Too Much Information?

I’m afraid that with my last blog post I was a little too graphic for some of my more gentle readers. Sorry about that.

Here’s my quandary. I want so much to be honest on this blog, but I don’t want to give too much information.

For example, I have a friend who recently went through a divorce. We were good friends with both her and her husband and it was difficult to watch. But I loved that she was genuine in her blog posts. She did not sugar-coat her pain, divulging her inner most feelings. Her posts were so true that I often found myself weeping after reading them. (It also doesn't hurt that she has supernatural writing skills.)

She didn’t give the gory details and I still have lots of love for her now ex-husband. But she did share her pain and her triumphs, too.

In contrast, I read some blogs and it doesn’t seem real. The family vacation. The new dresses for Easter. The perfect report card. I don't believe it. No one’s life is so cozy and perfect. I want to know what is really going on.

Everyone faces challenges and I think a bit of real-life grit never hurt anyone. The stories we remember are about challenges and how people face them. The real stuff of life is what touches me and spurs me on to better things. It's how we as humans connect to others. So, when I read a blog that doesn't really share much, I don't feel edified or enlightened. It’s just an update.

I guess that’s all well and good if that’s the goal. But I want something a little more. But how much do I share? Is it o.k. to post pictures of Sam with a messy house in the background? Do you really want to know about my self doubts and inner turmoil? I doubt you really want to know all the skeletons in my closet.

So, what's the balance? What do you think?

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Usta!

Many of you who have watched the Veggie Tales, know that Usta means "lips" in Polish. Well, today Sam got stitches in his usta.

Matt and I were sleeping in while Sam was playing his new Nintendo DS. All of the sudden there was a thump and then a few seconds later, a groan/cry. We ran out to find Sam on the couch with his lip bleeding profusely. He said he was playing DS and then stood up. Then he described the perfect faint. There was a little puddle of blood on the floor.

Luckily (unluckily?) I had cut the tip off my finger over a year ago and a friend of ours took us to a new, clean hospital. They did a great job with my finger so we went there.

Or tried to, anyway. We couldn't remember exactly where it was, but we knew the general area. Our cab driver took us to one hospital but when we walked in it was unfamiliar. Worse, it was dark and dingy and smelled like urine. We left.

We caught another cab and drove around until we found the place. Hallelujah. We were familiar with the process of getting registered and we headed up to see the doctor. As it turns out, the office and equipment were new and, most importantly, the doctor was professional, skilled, and even spoke a little English. She took a long time checking the wound and finally decided that stitches were in order.

This is her checking the wound.

Sam was a pretty brave kid. During the exam and even during the anesthetic shot.

This is his big lip after the anesthetic.

Matt actually took video of the stitches, but I don't really want to post it. Ick. I figure the before and after shots are good, or gross, enough.

This is after the stitches.

And here's a little smile.

I suppose most boys have stitches every once in a while. Nothing to be concerned about. I did learn a few things:

1. Matt will feel faint when an emergency first happens.
2. I will feel faint after the worst part is over.
3. Sam is surprisingly good at medical Chinese and is great at translating for his parents who feel faint, even when his lip has a huge gash in it.
4. Calling a cab is a pain in an emergency.
5. I will be glad to be back in a country where I speak the same language as the doctors I visit.
6. We'll survive.

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