My surgeon, sensing my stress, likened it to ironing a shirt, "sometimes Paul (s.o.b. thinks we're on a first name basis), the flap is like a wrinkled shirt and that shirt has to be ironed a couple times to get of the wrinkles."
Hmmm. Let's do a little experiment. Let's begin with a wrinkled shirt.

Oh no! So many wrinkles! Whatever shall we do? Let's begin to iron...

Let's take our time, really try to rid ourselves of those pesky wrinkles...

It worked! I took my time and smoothed the shirt.

Wait! I better tally the number of times I ironed the shirt. According to my calculations, it took one session. Huh...interesting...I guess in skilled hands a wrinkled shirt only needs to be seen once.
3 comments:
I'm sorry about your eye :( but thank you for the visual aids
That's TERRIBLE... but you come up with the most creative little things... you can relate anything to anything... I swear.
Glad you liked it. I killed two birds with one stone; a shirt ironed, and visual aids for a post.
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