“Oh, sure. Yep. Everything looks good in there.” I proclaimed to a packed room of family members – all of us staring unabashedly between the legs of my patient. “Had quite a tear….but it should be juuussst fiiiine.”
This was my announcement following a repair of a 2nd degree mid-line perineal laceration on a woman who had just delivered her first baby. There was blood and meconium and feces to deal with. I couldn’t see much of what I was repairing because there was so much tissue in the way. The place looked like a crime scene, not an OB delivery room.
This type of laceration is supposed to be easy to repair. OB’s scoff at the mid-lines. “Even an FP twerp like you could do it,” I’m sure they often think. But they still unnerve me. Look where I’m working! And without being able to see anything, I’m just never really sure things are perfect.
“Ok, just a little tear. Be fixed here in a minute or two.” I’ll say.
Or 40. I’ll think.
“This all came together nicely.” I purr reassuringly.
Did I really put all that back together? Good Lord what a mess. And unless Hubby over there has a man-unit of a 3-year old…I’d suggest reviewing your pre-nuptials.
Lacs heal really well. Historically, we just left them alone (we’ve had babies a lot longer than we’ve had surgeons). There’s lots of blood vessels and simply keeping the legs closed creates natural direct pressure on the wound. God proclaimed that childbearing would be painful, but not necessarily all of life afterward. When I’m in there, feeling like a one-armed nearsighted tailor with Parkinson’s, I just hope God will put her back together in spite of me.