Yesterday I (accidently) cooked my breast-pump which was sitting in an empty pot on the stove, tried to save the pot and dripped molten plastic on the back of my hand. It is the 1st time I have ever run a burn under cold water for the whole 10 minutes without coersion! I pulled off the bigger chunks of plastic myself as they cooled, but the nurse had to scrape the rest off with forceps. I now have this really cool dressing which is fortuitously washable as I probably wash my hands about 50 times a day (no, I'm not obsessive compulsive just a lab-worker and a parent). She also put a crepe bandage on to remind me not to use it, but it was too annoying, so I took it off this morning:-) It's surprisingly unsore, so I'm hoping the nasty black spready bit I can see through the dressing is something to do with the cream and not me (maybe it changes from black to white on contact with flesh, that would be pretty amazing). Have to soak the dressing off with olive oil tomorrow and go see the doctor to get it checked and get a new one. I expect that bit will hurt...
Last night at 10:30 when James came to say his leg was hurting and it wasn't getting better ( a regular occurence) I offered him a sticking plaster and he said "No Mummy, that won't help... I need one like that". Desperate for sleep, and concerned for future nights, I lied and said I didn't think we had one handy. I am a bad Mummy who tells the truth about Santa but not crepe bandages!
1 comment:
Oww!
Seems like a sensible answer at the time.
Makes me wonder if he could be persuaded to apply his own placebo short crepe bandage in the middle of the night and therefore not wake you.
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