I am not sure why but I keep thinking about this time when I was a teenager and discovered my sister had a horrible burn on her leg.
"OMG!!! What happened to your leg?" I looked at her taking off the taped gauze she had around the back of her calf. "I was pretty drunk and was standing too close to the fire, I had cords on and didn't even know my pantleg was on fire til it really started to burn me" This was a bad burn, I remember seeing red skin with loads of blister, sore and open. "You better tell Mom, that is really a bad burn" She was scared, "no, I can't tell anyone, she will just get mad and yell, I've been taking care of it for a few days now, can you help me?" I was upset to see this injury, how could she of not known her clothes were on fire. "What can I do to help you?" She pointed to a small tube on her dresser, "give me that stuff over there, I've got to make sure I keep it clean and I've been using that" I looked and saw a tube of neosporin, walked over and got it for her. Carfully we applied as much as she could take, then I helped her wrap it back up and tape more gauze over the wound. She was so brave, she didn't cry, she hardly winced as we medicated it daily. Slowly it started to heal, and finally we decided that she should leave the gauze off it at night to let air get at it. My mother never knew, my sister wore pants the rest of that summer to hide it and no one was the wiser.
I try each day to have open communication with my teenager, I hope if anything ever happens like that to her, she would feel safe enough to come to me so I could help her. My sister got lucky, it never got infected and it healed in time. Things could of gone really bad.