I asked VR who was an SRN in the often times whether those in surgical practice used to thread the needle. She says they did. Now needles come pre-threaded to ensure good hygiene. Also to save time, I suppose.
They go even further. When they want to measure a corporeal detail they use a hygienically wrapped tape measure which is then discarded. And some cutting devices, once sterilised for hours in an autoclave, post-op, are now disposable.
There's an interesting minor dilemma here. We're against waste yet this form of waste inhibits infection. But hey, who wants to go down with a bad case of septicemia?
And I myself am part of the trend since I use disposable razors. An activity which is at odds with being born in the West Riding. For West Ridingers are stingy and I - following that grand tradition - tend to hang on to my razors far too long. It's not so much that they become blunt but they cease to have any cutting function at all. Yet my beard is kept in check. How can this be? I conclude that I go over my hairy face more than once and that the bristles are eventually ground away.
Please don't recommend an electric or a cut-throat or the latest Gillette ten-blader. Self-harm is another West Riding tendency, especially if it saves cash. Regard me as incorrigible.
Query: may thoughts be disposable? Or do they rumble on, blunt as toffee-apples? That possibility worries me.
What did I miss? Wishing you well, Robbie.
ReplyDeleteI seem to remember, way back when all the world was blogging, that I recommended my own brand of disposable razor to you (Gillette Blue 3) when you were complaining about the lack of longevity of your,then, current razor.
ReplyDeleteOne seems to last me a month before it is binned, but perhaps your virile Tikey bristles need a similarly virile blade?
I hope, stitch removal was painless and your face is looking better than ever.
ReplyDeleteNow, as it seems more than obvious that humanity is heading towards permanent disposal any way, dispose whatever you wish, we are not going to save this planet with one razor avoided.
Instead, be a nuisance, confronting *real* waste and keep that down. Make noise where it may have an impact.
If that's what your problem is with disposable stuff. However, if it's just a matter of savings, look at it the way my pension administration person told me last week: at your age, why bother . . . - he did say this, honestly, he is about 35.
As for the miraculous disappearance of your stubble, maybe it shrank in fear of anticipation, ready to spring up again by tomorrow morning? Hair is powerful.
Beth: The stitches were real but the reasons for them were, I hope, mundane. The idea was to catch the eye, an old jounalistic trick.
ReplyDeleteAvus: The post wasn't about blade durability but my tendency to hang on to razors far too long, a longstanding failing also applicable to handkerchiefs.
Sabine: I honestly didn't think I was vain but for my singing lesson I did wear an Elastoplast for purely cosmetic reasons. Once I thought of my face as lined but dignified, now it's more pustular. I may have to retire from society.
At 35 you think you're never going to die, at 60 you admit to the possibility, at 70 you stop reading all medical articles in the newspaper, at 80 you occasionally wake and wonder whether death might have occurred overnight. At 82 - today in fact - you drink a mixture of Scotch whisky and Fever Tree ginger ale, rejoice in its novelty and put on a new shirt preparatory to a family dinner at Simply Thai. Life it seems is ups as well as downs.
Belated good wishes, RR. The Scotch and ginger sounds good to this individual who needs to eschew all alcohol, which must not be mixed with my medication - another vice forcibly taken from me (sex went about 20 years ago after my prostate op!)
ReplyDeleteBelated etc, and joy of your stitch removal.
ReplyDeleteIt's possible that the energy required to sterilise such things in an autoclave represents greater waste than chucking them out, and perhaps recycling them, though I gather much of that takes place somewhere in the PRC having sent it all there in container ships.
I have a horror of 'safety' razor blades; I own a strange plastic cutting comb device I bought for the dog and occasionally use on my own hair to save on hairdressing costs which takes them, but disposing of them gives me the willies; I wrap them in many wasteful layers of paper and rubber bands yet still imagine them cutting into the hands of waste disposal operatives, or even seagulls' feet in landfill sites.
It also astonishes and somewhat terrifies me that hairdressers persist in using cut throat razors for the finishing touches round the neck etc. I wonder how they train to use them?
Avus: I have avoided this sanction by lying grotesquely about my alcohol consumption levels. I'm told that everyone does it and doctors make allowances for this mendacity. When I suggested out of gratititude that I was toying with rewarding my doctor with a bottle of wine he said he only drank single-malt Scotch. So there the matter rested.
ReplyDeleteLucy: There are occasions when you seem to make yourself sound older than you are. I can remember those horrific comb/blade things but felt sure they belonged to an era that predated your birth. That their very ethos (saving tiny sums of money) related to wartime thinking. Of course you could have picked one up in a secondhand shop but their potential "infectedness" makes this unlikely. The revelation that you used it on yourself hints that you may be striving to characterise yourself as "don't care, rural eccentric" whereas I know you to be a super-sophisticate.
I have taxed various hairdressers and/or barbers on the subject of cut-throats, since these instruments were used to trim my sideburns when I was very young. The barber who cut my Baptist minister grandfather's hair also cut mine and had a small wooden case emblazoned with his name (Thomas Bentley Holmes) with slots for six razors, the theory being that, once used, the blade could be "rested" for the rest of the working week.
Present-day hair professionals say cut-throats are completely no-no. The risk of litigation is too great. I can't say I'm sorry. I didn't enjoy their touch.
Well in fact I bought the comb thing new a few years ago, from one of those catalogues, Vitrine Magique or something, and it had won a prize, for what I'm not quite sure. It was hopeless for hacking through Molly's thick fluffy pelt, but is extraordinarily compulsive and satisfying for slashing through one's own hair, and less drastic in its effects than scissors. Nevertheless it's probably just as well that I don't use it much on account of the razor blade thing. Mostly I keep my hair out of my increasingly hyperopic eyes by shoving my glasses on top of my head.
ReplyDeleteAnd indeed, hairdressers here, even young ones in chain salons, still use old fashioned cut-throat razors for tidying up. I shut my eyes and extend the same faith that I do to airline pilots.
Lucy: Heroism in the hairdresser's chair as well as the dentist's. That's WW1 courage. But what do you think about to cover up the apprehension? Sing an ear-worm, perhaps. Vitrine Magique, forsooth. Why are such titles so charming (Childish? Naïve?) in French, yet so raucous, so obvious in English?
ReplyDeleteBut one of your predictions is coming true. French is gradually losing its hold on me with German coming to the fore. Here's my new warm-up song:
Guten Abend, gut' Nacht,
Mit Rosen bedacht,
Mit Näglein besteckt,
Schlupf unter die Deck,
Morgen fruh, wenn Gott will,
Wirst du wieder geweckt
Morgen fruh, wenn Gott will,
Wirst du wieder geweckt.
No translation needed for you, I suspect. Nobody questions your seriousness when you sing German. But not because of the words, Germany has the best songsmiths.