A Not So O+ Experience
So, for the past few years (and I don't really know how many) I've had this "dot" on my upper lip. I never noticed when it arrived, and I never paid much attention to it--except, of course, that it provided me some mystic connection to Cindy Crawford.
Cindy, if you're reading this, please join me for a Diet Pepsi.
Early this week. The "dot" began to hurt a little. Nothing serious, but it was letting me know it was there. I guess "sting" might be a better term than hurt. On Wednesday morning, my last swipe of the Good News razor was over the "dot". And then . . .
I began to bleed. This was nothing like simple shaving cut bleeding. No sir, this was a letting for the ages.
I was in a hotel near Knoxville. First, I reached for the Kleenexes. Tissue placed, pressure applied, peeked at it a minute later, repeated steps 1 and 2. This little waltz o' the reddening tissues went on for many minutes. Then, I ran out of Kleenex and graduated to wash cloths . . . hand towels . . . bath towels . . . bed linens . . .
It looked like a horror movie went off in there!
I finally got the bleeding to stop, but I was pretty dizzy. My next stop was K-mart for a large pack of Band-aids.
Next morning, following another fateful last swipe, I slapped a Band-aid over the gusher. One thousand one . . . one thousand two . . . one thousand--the bandage was soaked through!!
No wonder the Red Cross keeps calling me about donating, I've got enough for everyone (and it's O+)!
One friend suggested I pack Krazy Glue. "It's exactly what surgeons use," he explained. Yeah, if your surgeon happens to be the Unibomber. Maybe I also oughta learn how to rip out the matress springs and suture up a wound Rambo style. For now though it's a regimen of Band-aids and Neosporin. Wonder how much longer before I clot a little better? I hope this improves soon because the triple antibiotic ointment is really spicy and makes me hallucinate.