Monday, March 15, 2010
As a kid, people seem to really enjoy sporting a Band-Aid. In fact, even in high school, I have lots of students inventing owies just to get one. I keep an assortment for that purpose: Scooby Doo, Hello Kitty, Batman, Spiderman, Care Bears, Breast Cancer Awareness (they're pink.) No one ever selects the plain ones. That box is as it was purchased, wrapped in cellophane and undisturbed.
I, however, am not a fan of the Band-Aid.(And even less of other brands like Curad that don't really stick at all and come off within the hour it was applied.) While not exactly a hairy monkey beast, I lean towards the hirsute. Having to take one off is much akin to a mini-waxing. I am forever trying to convince health workers that I really don't need a band aid after having my blood drawn, but they won't ever acquiesce to my request. Today, the blood work I had done was nothing at all. I barely felt the needle. The removal of the gauze and ridiculously Gorilla Glued heavy duty medical tape used to keep said gauze in place, however... I will be sporting the large red welts from its removal for days to come. It's like a Brazilian for the inner crook of my arm, but blessedly I know no one that is turned on by such things.