When my friend texted and asked if he could drop by, I took one look in the mirror and responded with an uncertain, "Hmmm... I don't know about that." Hair that looked like it had just come out from under a waterfall, a shirt that wreaked of two days of laying still in bed on one body, armpit hair that could have hosted a zoo full of tiny insects... all these things you never wanted to imagine on any woman... or man, for that matter. So, despite the pain that has been plaguing me night and day, I wiggled my shirt off, put a swimsuit top on then looked at the journey my shorts were about to take down my leg; that cast was not going to be an easy obstacle.
Using the left leg, I dug my heal into my mattress and lifted my butt off the bed. With one swoop of my hands, my shorts were halfway down my legs. Now came the challenge. I stretched the leg of the shorts wide and gently directed it past the cast. Success! My left leg is still clad by a compression sleeve, which is hooked into a machine (the Darth Vador machine), which is plugged into the wall. Due to this contraption, when my shorts came off my left leg, they were still attached to my set-up. Hmmm... I had to chuckle at my predicament. How was I going to untangle this mess? Finally, I decided to just take the darn compression sleeve off of my leg. After that, getting my bikini bottoms on seemed like a breeze.
Mom came into the room and helped me onto my crutches. The muscles of my right quad engaged to lift the white plaster high enough off the ground so I wouldn't knock my heel on the rug. Mom tried to make me feel better about myself by making a comment about my "slamming" bikini-clad body. I hobbled on my one-of-a-kind Mobilegs to the bathroom then, with the help of my mother, pivoted my body and slowly bent my left leg to lower myself on the ledge of the bathtub, right leg propped up on a ottoman.
"How are we going to do this? Do you want me to wash your body first or your hair," my mother asked.
I appreciated her offer, but was not about to let my mother bathe me. If I could do anything on my own, I was going to take every advantage of it.
"Here," I said as I shuffled my butt down into the tub, leg still propped up on the ottoman.
She laughed, but nervously asked, "How do you plan to get out?"
"I'll just use my arms," I replied. "I'm not incapable of using my upper body."
After wrapping my leg in a trash bag, just in case, she looked at me with hesitancy, seeking out any sort of task she could do to help before leaving.
"I'm okay, Mom," I reassured her.
Nervously, she left the room, closing the door behind her so she could go change my sheets and make my bed. That woman has a servant's heart like no other human I know.
I used the shower head to wet my hair and clean myself off. When I was finished, my arms gripped to the bath ledge behind me as I dug my left heal down and lifted my glutes off of the fiberglass tub. When I sat upright, I looked around for a nearby towel; when I realized there was nothing, I was forced to call for help. Mom came to the rescue and wrapped a towel around my shoulders then left the room. My eyes scanned the room again. My hairbrush, my toothbrush... everything that could have been useful at this moment was just out of reach. The feeling of being helpless rose up inside of me; tasks that used to be so easy, such as walking across the room to put paste on my toothbrush, were now seemingly impossible.
Dizziness overwhelmed my body as I waited for my mother's return. A familiar voice broke through the silence. Cory was here to check up on me. Me, sitting half-dressed on the edge of a fiberglass bathtub, hair wet and dripping. Well shoot. Everyone loves an awkward situation.
Rub-a-dub-dub. First trip to the tub.
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