The Bandage

Life has become hard for most people on planet Earth. It feels like everything we do to make things better is merely a bandage, not a cure.

Are you a fan of the TV show “The Good Place?” The other night Michael argued that no one can get into the good place anymore because life is too full of unintended consequences for even the smallest action like buying a tomato in the supermarket.

Life is complicated and the bandages holding it together are becoming frayed and worn.

Please use the open space below to share your first 50 words on the topic “the bandage.”

Author: Virginia DeBolt

Writer and teacher who writes blogs about web education, writing practice, and pop culture.

4 thoughts on “The Bandage”

  1. It seems as if doing things right the first time is an oxymoron. It would be feasible to make the corrections at the onset rather than waiting for things to get extremely worse then take the proper corrective measures. This is what happens when instead of doing things correctly we take the bandage approach. Whenever there is an opportunity for course corrections in attitudes, property management or business correct things properly the first time and you will not suffer so much later.

  2. It was the day after her surgery at a major teaching hospital in Boston. She’d been on a morphine drip and would go in and out of consciousness. This was the first time she was aware that the Giant Cell Tumor on her left foot had been excised; along with her little toe and a slice up along the outer part of her foot to her ankle. An intern came into the room to remove the bandage and examine the incision. All she could think of was the extent to which she was frightened about seeing her new foot. She would have preferred more time before removing the bandage. She needed to get herself psyched and squash her fear. Her “little piggy” had gone to market and she did not want to see the new look just yet.

  3. “Bandage my knees , please .”
    “But baby , I have already applied the ointment . It needs to dry now .”
    “Mama, at the assembly flies sit on my bruise , the ointment runs with the sweat and my PT instructor keeps barking at me to stand still . What do I do ? You tell me . ” The pleading eyes had now a layer of moisture on them .
    I took out the bandage and sighed .
    “Show me your knee baby .”

    Last weekend , we , together, paid a visit to the old school where my daughter attended these humiliating assemblies . I looked at her . She darted from one place to another in the large playground .

    “Look Ma , this is where they held the annual obstacle race . ”
    “This is where we had our tug of war . This is where we used to sit in the lunch break . Simmi broke her arm when she fell from that swing .”

    An amused sweeper stopped mid sweep , to watch my daughter relive her school days . A smudged bandage covered her big toe. .
    “That ? Oh , I was trying to clip an ingrowing toe nail . ” She smiled at my curiosity and resumed sweeping . It was a holiday and the school verandah was deserted . My kid was fondly running her finger tips through a wall mural depicting humpty dumpty .

    “Come lets go . Let us not keep your Papa waiting . “

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