I received my very first stitch tonight. It's on my upper lip, and I'm oh so proud. I haven't actually seen it yet, since it's under the bandage, but I'm sure it's cool. The doctor would have put another stitch or two in the top of my nose, but there was no skin left to stitch together. It's just a hole -- not too deep, though, he says.
I couldn't have asked for better company in the doctor's office. After I convinced him I hadn't gotten into a fight with some Albanian, Paolo drove me to a nearby skin clinic. Initially he was initially under suspicion for girlfriend beating, but after the dermatologist and the nurse spent 15 minutes picking asphalt out of my face with tweezers and a scalpel he was cleared of fault and was smiled at as he let his hand be subjected to bone-rubbing squeezes and, finger-nail punctures. After he drove me home, Paolo concocted a wonderfully smelling pasta sauce from scratch -- hey, I guess it pays to have picked an Italian!
All this and I only cried once.
