Revulsion

re·vul·sion (r-vlshn)
1. A sudden, strong change or reaction in feeling, especially a feeling of violent disgust or loathing.

I just had surgery a week ago. It was supposed to be easy, quick, and minor. I hoped it would be. I spent the last week with steri strips on a 3x4” area under my arm. Last night, it was time to take them all off. I was told to keep them on for a week, so I did. I had already reinforced the edges where they were loosening with paper tape and I was just hoping to have a semi-normal and healed incision when I took them off. Instead, there was a half inch length of the incision, in the otherwise healed and decent looking 2-3inch incision, where the steri strip tape hadn’t held the sides of the incision together. Instead of being healed, it was open and wet and red and tissuey and gross. Not infected or oozing, just revolting.

Just to add shock to revulsion, about half an inch below the bottom end of the incision, sticking out of otherwise normal skin, there was a plastic suture sticking out of my skin half an inch. No one told me it would be there. I found a pair of scissors and pulled it up the suture just a little bit so it would disappear under the skin after I cut it, and then cut it. I flushed the piece of suture down the toilet; I didn’t want it in my trash can. Then I tried to tape the open part of the incision closed with paper tape as well as I could.

I don’t think there is a way to describe how much physical horror has been involved in this process over the last year and a half. This incision is just the tip of the iceberg and I don’t care to try to list all of the many horrors of exams and chemo and surgeries and blood draws, so you can use your imagination.

I don’t think there is a way to describe how shocking some of the experiences I’ve had with my own body have been. I hear people talking about the beauty of the human body and what a miracle it is and I think about the experiences I’ve had. I know this horror is the result of the curse and it isn’t how we were designed by God. But it is still disgusting right now.

I don’t think there is a way to describe how much of a relief it is to know that I don’t have to deal with this body the way it is right now for too much longer.

I don’t think there is a way to describe how excited I’ll be when Jesus comes for me and makes my body new and whole and healthy again.