Five days ago, I was bitten by a dog on the face. Never in my wildest dreams did I ever imagine something like this happening. One minute I’m chatting with a friend and the next minute I’m bleeding all over the place.
A Dog Bite…
13 Jul ’10 By
I feel sad… unmotivated. I wonder if it will scar. I look in the mirror as I change the bandages and my stomach churns. That isn’t my face. My smooth, pale, unmarked skin has been replaced by a long line of stiches under my eye, a nasty drainage tube, and a hole in my cheek that I have to stuff with sterile packing each night.
I cry. I’m conflicted over my feelings. Is it ok to be vain in this situation? I’m not typically that worried about how I look. I’m fairly laid back… relaxed… but suddenly I’m thrust into this sense of panic. I silently whisper that when the stitches vanish… the wounds will be nothing more than distant memory.