OUCH.

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At least I wasn't fearing what turned out to be nothing.  Just pulling the bandages hurt.  A lot.  Then showering, and washing the wounds?  Yes, very much that hurt.  Then I got back upstairs, and was looking at the instructions.  Debriding the main, old, wound... with gauze and saline.

I... really didn't want to do that.  The little boy in me said we didn't have to, if we didn't want to.  The man agreed with me, but remembered that the wound has been open going on, or over, a year.  So... we got busy.

Think of ripping a scab off a big deep wound.  Then cleaning it by scrubbing.  Then, using a bit of alcohol, and lighting it on fire.  Right.  That's right in the range... even now, an hour later, bandaged, under compression.

The other wounds weren't as bad, but aren't much better.  I did learn, with the wound on my arm, to add sterile gauze padding.  The wounds are right where my wrist naturally catches things, so was bruising on the wound, every few minutes it seemed.  I can't change a lifetime of habit, of using that wrist to catch... anything that doesn't need fine digit control.  A door, a sliding shelf, an item which needs just a bit of a push to put into trim... habit.

I did dry off the feet, and checked to make sure the toenails didn't have all sorts of snags.  That makes putting compression socks on between difficult to painful... if one catches and gets pulled out of place.  All good.  And, when dry, after bandaging, I added compression.  Nice... and painful.  Every step of the process hurt in a new and... wonderful way... if you are a masochist.  Did I mention?  I'm not a masochist, or sadist.  So... none of this was of any pleasure.

The ankle was swollen, from not being in compression a few days.  The wrist is twisted.  A lessor twist, so I'm just noticing?  The ribs didn't get cracked or broken, but it's clear they were bruised.  Now the littler things are showing up.  Wrist on back to the elbow, all seem off.

Yes, I texted, and canceled, that last invite.  I held off until I realized my assessment was right.  Next weekend?  I can hope.  I'll be getting a rebandaging early in the week, at the doctor office.  Then I'll reset myself Thursday, the Sunday after any events.  That... might work.  Now, some of the wounds need to be being rebandaged twice daily?  Ugh, but... okay.  I... think I can.  The lessor wounds.  Lessor?  Or just newer?  The latter, I think, mostly.

Yeah.  So, tonight, then every morning and night from now on, I'll... redo those.  I might forget, a time or two.  But I'll pretty much stay up on it.

The plan was, after the torture session, to go on to bed.  But it hurts far too much.  I couldn't sleep anymore than I could at a rock or country concert.  It's pain that is too loud.  I feel like a puppy, which got it's first major spanking, and then a first thunderstorm came over.  Double dipping in pain and terror.  Want to find a place to hide and sort things, but nowhere to go.  Whimpering in a corner.

All good.  At least I did get to the work, if late.  I can't do that daily, but two to three times a week?  Okay.  Don't like it.  But such is life.

Have a great Easter.  Stay warm and dry out there.  Looking blustery, wet, here.  Later.