On Sunday morning, I cut my left index finger, while using a very sharp knife to slice a loaf of fresh bread. Just a small cut, but it left a little flap of skin that kept bleeding.
Fortunately, we have a big box of plasters handy, in the kitchen drawer. Because we so rarely cut ourselves, they are quite old now, and as I applied some to the cut, I soon realised that the adhesive had degenerated. Julie managed to cover the cut using two plasters, then added an extra one to cover the edges that looked as if they might curl up.
Sure enough, as soon as I was in the bath later, the ‘Waterproof’ plasters slipped off immediately. With the small wound open again, two more were secured around it, before Ollie’s dog walk.
Preparing dinner later, I naturally washed my hands before touching the food. Off they came again. Two more applied before continuing.
I gave the plasters the benefit of the doubt. They were probably five years old or more. I would buy some new ones at the supermarket on Monday. When I looked at the selection available, I decided to pay the 40p more for ‘Waterproof fabric plasters’. By then, the cut had stopped bleeding, and the small flap was starting to close.
But when I opened the shed today, twisting the key reopened the cut. I had no worries about covering it. After all, I had a brand-new sealed box, purchased the day before. I applied one larger plaster to cover the wound and most of the top of my finger. Then before lunch, I washed my hands.
Off it slid.
The next time, I applied two medium-sized ones, to secure the edges. Then I had my bath, and they slid off immediately.
I am now on the sixth plaster since 9am this morning, and it is only 4:15pm.
What part of ‘waterproof’ do those manufacturers fail to understand, I wonder?