Eww, I have gross legs

You may not know this. If we haven't met, you have no way of knowing this. And if we have met, you're unlikely to have noticed. But I have superdisgusting legs. Fortunately, these superdisgusting legs are also our visual aid for tonight. Yay.

Since my mid-teens, I've had icky varicose veins on my calves. They are not subtle, not by any means -- they're so pronounced that a young gentleman at the gym during my college years may in fact have once asked me if I would tell him more about the horrible accident that had so dramatically mangled me. He may specifically have inquired if it involved an animal bite. (I don't dwell on past wrongs, not me.)

Regardless, I have gross, veiny legs. I will never be Tina Turner. However, the Handbook offers tips for a modern girl on the go. Sort of. See, for the First Aid badge (that's me, always bringing it back!), I need to explain how to treat severely ruptured varicose veins.

Wait.

Ruptured? With severe hemorrhage?

(That pause was just me going to the doctor in a panic.)

(Actually, it wasn't. After my grandmother's examining my leg and asking "What is that," I did once go to the doctor. He told me to wear support hose, which I coudln't bear to purchase, and therefore I totally ignored his advice. Oops.)

Now, my icky legs just look icky -- they don't hurt. (Also, it's surprisingly hard to photograph your own leg. So you know.) But apparently, varicose veins can become a big problem when they rupture. Leading up to it, though, they tend to bulge and turn reddish or purplish, which seems like the sort of thing that would already be a problem. So, you know.

By all reports (and I'm not willing to crack open my own legs to test it), the main strategy for a bleeding varicose vein is the standard elevation-and-pressure -- keeping the bleeding extremity above the heart and applying firm pressure above the wound (hence, I suppose, my deeply-refused compression hose).

Mission? Accomplished!