Mia's stitches came out today - I think it was as difficult for her as having them put in. The scab had formed over one of the three, so it was not quick. The techs, doctors and nurses - I lost track of them all - maybe six or seven different ones in all, four of them holding her down at any give time - were so afraid she was going to jerk her head to the side and catch the scissors in her eye. So they ended up wrapping her papoose style in a green sheet. She managed to kick so hard her shoes went flying. They released her after a bit for a break and to try some anesthetic cream (it didn't work) while I called Daddy to come over from his base in the north - it was nearly lunch time anyway. Then, before he could get there, they wrapped her again (this time cleverly tucking her arm in the fold of the sheet then wrapping the excess around) and all she could do was yell for Daddy. He came in as they finished, just in time to scoop her up and calm her down. You just can't reason with a terrified three year old. Although given that they all tried talking to her into being still, they may have thought it was possible. She wouldn't have any of it. I think the memory of the anesthetic needle from Wednesday night was still so fresh in her mind.
She is not out of the woods yet, as they put a plastic bandaid over the remaining scab and managed to catch her hair in the adhesive. She won't let any of us near it, you can bet I am not going to even try. She put up a terrible fight this morning, and is exhausted, lying on the the couch watching movies.