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There’s something meditative about suturing. Positioning the first bite, puncturing the tattered skin and fascia, pronating your wrist to feed the needle through. So, whenever the opportunity has arisen in my Emergency Medicine rotation, I’ve taken it. My interrupted sutures have never been so aesthetically pleasing. But, there’s an ulterior motive behind my frenzy…

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If I was important enough to have a memoir in the future, it would probably be titled “Tattoos and Stethoscopes: Tales of an Awkward Brown Girl”. Much to the chagrin of my poor sweet Mother, I love tattoos. I have several, and I plan to get more. (Surprise, Mom! Plsdontreadthis). So, we can agree…