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Unlikely Juxtaposition

There are two words in the English language that I would probably vote as the least unattractive words to string together. They are 'wound' and 'vacuum'. Even having them in the same sentence seems to give goosebumps of implied pain or gruesome circumstance.

And, yet, this is what the doctors have come up with, and they call it a Wound Vacuum. And I would be happier to find out that this Vacuum is an attempt to recreate Galileo's gravity experiment with wounds, showing that they fall from buildings at the same rate; however, this was not the case. Instead, the doctor explained, Kristi's C-section incision wasn't healing quite properly, and they wanted to place a vacuum on it to suck it shut.

Warning: Some blood and gore coming up...

See, most wounds heal from the inside out and close off naturally; however, in Kristi's case, some of the wound was healing faster on top, causing potential air pockets at the skin on top and the skin beneath met up. The air that was trapped inside would cause a very painful infection, yada yada yada, and so the problem needed to be addressed.

Enter the vacuum.

In order to actually place the vacuum on the body, the incision needed to be reopened. It was only about 3 inches wide, but it was nearly a half an inch deep, and it went down in tunnels on either side for about another half inch. And, actually, since it was Friday, they wouldn't have the vacuum until Monday.

Enter the husband.

So, the doctor explained that, since the wound was now open, I, the husband, would need to put fresh gauze into the, roughly 4 inches by 1/2 inch by 1/2 inch cavern under my wife's abdomen with nothing more than sterile water and a q-tip.

This went on until Monday, when they showed us how to use the wound vacuum, and they placed it on her. (One day, I will go into the detail there, but it takes a long time to explain).

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