Sunday, 3 February 2013


To counter the yuckiness of today's posts my image depicts my favourite flower, blue, blue  irises.  Useless as a cut bloom but glorious in the open, in spring time swathes.

Now, onto an entirely different matter although.  Mr Metrosexual is a dual registered nurse extraordinaire.  Not only is he is an RMN, he trained  as a general nurse in one of the big London hospitals.  So, he's your man if you need someone to stitch up a big wound and mess with your head at the same time.

Whilst at lunch with me and Red Mel yesterday he bought up the highly appropriate meal time topic of one of his chores on a student obs and gynae-y placement.  Clinical people working in the NHS do this but look away now if you're non medical and squeamish.   I reinforce this warning particularly if you're eating.   One of  Mr M's tasks to enhance his learning experiencee was boxing up the placentas for a well known cosmetic company to collect and use in their face cream.  A quick search on the Internet suggests that, unfortunately,  he was not kidding us for shock effect.  Another nurse who was a student at the time recalled that her hospital got about 50p for a box of ten.  Apparently 'mother essence'  has been used by the wealthy since age immemorial  and may well have been a component of beauty products until just a couple of decades ago.  Mmmmmm!

What people do with their own placenta is their business  (Pate anyone?)   but let's just say that smearing someone else's unsolicited body parts on my face would, in my mind, fly in the face of acceptable behaviour.   More modern products seem to harness the idea of animal afterbirth being an effective skin care ingredient too.  I think I'll be sticking with plant based products even if they leave me less than wrinkle free!

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