OK, an outside shower can be pretty nice too, cleaning the air, watering all the plants so we don't have to, barring lightning and hail of course. But I'm talking about the inside kind, clean warm water and soap, ridding one of all the buildup of dirt, salt, and (presumably) stink, as well as making my hair manageable again.
I have a new appreciation for those these days. It's been a bit too tropical outside recently, meaning it's expensive running the AC and fans enough to be comfortable indoors, and uncomfortable to do many necessary things like housekeeping, taking out large bags of garbage for cans needing to be hauled to the curb weekly, pulling the weeds which always sprout up regardless of it being too hot and dry... all that stuff. Even after the sticky has dried off my skin, the salt is left, and on my skin it only serves to make the little irritations sting. I presume that in addition, odors build, despite my nose no longer recognizing them. I have absolutely no reason to believe human body chemistry changes enough with aging to eliminate the usual combination of stinks. I have faith that all of you appreciate my showers as well, any time you get within several feet or so.
I have recently realized just how much a slightly hot shower relaxes my post-surgical shoulders, allowing me to move them into positions they used to go without complaints and which are very helpful with mundane things like hanging up the wrung-out washcloth over the shower bar and spread it out to dry there rather than mildew. That newfound looseness, for however long it lasts, allows toweling in locations unreachable for a long time. When Steve was in the hospital for his surgery, and later in rehab learning to walk again, for the first time in a long time I managed to do those chores for myself without him, and mostly without any pain from stretching those muscles.
Do I need to mention I'm not anxious to test that when winter comes and fuzzy fabric has to "slide" over fuzzy fabric so warmth can be achieved without kicking up the utility bills even more? I'll have more practice by then, so fingers crossed, both for the doing it myself and for not needing to because Steve's still here.
Then there's being able to reach up to comb my own hair, or even trim the edges around my face. It still takes more time than 20 years ago, and I only do the face parts for trimming these days where I used to trim my whole head with a scissor, but it saves me about a haircut every two months I'd have to pay somebody else for. They cost twice what they did before, now that I have half the free budget to get somebody else to try to understand exactly what I want. (How difficult is it, really, to understand no longer than two inches at the crown and tapering to nothing at the hairline, with a curve instead of those two points at the bottom in back? They try to indicate their understanding by giving me a clipper number. It's like expecting me to know a fifth language or something, when these days I barely know three of the four I learned, and none of those substitute numbers for words. Does my confusion make them feel superior? It doesn't get me the haircut I want 90% of the time.)
My PT lady asks me how well I can do with certain milestones in strength and flexibility. How far in different direction can I lift an arm? How long can I hold it? What can I do again for myself without help? All are better after a nearly-hot shower. The one that gets me is can I scrub my own back? As long as she puts it in "scrub" terms, I brush the question off. The water rinses all the dirt and salt off my skin, and my large towels pulled from their ends from side to side behind me get loose skin and water. What else is needed? Does some unknown sticky mud accumulate on my back where it's never seen by me that somehow everybody else on the planet can scrub off for themselves?
As for dressing, my clothing is all loose enough to be pulled down once the skin is dry, at least in my summer wardrobe. I don't own anything that fastens behind me in any way. If we're talking pants they're all loose enough to be pulled up/down by their waistbands into position, and either elastic or drawstrings keep them in place or a front closure does the job. I haven't had a back closing bra for decades, despite other women suggesting I just fasten it in front, twist it around to the back, and somehow force my arms through the straps. Ladies, if you want to go through all those contortions yourselves, have at it. I'll try not to laugh in your faces, imagining your tryouts for the circus. I actually can manage to be that polite most of the time.
The mild gardening I've been doing this spring/summer, along with normal housekeeping chores, have been doable, so long as it's nothing heavy and high. I have people for that, or they don't get done, period. Mildly heavier things like dishes in the cupboard get where they're needed, just mostly lower or with a stepstool with a grab bar . I still need help opening my car hood, but I've expected than ever since I heard my surgeon give me a lifetime 20 pound limit for lifting either arm. There are workarounds, like getting my son to do it to check my oil in exchange for my pulling some weeds in his garden, since very few of those hold that high a deathgrip on the ground with their roots, and there are chemicals for the ones that do. By the time his weed maple trees get that tall in his garden, it first means I've not been pulling his garden weeds for too long, and a clippers and stump killer are needed to do the job. And as it turns out, my extra reward for doing that for him, getting all sweaty and itchy for a few minutes, in addition to his lifting my hood and checking/filling my oil, my exercising my arms, and improving my balance, is another nice shower when I'm back home!
Win, win, win.
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