Tuesday, 8 September 2015

It's 4:45 AM. Time For A Haircut

I had an event last night, a messy event, the kind I will only describe in euphemism. It all started when I woke up at 4:25 AM and realized I had to go pee. I have learned a new method for going pee at night, one which does not require what is now the difficult task of sitting up. It's different than my old method of going pee laying down, where I lay on my back. Now I roll to my side and pee, meaning I can see the jug and adjust myself as needed. It's much less prone to accident.

I woke up feeling the urge, so I grabbed my jug from the dresser where I keep it along with a full set of cleaning supplies should there be a problem. I undid the lid and put it gently beside me. This is where the fun all began. The lid, seeming to develop kinetic powers, leapt off the bed and skittered its way across the bedroom floor, rather like a large white puck on a skating surface of laminate. Instead of panic, I relaxed, went pee, and safely put the jug on the dresser. Then I used the trappings from my sling to flip out and slide the puck, or rather, the lid, back to me. It was a bit of hockey in the middle of the night.

At that point, however, I realized that I would have to sit up in order to bend down and pick up the lid. Notwithstanding the significant effort involved, I sat up, then using the M-Rail as a brace I leaned over and picked up the jug lid. This is where my natural anatomical processes kick in. When I wake up every morning, I sit up, transfer to my wheelchair, and go to my toilet. My body knows this routine. Unfortunately it doesn't know that 4:30 AM is not the time for this routine. I had slept, I was awake, I was moving about. Something else had to move with me. That's it.

I spoke to my lower bowel rather intensely, pointing out that it was still the middle of the night. I thought I had convinced it to go back to sleep, so I set about doing the same. That's when it hit me, or at least that's when my body hit back, letting me know that there was no way in hell it would put up with this spurious interruption. It said "I don't care what time it is. You woke me up, and now I am going to do the same for you."

As you might guess, urgency in my situation is not something I can respond with. I did my best, managing to sit up halfway before action began. I managed to forestall further action, but I was a mobile mess by this time. I continued moving, all of me. There was nothing else I could do. By the time I transferred to my wheelchair, there was a substantial stain on my bed. By the time I transferred to the toilet, there was a smaller stain on my wheelchair cushion. As to my underwear, I am sure you can guess what they looked like. Nothing is easy, nothing is fast.

I sat on the toilet, finishing what had already begun. Then I took an extended amount of time to attempt a thorough cleaning of my nether regions. It was not a fun task. Nonetheless, having finished the best I could, I said to Katherine that I could either have a quick shower, or we could put a towel on the bed and I could look after things in the morning. She said "Shower".

Then, at 4:45 AM, while I was sitting in the bathroom wondering about the oddness of my life, she said something even more shocking. She said "I cut your hair". It's important to understand that this was not a simple suggestion, nor a request, nor even something for discussion. This was a statement of fact; Katherine had decided that my hair was too long, that it needed cutting before I had my shower. There was no argument or agreement involved. I was getting a haircut.

As she started the clippers, I said to her, "Who is more crazy? Me, or you?" "You", she said back in rapid reply. So I sat there as she did her work. Then I got my shower. While I was showering she changed the linens on the bed and cleaned my wheelchair cushion. By 5:20 AM we were back in bed, my body cleaned and clipped, her sensibilities intact.

That's what I did last night. How about you?

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