Tonight, I was washing the tetanus colander and I cut the shit out of my finger. It’s a tiny cut, but it bled and bled and bled, right on my cuticle. Kind of deep. It didn’t really look like a dangerous colander when I got it, but it is terrible on top of being not very good at the thing it’s designed to do. I’m going to give to Goodwill or my worst enemy, I haven’t decided yet.
Anyways, I finished washing the dishes and went into the bathroom to wash the cut out (I already have a jenky infected finger on the other hand–don’t need another), because of cooties. I found 1 (one) packet of neosporin in my medicine cabinet and then labored over whether I *really* needed it because it’s the only one left for about 5 minutes while I washed my cut. Um…I’m an ER nurse. I can get another packet at work. Tomorrow.
Then, I went through my entire bathroom, all of my bags, my sock drawer, the toolbox, some shelves, a box full of paperwork that I’ve needed to go through since last year, with my still-bleeding finger up in the air wrapped in toilet paper (I don’t have any gauze, either) and couldn’t find ONE bandaid. Not one. I was tempted to go out to the car but it’s cold out (for these parts) and I don’t think there’s one in there either. I WORK IN THE ER. NOT ONE BANDAID IN THE HOUSE. Ace wraps, ice packs, weird splints, slings, pumice stones, mini hot water bottles(s), nicotine replacement of all varieties…one packet of neosporin and no bandaids.
If the apocolypse really happens, I’m screwed.