The blog is a funny beast, often I am not sure whether it belongs to me or I belong to it. We’ve taken a lot of turns together in a short space of time, but I guess that’s a fair reflection of my life. It’s been a while since I reviewed the physical side of project Gav but this evening I have had the opportunity to reflect.
The trigger for this reflection was the almost hypnotic swirling of multiple clots of blood swirling in the blood infused bath water. I was watching this scene whilst carrying out the precarious dance between tissue paper and towels that is now a well practised routine. There is still a vivid foot long scar on my leg, graduating from pink to a dark scarlet. The scar is lighter than it was and hasn’t bled for some months so it’s improving from the disaster that it was for a long time.
I guess the natural order takes me from the donor site to the graft site, no change with the graft it is what it is having failed it can’t expand. The graft edge is becoming smoother, the ridge less pronounced as my skin overcomes the scar. The other side, where the graft didn’t reach is also filling in slowly but noticeably, I can no longer support a credit card in the groove. The odd thing is that the skin remains firmly tethered to muscle and so is looking more pinched and strained. The tendon tethering also remains resolute, I would suggest that the surface must be growing thicker but when I wipe the blood away I can clearly see the sparkling white of the tendon so its clearly not.
The bleeding of course, what started the review, its a nuisance and irritating but nothing by comparison to what the donor site was like. I’m glad that my blood pressure was checked because the propensity for leaks would lead me to believe that it was too high to keep contained otherwise. The scar on the left is firmly tethered, often irritating and joined by the clamp marks that insist on flaring up regularly. The last of the injury review but by no means the least is obviously the bones themselves.
Today started with 2 sets of 35 press-ups, the afternoon session raised the bar to 4 sets of 40, yes that’s 160 press-ups. My chest and arms are starting to resemble who I was before the accident. The wrists both ache more, doubtless protesting against the exercise but they need to learn. I get a lot more odd stabbing pains now as well but I’m guessing that this is because I am pushing limits of movement, again it’s just learning.
Ah before I forget the important part, my hair has now remembered it lives on my head and not in a brush. I listed this for prosperity, to measure where I am in my life and to record one more small bite of the story, my accident was my accident after all. Hey Ms Nature, told you to pick on somebody else.