A Normal Monday Morning

It's just another normal Monday, or at least close to normal. The only break from my Monday routine so far has been that my Home Care Aide arrived about 90 minutes late. Apparently she had an earlier client who needed additional time and care. Given my situation, I can completely understand how it might happen, that a person in need of care might need some extra time or attention. It happens to me too.

The rest of the day so far has gone according to expectation. A beautiful young woman has come into my apartment to get me out of bed. She has helped me into the bathroom, helped me get undressed, helped me with my shower. She stepped into the shower stall to put a towel at my feet, transferring them so that they could dry as well as feel steady on the floor. She dried my legs and asked if I needed help with drying my private areas. I declined; I can still do this part.

Then she took me in my wheelchair and helped my back onto my bed, whereupon she put cream and powder on my toes, and then on the aforementioned private areas. This is all business; she did not comment on the quality of my manhood. Fortunately she didn't laugh at it either. She just did what needed to be done, then moved on.

I can still dress myself, although on occasion I need a bit of help with the final adjustment of my jeans. I just can't seem to get them all the way up, or straight in the front. After I did my mediocre job, my HCA grabbed the front and twisted them into position, then rolled me over and adjusted the back as well.

Dressing complete, she came onto the bed and exercised the hell out of my legs, leaving me completely exhausted in the effort. It comes as some consolation to me that she works as hard as I do in these exercises, sometimes harder. She sweats, I sweat. By the time she is done, so am I. A few minutes later, after a brief rest, she helps me into my wheelchair. My day officially begins. She leaves me. This is an ordinary Monday morning. A different woman will do this on Wednesday and Friday.

It doesn't surprise me in the least that Katherine expresses no jealousy about this process whatsoever. It's all business. These women do a great job of caring for me. Then they move on to the next client. I cannot begin to guess how many men, and women, they have seen in various states of undress. It's all just part of the game, or business. I just wish I wasn't a part of it all.