A couple weeks ago, Lexi complained that her finger hurt. It looked like she had a hangnail that had caused the irritation. I got out the Epsom salt and told her to soak it, then I dabbed on some Neosporin before bandaging it. We repeated this for a few days and then I forgot about it because that's what I do. Single mom, six kids, two jobs, super-busy. I just didn't think to ask her about her finger because it was just an irritated cuticle. No big deal, right?
Fast forward two weeks. Yesterday morning, Lexi nonchalantly showed me her finger and said, "I don't think it's getting better."
I looked at her hand and gasped! "Ohmygosh! That's horrible! Is that the same finger?" I asked incredulously as I cringed at the sight of her red, swollen finger that was oozing nastiness. The skin was peeling up like layers of phyllo dough on a baklava. Sorry for that visual, but you're welcome for not putting an actual picture on here. I asked, "Why didn't you tell me it was getting worse? Oh my gosh, doesn't it hurt?"
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