Spot the Clot (or lack of it)

Stepped out of the shower this morning and was drying myself when I had a familiar and slightly disturbing experience…

Blood spatter.

Not on the walls or the floor or, heaven forbid, the ceiling. On my towel. Which was fresh out of the linen cupboard.

Ok – so I don’t have a linen cupboard, it was just off the pile of clean towels dumped on our spare bed, but that ain’t the point, right.

Blood spatter.

I repeat for effect. And because I found two spatters.

One little grouping initially. Then another slightly redder affair which stopped me in my drying tracks.

Hmmmm, I thought, as I stood slightly damp, examining the evidence.

Hmmmm, I thought, as I put aside the towel and rotated in front of the bathroom mirror.

No facial bleeding – no spots picked or nose bleeds or toothbrush injuries.
No chest bleeding.
No tummy bleeding.
No arm bleeding – from over zealous loofahing.
No foreleg bleeding – from epilating my calves yesterday.
No neck bleeding.
No back bleeding.
No hindleg bleeding … wait just a minute … there he is the little bleeder …

Back of my left thigh – just above the knee – it’s just a spot – no it’s a blob – no it’s a dribble.

I mop it up with a piece of loo roll. Press another piece on it hard to try and stop it.

It works! For once 🙂

I must confess. It was my fault. I Veeted that thigh today. Must’ve left it one a few seconds longer than I shoulda. Ooopsy daisy.

Just keeping an eye on my jeans now – these little ones have a habit of re-appearing when they’re least wanted ….

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