Oww Again

I was back at the clinic today, because the skin under my arm has turned into a red and weeping ooze that sticks to everything, including me, making crusts that I tear off whenever I move. Which made me realize, once again, that health care professionals are different from other folks.

"It looks great!" said the nurse and the doctor, as they scanned the four-inch-square area of sticky, shiny, redness. "You're keeping it really clean." The greenish gop on the pad I'd been wearing? Totally normal. The white, pimply dots? New skin cells trying to grow.

I am to keep it as moist as possible for the next week. This includes wearing a bra to bed to hold all the various layers of "product" in place. And I have chucks to lie on, so I don't totally wreck the sheet and mattress pad. It should be much improved by next week, when I am to go again.

I have faith, because the rest of me is, in fact, much improved. But it does hurt, and the ointment and pads don't really help all that much.

Which brings a somber thought. The radiation burns and the weariness I am dealing with are as less than nothing compared to what happened to the people of Hiroshima and Nagasaki who survived the initial blast. Many sides to that thought...