A Padded Steering Wheel for the Big White Bus

Friday was an interesting day.

My energy levels are definitely on the rebound, and though I am by no means strong, I was able to actually do a couple things. Sometimes this does not even actually involve doing anything, it is more that I can visualize the process of doing something, remember that I used to do it - and get Tom to do the real work.

So several things like that happened on Friday.

Because of my weight loss, I have been noticing (and this may be way TMI for most) that sitting on the toilet has become quite painful. My big concern is that, with no natural padding of my own, my legs quickly become numb. So when I go to stand up, I have stumbled - more than once.

I ordered a padded toilet seat online, which came on Friday, and Tom installed it for me on the toilet of the upstairs bathroom. It is without a doubt one of the greatest inventions ever done. The toilet seat tends to be warm (an added bonus on these cold rainy days) and it is comfortable. I think we never purchased one before for fear of the bathroom becoming the reading room for the house. I'm not reading for hours on the commode yet - but I am comfortable and able to stand after I am done. 

The bigger news (and trust me: this felt huge, the "stop the presses" kind of news) was that I took a shower and washed my hair. 

My hair, as I have mentioned, is very thick, and tends to have a mind of its own. Washing it is a big job when it is long, one that I tend to do about once a week or so. But just the thought of making the attempt has been daunting. Standing for the amount of time it takes to do it, plus the endless turning around.

It is the turning that made me realize I could fix this. In our clawfoot bathtub, there are two racks which hold the various bathing supplies, as well as a lip where the shampoo bottles stand, leaning up against the wainscotting. Taking a shower and washing my hair involves endless turning to get one supply or another, bending over to put them back, turning to find another, etc. 

So I re engineered the hair washing experience. I took a rack and put it at the head of the tub, directly behind the faucets. Everything fits on the rack, which is also out of the way of moving around. I could take a shower and wash my hair with a minimum of turning, and the whole process seemed it would be exponentially easier.

And that is what happened: Friday morning I took a delightfully hot shower, soaping my hair and using conditioner, letting the hot water run down my back, getting myself truly clean. 

I know younger blog readers will not really get this, but my geezer friends will certainly understand. As we age, we start to feel like we are being stalked - various aches and pains struggle to bring us down, and we start to worry about things like falling in the shower. The nervousness I was feeling in making the attempt made me think of Janet Leigh. 

I guess an analogy could be made that having Stage Four cancer feels a lot like being in al Alfred Hitchcock film. But I am NOT Janet Leigh, or Tippi Hedren, and I'm not going to just wait for Norman to part the curtains. I'm still working on how to deal with this whole situation, but I feel like I am still pushing, still running, still climbing down the face of Mt. Rushmore. I fully expect to end up in that upper berth with my own version of Cary Grant, leaving this nasty country far behind.  Thanks for coming along for the ride.