You knew it would happen. First the wound opened and sprayed you with viscera, then the skin peeled back to raw flesh, and this next step was bound to happen one day. Yet even as the lump shifted beneath your wrist, and you knew it was worming its way free, maybe it wouldn’t? Maybe it would be fine? Maybe it would stay there. Please, let it stay there. You can’t deal with losing it now. Oh god, let it stay there. Not now. Please, not now. But it happened (of course it did!). And you know what? You’re okay. It wasn’t the end of the world.