Do Band-Aids Expire?

In my pre-COVID life (Are we going to come up with some clever name for this? Like: The Great Depression 2?) I walked 10k steps a day moving back and forth between conference rooms at Facebook’s campus. A 6-hour block of back-to-backs meant I was clocking 4 miles at an ‘ah crap, I’m late again’ pace. But COVID came, sequestering me in a 1,164sq. ft. apartment where if I have a reason to get up from my computer twice a day it’s a field day, and now my Fitbit yells at me every hour on the hour and I’ve started to yell back.

I had to find alternative environments to get some steps in. I live on top of 75 strangers who I am actively trying to avoid (not new), and my building is on a main thoroughfare in Oakland, where it seems the 6ft rule applies only if you’re not 1) running or 2) having a conversation with someone because then just TAKE YOUR HALF OUT OF THE MIDDLE HERE, SUSAN. So I’ve been driving to trails in some of the surrounding regional parks every few days to get some fresh air and protect myself and those joggers (from me MURDERING THEM).

Let me just tell you - hiking in East Bay Redwood Regional is different from walking back and forth to meetings. Facebook Building 20 doesn’t really have what one would call, “terrain.” Mr. Zuckerberg has done an excellent job instructing his builders to level out the walkways and footpaths. The hiking trails of the East Bay did not have the same contractor, it seems. They are not what one calls “level” or “safe” in some cases - what they are, in fact, is varying.

This is how the first blister formed. Well, that - plus I didn’t feel like digging down into my ‘sport shoe’ basket for the correct shoes. Instead, I grabbed the old New Balance sneakers that were on top. They make my feet look smaller because of the way they narrow in at the toe. Only my feet AREN’T small, nor do they narrow in at the toe and so: I got a blister after the first 6 miles. Don’t worry - I didn’t look at it and did an additional 5 miles the next day in the same shoes. (What, they were ALREADY dusty!) 

I was unable to maintain my exercise routine, on account of how I couldn’t wear any shoes for a few days after that. 

I did the best I could with it - I put a band-aid on it! It was one of the Star Wars ones I found in the back of a drawer. I have no recollection of purchasing the box, which means that I inherited it from my former roommate. So it was at least 3 years old. And honestly, I’m not sure what band-aids really do - so I didn’t know if it mattered how old they were. Do bandaids expire? Is it medicine somehow? (This is how COVID-19 will kill me, by the way. Not from the disease itself, but from having to actually take care of myself on my own.) I am 32 years old and googling ‘do bandaids expire’ on my bathroom floor. 

This is not going exactly how I thought it would. 

I recovered enough (blister is still there) but I wore PROPER running shoes this time, and I kept my toe bandaged. I was 2 miles in when the back of my left ankle started to scratch. I assumed it was just a rock or something I kicked up because I guess I walk weird? I don’t know. I am ALWAYS getting tiny rocks and dust in my shoes. (Is no one else dealing with this problem? Do I walk too aggressively? Like, is there a massive cloud of dust that follows me around like Pig-Pen from Charlie Brown because of how I walk?) I paused to try to swipe it out from between my sock and the skin of my ankle. It felt a bit better. And then it got worse. 

At mile three and a half, I knew I was hosed. I don’t actually think it was just the rock. It was the fact that these sneakers have a narrow heel cuff. (I made that term up.) It just means that they fit fairly tight in the heel so they don’t move around when I’m running, which I don’t do anymore so I forgot. This is all well and fine if the socks I’m wearing come up high enough that the tops of the backs of the shoes don’t hit skin. 

We’re all aware of what I did wrong this time. 

Honestly, I’m still mad. Are you kidding me with this? I’m trying to do the RIGHT thing here. I’m trying to EXERCISE. So I don’t MURDER my COWORKERS and NEIGHBORS. Now there’s blood filling up the back of my left shoe and I don’t even know if the bandaids I have are good anymore. I hobbled back to my car, resigned to the fact that there was no fixing this problem. Every step was just a deeper scratch, turning into a cut, turning into an open wound that was now an additional entry point for the Coronavirus. Can you get COVID through an open wound? I thought almost disinterestedly at this point. I pulled open the door and leaned against the driver seat, gingerly taking off my shoes to see that yes, in fact, the top of my left shoe was soaked in my own blood. My right ankle fared a bit better - only with a layer of skin rubbed off. (Neat.) I threw both shoes on to the passenger side floor and huffed. It was hot, my face felt sunburned, and I was going to get blood on the interior of my new Lexus. 

A helicopter circled above and began to land on top of one of the hills. Maybe someone had died up on one of the trails. “Lucky bastard,” I mumbled to myself, disinfecting my hands before wiping some of the blood off my ankle with a wet cloth. At this point, I thought, it might just be easier to get sick. At least then, if I didn’t die, I would be able to walk in my own neighborhood again, in normal shoes. 

And if I did die, at least then I wouldn’t have to buy more bandaids.