One week
after the plane crash, on the 17th of December, I decided to remove the weave
in my hair and wash it.
This was a major move on my part because it
indicated that I was relaxed enough to actually look at myself in the mirror
and decide to take better care of myself. Of course, this did not run to make
up or any sort of primping. It just did not seem important to do any more than
basic hygiene and then rush off to the hospital. But my hair was a mess, and I
was beginning to look like a crazy person so I decided to fix that and felt so
much better.
In order to speak to any of the doctors, I had to
get to the hospital early and this time I wanted to catch up with the plastic
surgeon that was handling Kechi's surgeries so far.
He was a young South African named Dr. Nel, and he
took the time to explain to me what exactly they were doing. So far, they had
done the debridement on her two arms. They were moving slowly so as not to
cause her undue stress and the surgeries would be done every forty eight hours.
The next surgery was slated for the following day,
Sunday, on one leg, and the next one on the following Tuesday. He also said
they would check on the first arm and see if it was ready for grafting and if
so, they would begin grafting on Tuesday. They would not be able to graft until
they were sure they removed all of the dead and infected skin unless the graft
would “fail”. This meant that the skin used to graft onto the wound would
become infected and will not be integrated into the site.
I now had another prayer point, ‘Lord, please let
the graft ‘take’!
To Be Continued...
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