I love my husband

Thank goodness for a man with a strong stomach!

If you remember, last week, Tuesday morning to be exact, I had a dermatologist remove a growth on my finger related to the pregnancy. It was a big, ugly gaping hole, but it started scabbing over before long.

Unfortunately, by Thursday evening it was starting to feel extra tender. And by Friday morning, I was fairly sure it was infected. Painful, swollen, and warm to the touch. I had never dealt with any infected wound before (at least, not within my own memory), so I wasn't positive. But between showing it to Jesse and looking up symptoms online, I decided it was infected. At that point in time, the only way I knew to deal with infected wounds was to go to the doctor for antibiotics, but I just absolutely groaned at the idea. A 10-day course of antibiotics so close to the birth of a baby would absolutely increase my chances of dealing with thrush with a nursing baby, and I didn't want to have to deal with something like that at the same time as trying to establish a breastfeeding relationship. The first couple weeks of breastfeeding is hard enough, without complications like thrush. So I looked for other options, and found recommendations
for cleansing the wound several times a day with hydrogen peroxide, and using an antibiotic cream after that. So I decided to give it a shot. But late Friday night, I wasn't feeling so sure it would work, and was really feeling ready to call the doctor first thing in the morning and get an appointment.

Please be warned of some upcoming grossness if you have an easily upset stomach!
I still wasn't sure what I was going to do in the morning, but at the end of my nice long shower, I noticed a spot near the edge of the wound that looked like some liquid. I put a bit of pressure near it, and suddenly massive amounts of pus came pouring out from underneath the scab.
Once I was out of the shower and dressed, I showed it to Jesse and told him what happened. And we decided to remove the scab and some surrounding dead skin.

And this is where I just have to say how much I love my husband. He sat down with some freshly sterilized fingernail clippers, and went to work on the thing, removing the scab and the dead skin and exposing all the yuckiness underneath. It was truly disgusting. I could hardly watch half the time. Yes, I can totally handle the images of childbirth, and the associated pain, but an exposed crater in the tissue of my finger is enough to make feel a bit queasy. But Jesse handled it without a single complaint, and was extra gentle to make sure he didn't hurt me in the process.

And once it was all done, I went back to work with the hydrogen peroxide and antibiotic cream. Within a day it was feeling so much better. Today it looks and feels like it's healing normally, finally, and I've stopped using the hydrogen peroxide.

I'm so grateful we could avoid the antibiotics and take care of this at home...and for a wonderful husband who has a strong stomach for gross things. :)