Temper Tantrum

Yesterday I behaved like a two-year-old having a melt-down. I had a temper tantrum. It was a doozy.

To tell the story I have to go back to last Monday evening when I banged my arm against a door handle, which tore an inch-long flap of skin. I applied a bandaid with some antibiotic ointment.

The next day the wound started bleeding again, so I went to my doctor’s office to have it dressed. The nurse washed it with saline solution and applied a large square of Tegaderm, which adhered to my skin, completely covering the wound.

Tegaderm is an interesting product; transparent, adhesive, waterproof, it essentially seals the wound, but allows air in. The nurse said the dressing would fall off in a week and that the wound would meantime heal. Fine.

Yesterday morning while I was cleaning the kitchen countertop, I brushed my arm against the metal mixer bowl handle, re-injuring the wound. Looking at my arm through the transparent Tegaderm I saw bright blood pooling under the dressing. What a set-back!

That’s when the temper tantrum started. I raged out of frustration, disappointment and helplessness. I shouted, I cried, I lay on the bed and pounded my feet on the mattress. I roared through the house, keening.

Luckily no one was around to witness this event. I was able to vent to my heart’s content without anyone trying to comfort me. When I finally ran out of steam, I felt much, much better and went outside to weed a flower bed.

Now I know how little Zander used to feel when he went into melt-down. This may have implications of second childhood, but I don’t care. Sometimes we are inconsolable and have to scream a while.

Copyright 2013 by Shirley Domer