Saturday, February 21, 2015
Run/ Walk/ Bike/ Elliptical (Today: 0.00 miles; Running Total: 177.37 miles)
Day 225 of *Another* 100 Days of Good Karma.
The hole in my side is still leaking and I’ve been trying to find a good solution that doesn’t involve getting the fluid all over my clothes. Band aids are fine in the short term, but if I leave them on too long then my skin turns into a nightmare of itching and broken out redness. Also, peeling a band aid off of red irritated skin really hurts.
I’ve tried using paper tape and cloth tape to hold gauze pads in place. These work fine and they irritate my skin less, but it’s difficult to change the dressing on my own. Also when the gauze pads are saturated they leak all over my clothes.
Thus enters an incredible life hack. As the owner of a vagina, I’m embarrassed I didn’t think of this myself. After all, the concept is the same.
Justin went grocery shopping and came home with a box of men’s underwear shields. I had no idea such a product existed. I found the box when I was unpacking the groceries. I held the box up for Justin, trying to be gentle with my question.
“Is there something you need to tell me?”
“Oh. Those are for your side.”
“Huh?” I had the distinct feeling I’d missed a leap in logic.
“A lady I work with said her husband had surgery and had the drainage tubes. They had the same problem you’re having where it leaks everywhere and all the problems with the bandages. So they got these.”
A picture began to coalesce in my head.
“She said they stuck it on the inside of his clothes. They’re meant to hold a lot of liquid, and there were no bandages stuck to his skin. She said the men’s ones worked better. I think because of the shape.”
I looked at the picture of the pads on the cover of the box. I could see that there was a wide end tapering off to a thin end.
“Oh,” I said, a picture solidifying in my head. “That’s. . . That’s brilliant.”
“I know,” Justin said, shrugging. “Who loves you?”
I thought of Justin volunteering to take two cabin-fevered kids to a Saturday-busy grocery store so they could get out of the house and so I could take a nap.
I thought of him standing in the pharmacy aisle assessing the different absorption products, not noticing the curious glances of people walking past him.
I imagined what the grocery store clerk looked like. In my mind I saw a nineteen year old kid fresh out of high school and growing his first sparse goatee. Someone with little or no life experience that scanned the box and dropped it into a plastic bag, all the while vowing to himself that he’d never get old.
All these things flashed through my mind in a quick second, and I answered Justin’s question honestly. “You do. You love me.”
He nodded. “Mm-hmm.” He tipped his cheek towards me and I happily kissed it. Then he snagged a beer out of the refrigerator and headed toward the computer room.
I am happy to report that Justin’s friend deserves a lifetime achievement award for coming up with this post-surgery life hack. My skin thanked me for getting rid of the band aids and the tape. And, bonus, I woke up with a mostly dry shirt this morning.
The only flaw in this hack was user error.
When I went to bed last night I just stuck the pad to the inside of my shirt without thinking how the hole would drain. When I woke up I noticed the back of my shirt was wet. Upon closer inspection I realized my problem.
I’d put the thin end of the pad to the back and the wide end to the front. Also, I positioned the pad so that the hole in my side was in the middle of the pad.
I could see that if I’d positioned the pad so the hole in my side was in line with the thin end and let the wide end of the pad extend toward my back, then I could sleep on my back and let gravity do its job by pulling the fluid down to the wide end of the pad.
I woke up with a wet shirt not because the pad didn’t work, but because because I didn’t utilize the entire pad.
Today’s silver lining: Yet again, my husband, for loving me enough to brave potential public humiliation in an effort to make me happy.
What’s your silver lining today? I love comments!
Don’t want to leave a comment, but have something you want to share? Send me an email at gettingthewordswrong(at)gmail(dot)com.