You Can’t See My Bandaid.

When I took apart a giant frame and left the glass against the shelf because I didn’t have time to put it back together, I just knew it wasn’t going to end well. (Why, when we have that kind of thought, do we do nothing about it?!) Two days later, I’m grabbing something from the closet next to that shelf, and WHAM. I ran my arm right alongside the corner of that frame and got a nice, big cut.

I’m pretty darn squeamish (that’s why I chose to stay as far away from the medical field as possible) but this time I somehow remained relatively calm. I think it’s because this happened merely months ago with a nice slice to my finger. That time, oh yes, I panicked. Big time. When Keith tried to take off my makeshift paper towel bandage, I tried to kick him away. He is a good nurse so he persisted and my finger is still in one piece. But that is neither here nor there.

So, back to this incident. This cut is right in the middle of my arm. It’s definitely not the prettiest thing, so I’ve been putting a bandaid on it not only to keep it protected but also to hide the gore. After a couple of days of the really large, flesh-colored bandages, I needed something new. I graduated to the regular-sized bandages, so that was a good step. But, with the locale of this cut, the regular color of bandaids were driving me insane. No matter the intention, these guys just aren’t blending in. They are completely obvious and no fun at all. I was ready to fix that.

I marched over to the Commissary to see what I could find in the way of non-regular colored bandaids. Did I want princesses? No. SpongeBob? Nope. I’m a little old for all that. Smiley-faces? Eh. Then I saw them: camouflage bandaids. Genius! Thank you, Curad, for the camo adhesive bandages.

my camouflage bandage

my camouflage bandage

I’m now rolling around base with a nice little camo bandage on my arm to hide my ugly little cut. Surely no one has even noticed this green and brown sticker smack dab in the middle of my right arm because it is camouflage. Phew.

I may be out of regs (regulation: it’s desert camo now, not woodlands as I am currently wearing), but I don’t care. And they probably can’t even see it anyway.


My Biggest Military Lesson

There are lots of things to learn about the military community. What is PCS? Then what is PCA? What are orders? You have to have an ID to buy groceries at a Commissary?

This year, I (re)learned about the military what must be the biggest lesson for a spouse. Ever. Remember when I moaned and groaned about moving to Georgia? Well, that didn’t happen. We are staying right here at good ‘ole Camp Lejeune, North Carolina. In fact, we just moved from off-base to on-base. We got so lucky as to get a gorgeous house on the water. Really, really lucky.

So what’s the lesson? I’ll tell ya (and military wives, take note!): Never, ever, ever, react to anything (you think) the military is saying you are going to do, ever, until it’s actually happening. It’s just a waste of breath, tears, and time. Because in the military, nothing is final until it’s happening.

I thought I learned this when the first deployment date changed a thousand times before he actually left. I learned it again when I got upset about moving, only to find out that in the end, we weren’t leaving at all. I’m hoping that I remember this lesson next time, because in this life, there’s always change a’coming. And to be honest, this view ain’t so bad.

Emotional Lifecycle of Deployment

Several of my friends are sending their husbands off on deployments this month, which of course leads to much reflection for all of us. Each time one of us goes through this, I think we all go through it just a little too, even if it’s not our turn. (See a post from Mrs. Woods when my last deployment began. She explains it well, and nearly brings tears to my eyes as I read it one year later.)

Deployments bring with them so many emotional challenges, and we often talk about whether this feeling or that feeling is “normal.” Well, just a reminder to those of you embarking on this winding journey, it’s all normal no matter how crazy it may seem.

I created this infographic for a class last year about the emotional lifecycle of deployment for military spouses. Hopefully someone who is getting ready for, in, or completing a deployment might find it useful.

P.S.  Check out my friend’s new photography blog, Confessions of a Sisterwife, which she created as a way to use art to help get through deployment. Her photography is gorgeous.