Looking like shit

I BBMed Señorita just now:

  "I put more poo on my face.  This stuff is amazing."

The things that only your best friend would understand...
...

The (Second) Poo Story


So, my gloriously convenient eczema decided to break out under my lip recently.  I wasn't too worried because the last time that it did that, I found this cream that totally killed it in 2 days flat.  This time, it was oozy and cracked and gross for like, a week now.  Anytime it FELT like it was starting to get better, it would just go ahead and get gross a couple hours later.

Ugh.

So Señorita came over today on a totally unrelated matter, but I whined my heart out to her about it anyway--that my damn face would just not dry up and heal.  Being an RN, she stared at me and thought about it.

  "Do you want to try some of that iodosorb paste we put on Malcolm's foot?"

Sure, if she thought it'd help.  A while ago, Malcolm had a wound on his foot that was also having a hard time scabbing over and healing because it was just so wet.  Señorita had brought this stuff for him that I'd known he'd been putting on his foot that healed him up good and quick, but I'd never really paid much attention.

So, sterile gauze, saline, and paste in hand, she tended to me.  She checked me out and cleaned me up first, and then out came the paste.

  "That's what the paste looks like?"

Squeezed out of the tube onto a little square of gauze, the paste looked like a little squirt of baby poo.

Yup.  That's what it looked like and that's what she smeared on my face.  Okay, so I had shitty paste smeared on my face.  How long should this stay on for?

  "Let's try it for at least 20 minutes."

As so we carried on.  We chatted, had our coffee/shake, shared stories, searched the web, touched up the poo when it started to slide out of place from under my lip, checked out dating profiles, played with the cat.

Before she left for the day and I went to get ready to leave the house for a meeting, Señorita was kind enough to clean me up.

  "Yeah, I don't think this is going to stain too badly..."

STAIN?!  I wish I'd had a picture of the moment she realized that she forgot this might stain my skin a bit.  Talk about an "oh shit..." moment, while she was dabbing at my face with saline.  Regardless, it didn't stain my skin (too badly) and according to her professional opinion, it had helped.  For me, the result wasn't apparent until 3 hours later when I checked myself out again at home.

It worked.

My skin was still a little cracked and dry, but it definitely wasn't gaping or oozing.  With a solid 2 hours before I had to be anywhere else, I decided to go for a second round of treatment...hence, the BBM message.

Hey, if you can't smear shit on your face at home in front of your best friend, when can you?