Being without a bath or shower facility, my beloved arranged an alternative venue where we may partake of such luxuries. As an idea it was quite wonderful but, the reality is best forgotten.
The bath was either half or three-quarters of the size of what I had misguidedly assumed was the norm. The hand-held shower device was situated beneath the sloping roof of the terrace house. Being unable to adjust the shower-head to an appropriate temperature, or work out how it could be used other than from a seated position, formal bathing was decided upon.
My joints, being the semi-inflexible source of current spasmodic discomfort, were instantly traumatized by the experience but, I must admit it felt nice to have water splashing upon the torso. The real delights occurred as I tried to remove myself from the washtub.
The difficulty encountered when moving, from a seated with legs (of necessity) bent position, into the appropriate semi upright position required to remove ones-self from the bathing receptacle, is almost beyond description. My beloved’s (reasonable sounding) suggestion that I turn onto my knees was taken on board, thwarted only by the restraints of the washtub’s width. Visions of emergency services being called, to remove me, were at the forefront of one’s mind. [The time is none too distant since they had to rescue me from the stairs in my own home].
Eventually, I managed to overcome the resistance of back, arm and leg muscles (and the pertinent joints) to perform my own deliverance!
- living and frequently struggling with moderate M.E. -
where (bad) health, faith, politics and the joys and troubles of daily life collide.
ME
No comments:
Post a Comment