This Sunday took place in the shadow of a painfully blocked milk duct. The progression of events went about like this:
- Good morning! Wow, my tit is certainly very full of milk.
- Oh, damn.
- Hours of fruitless hot compresses, hot showers, glasses of water, ibuprofin, attempts at expressing with the dairy-cow machine, and lethargic moaning (lethargy and moaning both of course known to be highly fruitful at the best of times).
- A timid and tentative piercing of the bleb with a sterile needle.
- THANK CHRIST. Bless you, suckling infant, for the powerful hoover of your maw.
- Forty-five minutes of limp, yet enthusiastic, vocal relief.
Quite a satisfying dramatic arc, in the end, with all the ingredients—foreshadowing, rising action, climax, falling action, dénouement—just as they taught us in school.
And what a fine word "bleb" is, incidentally, isn't it? It's even better, as so many words are, if you take the time to read up on it in the OED. There you will find such splendid sentences as
fig.1651 [Henry] MORE Enthus. Triumph* (1656) 180 You blebs of venery, you bags of filth!
and
1880 J. E. BURTON Handbk. Midwives §38. 25 The ovum, or egg, is at first a little bladder, or bleb.
The second of these may seem fairly unremarkable on the face of it, but I think you'll find that it's very catchy. Try it aloud: The ovum! Or egg. Is at first a little bladder! Or bleb.
You'll also be happy to learn that "bleb" can also be a verb, meaning (and the exact phrasing of this is the good bit, obviously) "to furnish with blebs." Hence:
1821 CLARE Vill. Minstr. II. 84 While big drops..bleb the withering hay with pearly gems.
Do you think this was written to be romantic, poetic, evocative, tender, lovely? I believe it was. But I fear, John Clare, that this line has not stood the test of time.
*Full title: Enthusiasmus triumphatus, or a discourse of the nature, causes, kinds and cure of enthusiasme.
I can easily imagine Burton's line being sung with wide intervallic leaps and harpsichord accompaniment.
Posted by: ben w | 09/26/2010 at 07:32 PM
Don't forget that Seamus Heaney line about "the bleb of the icicle."
Also, bleb sounds like a Unix command.
Posted by: kevinshay | 09/26/2010 at 08:06 PM
Good grief, you poor thing. I had no idea this sort of thing went on with breastfeeding. Excellent story though, as you say.
You'll be pleased to hear that the word "bleb" is still going strong in the north of England and we commonly use it to refer to blisters or pustules (as we hobble round dying of the Black Death, etc.)
Posted by: Nellig | 09/27/2010 at 04:02 AM
Via Wordnik:
"COOPER: You have been listening to Secretary of State Colin Powell, where in bleb, appearing with Lebanese Foreign Minister Jean Obedy (ph).
—CNN Transcript May 3, 2003"
http://www.wordnik.com/words/bleb
Posted by: David Jacobs | 09/27/2010 at 11:39 AM
Never heard of bleb but then I'm in the south of the UK. No black death here either.
Posted by: Betty M | 09/28/2010 at 05:13 AM
Ben: Indeed. I hadn't thought of the harpsichord myself, but now I can't not imagine it.
Kevin: I wonder what bleb would do. I keep trying to come up with something clever and falling short--but surely there is some perfect Unix role for it to fill.
Nellig and Betty: I am pleased! Thank heaven for the plaguey North. ... Wait! That's not what I meant! Ahem. Anyhow, this is an intriguing linguistic datum. I wonder what the currency of "bleb" is in Scotland.
David: Poor Colin Powell, blebbed by phonetic transcription. I'm not sure whether I'd rather imagine that he was covered in blisters or like the Boy in the Bubble.
You all might enjoy these pustule related words, as well.
Posted by: redfox | 09/28/2010 at 08:39 PM