Bonds instantly


When I mentioned that I apply Krazy Glue to my cracked fingers (originally posted here), a few readers responded.

“Do you know about Liquid Bandage… or New Skin?” they asked via email.

Well, now I do, I thought. (Both are topical treatments for minor cuts.)

“Thanks for the tip,” I wrote back. “I’ll get some.”

But I didn’t.

I didn’t need Liquid Bandage because I already had Krazy Glue. I stashed it beside our pill vials and other remedies. Who cares if the product isn’t approved for medical use, and manufacturers say Krazy Glue shouldn’t contact the skin? It’s been a successful treatment in our house.

Until Sunday night.

That evening I was preoccupied in conversation — actually… I was yelling at Martin — while I applied Krazy Glue to a painful crack in my thumb. Clutching the product in my healthy hand, I peered at the wound and continued arguing.

I haven’t the foggiest notion what I was yelling. But I shut up fast and stared at my left hand: the Krazy Glue tube was stuck to my thumb. I waved my thumb in the air; the glue dangled beneath. It was just like that ’80s ad with the construction worker flailing from a steel girder.

“Oh my God…” Martin muttered. Not in a sympathetic tone, but in that “how stupid can you be?” kind of tone.

The glue hadn’t claimed a modest patch of skin; it adhered to my entire thumb. (The situation was so dire, I didn’t pause to photograph the immediate crisis.)

“Help! Get it off, get it off!”

“Just tear it off,” Martin said, “Quick! Like a Band-Aid!”

But it wouldn’t budge. I pulled it, yanked it, and grabbing a butter knife, wedged the blade against the hardened glue. My thumb was stuck, now throbbing with pain.

“Jo, seriously, you better pull it off or you’re going to have major problems.”

“Help me! No…don’t!” I said when he threatened the Band-Aid technique.

Eventually — after much yelling about the merits of keeping rubbing alcohol in the kitchen — Martin doused my thumb in hand sanitizer (a cousin to rubbing alcohol), and I pried away the tube. It peeled off…

…except for a ragged section which proclaimed allegiance to my thumb.



A portion of the label stayed stuck.


I peered at the mangled Krazy Glue tube like a coiled snake, and studied the patch cemented to my hand. Martin rolled his eyes and sighed. “Just leave it alone for a day,” he said. “Let the trauma subside and then you can pull off the rest.”



Post removal…


It took two days and some nail polish to restore my skin to a healthy state. I’m so thankful to have my good-old thumb back.

And I threw out the Krazy Glue.

But after a moment, I fished it from the trash and returned it to the medicine cabinet.

I learned my lesson: never apply Krazy Glue amidst a verbal tirade…