This morning a doctor came to change the bandage on Namine’s chest. As you might imagine, she was not thrilled. But when it was done, she was happy it was gone.

Tegaderm is pretty sticky stuff (it needs to be), so it took a bit of doing to get it off her chest. She wasn’t happy about it, but she held my hand while the doctor worked on the bandage. Jessica kept her distance, and that’s probably a good thing. The incision, as I mentioned yesterday, is not held together as tightly as it was the first time around. And in the spaces between the sutures were tucked a couple of betadine wicks.

These wicks, we had been informed yesterday, were not permanent. They were only there until the first dressing change, which meant they had to go. Namine didn’t know what the doctor was about to do, but I did. I didn’t envy her for what was about to happen.

The doctor grabbed the first of the wicks with a small tweezers and pulled. The wick was only lightly tucked into the incision, but it was still in pretty deep. It might a small squelching sound as it came out. Namine’s eyes went wide, and my finger bones clacked together as her grip tightened.

“Only one more,” the doctor said, and Namine wanted nothing to do with that. She looked down at her chest and shook her head.

I leaned in. “Almost done, sweetie. One more and then we can put a new bandage on your chest.”

She looked at me with an are you freaking serious kind of look. “Okay, Daddy.”

The doctor grabbed the other wick with the tweezers. Squelch and out it came.

“All done!” Namine exclaimed.

The doctor initially covered the incision with gauze and secured it with our favorite adhesive, paper tape. But later this morning Namine’s surgeon came by and said he wanted it covered with tegaderm.

Despite all she’s been through, Namine remains quite cheerful. When I left the hospital after lunch, she was just getting started with the hospital-provided OT, ready and willing to work. She’s just started to get her appetite back a little, and by late today, perhaps tomorrow, we should get out of the ICU. (That’s not to say we’re leaving the hospital; Namine has at least a week’s recovery before they’ll let her go.)

Husband. Daddy. Programmer. Artist. I'm not an expert, I just play one in real life.