FYI (before the missive commences)...
bul·wark (b
l
w
rk, -wôrk
, b
l-) n.
1. A wall or embankment raised as a defensive fortification; a rampart.
2. Something serving as a defense or safeguard: "We have seen the necessity of the Union, as our bulwark against foreign danger" (James Madison).
3. A breakwater.
4. The part of a ship's side that is above the upper deck. Often used in the plural.
tr.v. bul·warked, bul·wark·ing, bul·warks
Well....Almost so much time has elapsed that I really do not know where to begin. Perhaps I shall start with university itself. I have decided that I want to be an academic. I remember in my first year of university, mocking one of my lecturers who specialises in sex in colonial algeria. I know, right?! So, in mocking him for his absurd choice, I did not expect in a million years that I would want to be like that- devoting hours of my life to researching things that only I care about. How self-indulgent! Yet, it would seem that that is what I want to do. I want to do my doctorate and I want it to be on military wives. Ahhhh, the dream!
5 days ago, something dreadful happened. Something appeared on my face. I know what you're thinking "pampered little brat can't handle a measly spot! She wouldn't know bad skin if it bit her in the armpit" (which, incidentally, sounds ridiculously uncomfortable and quite risky. I wouldn't bite someone in the armpit if you paid me)! But, despite the fact that I have been lucky enough to not have bad skin, I do know when my face isn't quite right. Let me tell you, what was happening to my face was not right. Not in any culture was this right. At first I thought it was a coldsore so, I made sure I always had clean hands so I didn't give it to myself again and I treated it with cream. By day two, it got bigger. By day 3 it was bigger still and number 2 was joining in the fun. By day 3.5 1 and 2 had joined forces to become a mahoosive one that almost took over my entire face. I referred to it as my second face. By day 3.75 there was a 3rd growing. Now, I am now coldsore expert but I knew something was up. Yesterday morning, I resolved to go into boots and get coldsore patches to cover the monstrosities with. As I approched the desk, I asked to see the pharmacist. She came out and asked what she could do to help. "Well," said I, "My face...it's falling apart. I feel like a leper." She chuckled (who wouldn't, let's be honest) and had a good look. I told her about the coldsore epidemic (no...PANdemic) that had swept my face and she said "I don't think it's a coldsore...it looks more like impetigo." NOOOO!!! Not a highly contagious Staphylococcus aureus infection that could sweep my entire body leaving me looking scabby and gross?! Not that!! PLEASE take it back and tell me I have a coldsore epidemic! I told her about my engagement pictures coming up and she almost wept with sympathy (or maybe it was a laugh, shortly turned into a 'bless you'...couldn't quite tell). Well, I went to the doctors that afternoon and it's a good thing too! You know when you have a skin complaint and people KNOW. They just KNOW. And YOU know that they KNOW and then it's awkward. You can tell they want to express sympathy for your rotting face and they can tell that you want them to go away so you don't have to face the embarassment but niether of you do anything. Also, you know when women wish men would talk to their faces rather than...their hair or something? I experienced that today. Not for the reasons you might think....!....but because people have started talking to my bottom lip. I just wish people would look me in the EYE! I KNOW I HAVE A ROTTING FACE. I KNOW MY BOTTOM LIP LOOKS LIKE IT'S BEEN RIPPED APART AND RE-ASSEMBLED. I KNOW I AM HIDEOUS AND I KNOW YOU ARE DESPERATELY HOPING THAT STARING AT MY LIP WON'T GIVE YOU MY LIP CONDITION. I UNDERSTAND THE PARANOIA. HELLO!!!! BUT PLEASE, FEIGN INTEREST, PRETEND YOU HADN'T NOTICE AND LOOK INTO MY EYES! You will soon see the real me! I will NOT be defined by my bottom lip anymore. I refuse. Done and done.
Anyway, so I went to the doctor and he said "What can I do for you today". I just looked at him with an expression that said "Really? You can clearly see that my entire face is falling off and you're asking me what you can do to help?" I didn't say that though. Obviously. I just told him the same sorry sob story I told to the chemist and he and his medical student took it from there. He knew straight away that it wasn't a coldsore. I mean...who are we kidding. What coldsore in the world looks like THAT? (none....in case you were wondering). The medical student took a bit of time to get there. In the end, he said, after about 4 minutes of pulling teeth "So....what infection do we know that makes skin look like that?" "erm..............a Staph infection??" "Yes, so.....given what it looks like and how it's spread.....what has she got??" "erm...................................................................Imp....." (This is where I chimed in) "IMPETIGO." "Yes. You have impetigo". Joyful. Hooray. 10 points to me. 2 big thumbs up. I got it right. Score. Whoop. Whoop. Whoop. (*all to be said in most unimpressed tones*) He seemed delighted- like caitlin looks when she's solved a new puzzle. Well, I remained unimpressed. "Ohh....I have my engagement pictures this weekend. I need to NOT look like this!" He vowed to make me better by the weekend and gave me a topical steroid cream. It seems to be working well....though I still look dreadful. I was contemplating today what a tender mercy it is to have nice, un-rotting lips. I am so looking forward to having a normal face again. I will never take it for granted!!
