Shower [Adventure]

[Adventure 15]

Some days my biggest adventure is taking a shower. 

Taking a shower is an adventure, you ask? Absolutely!

Taking a shower when you live with chronic physical and mental illness isn't a simple procedure.

First you have to plan ahead to take a shower. You have to psych yourself up for it. You may need to even incentivize the showering or post-showering experience.

I need to feel well enough to take a shower, both physically and mentally. I need to set aside enough time to not feel rushed, make sure the shower speaker is charged, shower when there is someone home in case I have a physical issue during or after the shower, and I need to remember to have my cell phone with me in the bathroom in case of emergency. 

I also find it helpful to announce to someone that I'm going to take a shower. Then it seems official, and I may actually follow through. Sometimes I even announce a time. Then the pressure is really on. 

Ambience is important. Sometimes I light candles. I usually have a body wash or soap that entices me with its' magnificent fragrance. I spend time choosing just the right music or podcast for in-shower entertainment. 

I also make sure I'm well set-up for the shower. I check the body wash/soap, shampoo and conditioner levels. I place a towel and washcloth in their places. I poll the members of the household to see if use of our one and only bathroom is needed before I begin my hopefully uninterrupted bathing experience. I choose the clothing - or pajamas - I'll be wearing post-shower and put them in their place. I get out lotion, deodorant, and anything else I need to apply to my skin post-shower. 

After obtaining the proper water temperature, I enter the shower. Then, one of two things happens - I relish the relaxing feel of the warm water on my neck and shoulders, or I cringe at the pain of water hitting my skin. I either luxuriate in the scents and textures of my bath products as I take my time using them or I do my best to get myself clean as quickly as possible. Eyeing my razor, I contemplate the state of my legs and determine the need or want to shave them. Usually I choose not to. In warmer months, wearing shorts that show off my tattoos, I usually relent and shave - sometimes only one leg per shower, and only up to the knee. It just isn't worth my energy or effort to do more.

Once out of the shower, I often sit and rest, slowly drying myself, applying products, and getting dressed...exhausted. Rarely am I rejuvenated or invigorated or relaxed by a shower. More often, I'm in pain and need to rest.

Occasionally more exciting things happen. I've dislocated a shoulder trying to fix the showerhead. I've fallen out of the tub and dislocated a hip and I've fallen out of the tub and popped a hip back in. I once sat down on the bathroom floor to avoid passing out after a shower and took a short nap before a child knocked on the bathroom door demanding access. And there was the one time I was enjoying my shower so much a podcast about strange childhood stories ended and a podcast discussing strange sexual stories that was the next podcast on the channel autoplayed, broadcasting loudly over the shower speaker for all to hear. I nearly fell out of the shower trying to get to my phone to stop it while trying to figure out if any of my "extra" kids were in the house or if I was merely corrupting my own children.