Seven days seems like a long time having not put fingers to keyboard here and I’ve missed it.
Indeed, it has just been one of those most irritating sort of weeks where there has always been something demanding my immediate attention – leaving me absolutely no provision for carrying out any essential maintenance tasks such as eyebrow sculpting, moisturising elbows or engaging in full body exfoliation (my plan is I don’t have to give up cream cakes if occasionally I can just ‘sand’ bits off my person). I have however become resigned to the fact that in times such as these you just have to let yourself go a little, so this week I’ve made do with a bit of lip balm and avoided unflattering lighting….
Plus moustaches are ‘hot’ this season according to my friend Hannah (pity she was talking about Tom Seleck at the time)…
The major disappointment of this week however, is that despite my apparent busyness I have relatively little to show for my hard graft apart from a Telecommunications Register, a half finished essay and a stunning Shepards Pie with sweet potato and baked beans (not to blow my own trumpet – in a hypothetical sense of course)….
In fact I was probably of most use at the Doctors yesterday morning when I took on the role of ‘Phlebotomist Guinea Pig’, allowing (clearly a student) nurse perform what was possibly her first ever blood test. In all fairness to the girl, she did pretty well achieving three of those little test tubes full of my red stuff (forever disappointed it doesn’t come out blue) although her technique did have a little to be desired…
“Right I’m going to put this needle in your arm”
“You will feel a sharp prick….”
<She inserts needle into my arm and starts drawing blood>
I have to admit to being a little confused as to whether this was a delayed reaction on her part or mine – but still my very smiley and enthusiastic nurse did give me the biggest lump of cotton wool you have ever seen to mop up her efforts, and secured it well with a healthy amount of surgical tape to boot. Indeed, my most impressive dressing survived 2 full blown washes AND a bath, and probably still had enough life in it to undergo some serious pressure hosing without peeling away at the edges. This morning however, I was painfully forced to remove most of my nurse’s proud creation with some cuticle scissors as my long sleeved blouse wouldn’t fit over the small woollen hillock protruding from my upper arm…
Unfortunately this was a task a little more easily said said than done, and I’ve had to leave some of the excess binding in certain places where the tape and my skin have formed a special relationship with each other – particularly about my elbow – so after a lot of yelping and a few tears, I have decided to let them part company on their own terms.
There is no point forcing the issue.
So all in all that has been my week which has seen me a little stressed, a little unkempt, and develop a whole new respect for medical students armed with anything adhesive…
I’m just glad that (given I was wearing my favourite jacket) I’m old enough my bright young nurse didn’t feel the need to give me an ‘I have been brave’ sticker.
Wonder how long it would have taken me to get that off….