1. To fortify with a wall, embankment, or rampart.
2. To provide defense or protection for
That, Dude, is a Bulwark. Just saying.
Well....Almost so much time has elapsed that I really do not know where to begin. Perhaps I shall start with university itself. I have decided that I want to be an academic. I remember in my first year of university, mocking one of my lecturers who specialises in sex in colonial algeria. I know, right?! So, in mocking him for his absurd choice, I did not expect in a million years that I would want to be like that- devoting hours of my life to researching things that only I care about. How self-indulgent! Yet, it would seem that that is what I want to do. I want to do my doctorate and I want it to be on military wives. Ahhhh, the dream!
5 days ago, something dreadful happened. Something appeared on my face. I know what you're thinking "pampered little brat can't handle a measly spot! She wouldn't know bad skin if it bit her in the armpit" (which, incidentally, sounds ridiculously uncomfortable and quite risky. I wouldn't bite someone in the armpit if you paid me)! But, despite the fact that I have been lucky enough to not have bad skin, I do know when my face isn't quite right. Let me tell you, what was happening to my face was not right. Not in any culture was this right. At first I thought it was a coldsore so, I made sure I always had clean hands so I didn't give it to myself again and I treated it with cream. By day two, it got bigger. By day 3 it was bigger still and number 2 was joining in the fun. By day 3.5 1 and 2 had joined forces to become a mahoosive one that almost took over my entire face. I referred to it as my second face. By day 3.75 there was a 3rd growing. Now, I am now coldsore expert but I knew something was up. Yesterday morning, I resolved to go into boots and get coldsore patches to cover the monstrosities with. As I approched the desk, I asked to see the pharmacist. She came out and asked what she could do to help. "Well," said I, "My face...it's falling apart. I feel like a leper." She chuckled (who wouldn't, let's be honest) and had a good look. I told her about the coldsore epidemic (no...PANdemic) that had swept my face and she said "I don't think it's a coldsore...it looks more like impetigo." NOOOO!!! Not a highly contagious Staphylococcus aureus infection that could sweep my entire body leaving me looking scabby and gross?! Not that!! PLEASE take it back and tell me I have a coldsore epidemic! I told her about my engagement pictures coming up and she almost wept with sympathy (or maybe it was a laugh, shortly turned into a 'bless you'...couldn't quite tell). Well, I went to the doctors that afternoon and it's a good thing too! You know when you have a skin complaint and people KNOW. They just KNOW. And YOU know that they KNOW and then it's awkward. You can tell they want to express sympathy for your rotting face and they can tell that you want them to go away so you don't have to face the embarassment but niether of you do anything. Also, you know when women wish men would talk to their faces rather than...their hair or something? I experienced that today. Not for the reasons you might think....!....but because people have started talking to my bottom lip. I just wish people would look me in the EYE! I KNOW I HAVE A ROTTING FACE. I KNOW MY BOTTOM LIP LOOKS LIKE IT'S BEEN RIPPED APART AND RE-ASSEMBLED. I KNOW I AM HIDEOUS AND I KNOW YOU ARE DESPERATELY HOPING THAT STARING AT MY LIP WON'T GIVE YOU MY LIP CONDITION. I UNDERSTAND THE PARANOIA. HELLO!!!! BUT PLEASE, FEIGN INTEREST, PRETEND YOU HADN'T NOTICE AND LOOK INTO MY EYES! You will soon see the real me! I will NOT be defined by my bottom lip anymore. I refuse. Done and done.
Anyway, so I went to the doctor and he said "What can I do for you today". I just looked at him with an expression that said "Really? You can clearly see that my entire face is falling off and you're asking me what you can do to help?" I didn't say that though. Obviously. I just told him the same sorry sob story I told to the chemist and he and his medical student took it from there. He knew straight away that it wasn't a coldsore. I mean...who are we kidding. What coldsore in the world looks like THAT? (none....in case you were wondering). The medical student took a bit of time to get there. In the end, he said, after about 4 minutes of pulling teeth "So....what infection do we know that makes skin look like that?" "erm..............a Staph infection??" "Yes, so.....given what it looks like and how it's spread.....what has she got??" "erm...................................................................Imp....." (This is where I chimed in) "IMPETIGO." "Yes. You have impetigo". Joyful. Hooray. 10 points to me. 2 big thumbs up. I got it right. Score. Whoop. Whoop. Whoop. (*all to be said in most unimpressed tones*) He seemed delighted- like caitlin looks when she's solved a new puzzle. Well, I remained unimpressed. "Ohh....I have my engagement pictures this weekend. I need to NOT look like this!" He vowed to make me better by the weekend and gave me a topical steroid cream. It seems to be working well....though I still look dreadful. I was contemplating today what a tender mercy it is to have nice, un-rotting lips. I am so looking forward to having a normal face again. I will never take it for granted!!
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