My First (Aid) Love Affair

You know the dad in My Big Fat Greek Wedding with the Windex? Every ailment that affects the members of his broad family clan are treated to a squirt of the glass cleaner. If you've seen the movie you know that the dad's obsession comes to a justifiable climax when his daughter's groom concedes the odd remedy's success, much to the chagrin and exasperation of his daughter and her feelings surrounding her dad's incessant Windex-spraying habit.

However, I'll shamelessly admit her dad had nothing on me and my relationship with Neosporin. Nothing. I carry a big 1 ounce “Maximum Strength Neosporin + Pain Releif” tube around with me in my purse, right along side my lip gloss, ATM card, and of course given my previous blog post, my CalTrain pass.

Granted my compulsion with the Bacitracin-laced slippery goo is bolstered by the undeniable fact that I am a verifiable klutz. If something’s around that I can hurt myself with (use of vivid imagination allowed here), it’s usually going to a happen.

Take this morning, for example. While putting air into my mountain bike’s rear tire, a wrestling match between my bike pump and I ensued, resulting in my right index finger being propelled directly in to my mountain bike's rear chain ring (the bike pump won, needless to say). Frustrated, in pain, and bleeding fairly profusely from the newly acquired gash in my digit, I proceeded to tear apart the contents of my messenger bag to find my keys, get into my house and obtain a band-aid to stop the red tide streaming down my hand. In the midst of my very childlike temper-tantrum, throwing clothes from my bag right and left and kicking my feet in fury, I stopped, took a breath and smiled. The incident called for the use of Neosporin.

Perverse, huh?

Regardless of my own tendencies towards cuts, scrapes and surface scratches (not to mention chain rings in fingers), I derive extreme pleasure from treating others with my favorite remedy. Look, here I am, a Neosporin-treatment process in progress:

(Um, blogger is broken right now, but here's the link.)

I’ve also discovered new uses for the ointment:

A recent trip to Italy required the purchase of new bike clothes for a planned cycling tour around Tuscany. The airline, Alitalia, lost our two bike boxes, which was inclusive of our bikes, clothes and gear—including our trusty tube of anti-abrasion Chamois Butt’r. But guess what safely made the trans-Atlantic trip, to be used fairly successfully as a barrier between my nether regions and the newly acquired cycling shorts? Yep, you guessed it.

Torn cuticles are also regularly relieved with the Neo-treatment and in dire situations, I have resorted to using it as a chapstick substitute.

Co-workers, friends and parents alike are all subjected to my infatuation.

Rest assured, if you say “ouch!”, I’ll I jump up and yell, “I’ll get the Neosporin!”