It was obvious I had to have stitches – so Mom gave me a towel and had me apply pressure to the wound — then quickly ushered my sobbing being down to the car.
“Mom, I’m not going to have to have stitches, am I?”
The closer we got to Dr. Slayback’s office, the more freaked out I became.
“Jennifer, you may have to and it’s going to be okay,” she tried to reassure me.
My 7-year-old brain was swimming in fear. I had never had stitches and was sure I wasn’t going to make it through the procedure.
“Mom, maybe I’m not going to have to have them. Maybe he can just tape it together.”
I imagined with horror that he’d stick a needle into my skin and was certain it would be the death of me.