I never imagined myself as the family type, even though I thought about it constantly.
However this was never the case my entire life. Once upon a time, I did want a family, the picket fence and the “works” as a few of my friends say. But then suddenly that all changed after a tragic incident, an incident I constantly keep locked to myself. The pain is still as sharp as it was back then. The wound refuses to heal, but of course this is more than just an abrasion.
In medicine you learn the stages of skin healing. First you have hemostasis; the process where the body rushes to stop the bleeding. Because as much as we like to think we are strong and not easily destructible, we are. We tend to underestimate how severe bleeding an be, since our bodies have evolved to the point where it does not matter much.
In this first stage, thrombin is formed to create this barrier essential for healing and impeding haemorrhaging out. Because even though this rarely if ever happens, it can. This mesh thrombin forms continues to form until it is stable enough to cease bleeding and form a natural bandage for the cut. Without it, the chances for infection increase.
In the second stage, inflammation occurs to destroy and clean itself from debris and bacteria. This is its way of preparation for new tissue that is to come (hopefully). During this time neutrophils occupy the battlefield, flushing out debris. For the first 2 days, they will occupy the entire field until about the third day when they call for backup from their comrades, the macrophages. These new troops continue eliminating the debris, but unlike their predecessors, they also drop special proteins to attract the immune system to aid in tissue repair. For the next 6 days or so, this inflammation stage will remain static.
The third stage brings in the red cross. This is known as the proliferative phase. What makes this stage so unique, is that it involves 3 phases to achieve its goal. This is the raw definition of support. The first phase drops connective tissue to help pull in the wound later. Which leads into phase 2, which is literally the wound being sewed or pulled into the centre. And finally, the expression of “the show is not over until the fat lady sings” has never felt so a accurate until now. The phase tests your body’s patience, which can last up to a month.
The final stage comes in, the maturation phase. Here the damaged tissues gain strength and flexibility, though it only regains about 80% of its pre-wounded condition, the recovery of it remain impressive. This phase can last up to two years, depending greatly on the wound and other factors, such as: age, nutrition, moisture, infections, and even body type. No wound is ever the same, they remind me of motoneurons (which deserve a talk all on their own).
As you can see, a lot goes into healing a wound. And just like a wound healing, an emotional wound is also similar. A loss of a child, a parent, loved one, etc.. And today, I realise that no matter how much time has gone by, and whatever I transfer the pain to, I am still not healed. And now, not knowing whether I will see my little Davante or not, hits me like a lightening bolt.