I feel like debriding

Today I want to talk about debriding or debridement not to gross you out or anything. It’s kind of the closest metaphor I could think of. Yeah, yeah. I’m not particularly good with metaphors.

So anyway, moving forward. For example, when you’re bedridden you develop this thing called bedsores which is really inevitable. When Mom was still in her bed, one of the things we want to avoid was to develop large bedsores because that would really be difficult to maintain. But eventually it did so a doctor had to treat the wound. If you did not click on the link up there, here’s a short explanation. 

When you have not treated a wound for a long time the tissue becomes dead and it will not replace itself when you’re not treating it. It’s like this you can’t build Rome in one day especially when their workers are out on a hedonistic spree. Tissues don’t repair itself if they’re cells are well…dead.

Debriding the wound will allow it to grow new tissue cells thus it would aid the would to heal. Well,ideally it would. Plus, you need to constantly keep the would dry otherwise, it will be the same gross piece of red flesh.

Yeah, yeah, So by now you’re probably gagging and making a mess of yourself. Point is we all have our wounds literally or otherwise and in order for us to heal we need to debrid. 

Get rid of the dead tissues, scrape those rotting flesh out. It will hurt and it might leave scars but it’s a necessary pain we need to go through. But if we’re afraid to see a doctor or to treat the would it would just get worse and sooner or later we’ll face it’s consequences. 

Yep, I need to go home and heal myself because the metro is driving me insane. By debriding, I mean going home and feeling that same anxiety when you go to a doctor to cut yourself open and stitch you back up. It’s probably gonna be a cycle of good vs bad anxiety because you feel right back at home but somehow you know that deep inside there’s something missing. Some tissues are just irrepairabe.