“What happened to your head … you run into the door again?”
—Question from a well-meaning friend.
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Consider the lowly plastic strip bandage.
Commonly called a Band-Aid, although that’s Johnson & Johnson’s trademarked name. By any other name (mine is CVS), slap one on your arm, hand, or knee, and few will notice. But whatever the brand name, just stick one atop your head, and suddenly everyone wants to know. “Did ‘ja hurt your head?”
“No, I just thought the bandage matched my shirt nicely.”
First lesson learned: A bandage on your head invites new friends everywhere you go.
Like the kid working check out at the DG. A total stranger who stopped, mid-stream scanning my bandage purchases, and asked, “What happened to your head?”
Even the sweet little lady at the grocery store. No clue who she was. “What did you do to your head, Sonny?” Aww, gotta love a little lady who calls you “Sonny” when you’ve got as much gray hair as she does.
Speaking of gray hair, the story behind the strip bandage on my head started more than a year ago with a strange-looking place on my shoulder. Stay with me, there is a connection between the two. I had long ago accepted bumps or blemishes anywhere at this age as the norm. But because this one was a little larger and different, I asked about it at my next routine physical.
“I don’t think it’s a concern,” the NP remarked, “but let’s let a dermatologist verify that.”
Time got away from me, and I was back in the doc’s office. “What’d the dermatologist say about that place on your shoulder?”
“Ahh, about that. I didn’t get around to it. Yeah, not smart.”
So, right before Christmas, I finally shared the shoulder aberration with a specialist. “How long has it been there?” she asked.
“Mmm, ‘bout a year, or more,” I shrugged.
“How long since you’ve seen a dermatologist?”
“Let’s see … 1980 something?”
Sparing me the lecture I deserved, she checked everywhere. Back, shoulders, arms, neck, head. “The one on your shoulder is just age,” she concluded.
“Gee, thanks, doc.”
“But this one on your head, it’s suspicious.”
A few days later, the surgeon reported as he was wrapping up, “It was small. We got it all and early.” By wrapping up, I’m not joking. I left the office resembling a poster shot for the 1959 horror flick, “The Mummy.”
Removing the gauze the next morning to redress the incision was, shall we say, equally frightening. “A small one?” I gasped gazing at the two-inch incision sewn up like a football. “I’m really glad it wasn’t a big one.”
Biggest lesson learned: That tiny blemish I didn’t even know was there was the harmless-looking “tip of the iceberg.” Skin cancers grow unseen beneath the skin. If you, like me, have not done so in a while, see a dermatologist for an annual skin cancer screening, and tell them I sent you.
Basal cell carcinoma is the most common skin cancer, presenting only as small bumps or pink patches. It rarely spreads but can cause extensive local damage and scarring if left untreated. Prognosis is excellent when caught early.
Oh, and “small” is a relative term.
Old lesson learned again: Never say never.
Less than 48 hours after the procedure, the sight of a ginormous square bandage on my head Sunday morning was not pretty. Nonetheless, I fulfilled my regular weekly Sunday morning role as song leader at church. Wearing my usual coat, tie, and shiny shoes. Sporting a baseball cap.
Before commencing with the first song selection, I commented to the congregation, “One of my favorite sayings is ‘Never say never.’ I’ve led singing for most of my life, and had anyone ever said to me, ‘Someday you will stand before a Sunday morning church service to lead singing wearing a baseball cap,’ I would have laughed, ‘N-e-v-e-r.’
“Well, here I stand.”
Within a few days, I thankfully traded the big, bulky white bandage for a smaller flesh-tone plastic strip dressing. Call it by whatever name you like, I’m still wearing one and healing nicely. And still meeting new friends.
What I honestly already knew: The cause is usually from sun exposure. So, kids, when your mother tells you, as mine did, to wear a hat and sunscreen when you go outside, please pay better attention than I did.
That way, hopefully you won’t have to learn from a bandage. One we all use often, but still never know what to call it.
—Leon Aldridge
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Aldridge columns are featured in these publications: The Center Light and Champion, The Mount Pleasant Tribune, the Rosenberg Fort Bend Herald, the Taylor Press, the Alpine Avalanche, the Fort Stockton Pioneer, the Elgin Courier, The Monitor in Naples, and Motor Sports Magazine.
© Leon Aldridge and A Story Worth Telling 2026. Excerpts and links may be used, provided full and clear credit is given to Leon Aldridge and ‘A Story Worth Telling’ with appropriate and specific directions to the original content.
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