Burns and peas

(First aid kit and contents: Carlisle. England)

Last Saturday, I telephoned my mother to ask her advice about a nasty burn I had managed to give myself. Whilst ironing – an activity I try to avoid at all costs – I had leaned over the ironing board and caught my arm’s lily-white underside on the metal plate of the iron. I immediately sprang back from the heat and panicked. I have never burned myself so badly before, and as if to exacerbate the error, I placed a bag of frozen peas directly onto my skin (without a layer of fabric) and in doing so, my skin blistered into a glossy, livid triangle of red skin. It was after an hour or so that I made the call to mother and realised my glaring rushed mistake of peas-on-skin probably contributed directly to the blistering damage. She told me to dress it, but that required a trip to a nearby chemist to stock up on dressings and bandage; I keep a few plasters constantly in my bag and at home in case of little medical emergencies, but since I rarely need anything more, I have never stocked it.

Now that I am recovering nicely and my arm is no longer sticking to every sleeve I put on it. It is still very noticeable and many people have audibly sucked air through their clenched teeth in a show of shock. Once I tell them how I did it, everyone has said, “oh yeah, you can see the shape of the iron.” Embarrassing. Based on these events, my mum decided that I perhaps needed to consider a medical box or First Aid kit for the flat. It just so happened that she had a spare one (taken from the old car) in the house that she could offer me. That’s why the kit reads ‘Elastoplast First Aid Kit for the Motorist’. Move one image down and you can see the untouched contents of said box; lint, bandages, tweezers, scissors, Savlon cream, antiseptic wipes and dressings. Also contained within was the rather smart box in the tip right hand image; Airstrip plasters. Seeing the age of the other contents, I assumed no plasters would remain. My mum said, “of course there are plasters! I’m sure there are several still left.” Upon opening the box, I discovered that I was mostly correct, and that there were merely two tiny spot plasters and a miniature band-aid, still in original packaging (bottom left image). I think I’ll go for a full elastoplast box replacement when I return to Glasgow, if only to save any resident of my flat the anguish of finding plasters so tiny that they are ineffective on anything larger than a pinprick.

— Today Rosie is travelling back to Glasgow by train and going to an Analogue Social meeting in Glasgow, Scotland –

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