Meeting Richard

The Home Care Agency has been having trouble finding someone to replace Olga on Fridays. After three weeks of a temporary fill-in, today they sent someone who might be my regular Friday HCA. She's very young, only 20 years old, but already she's seen more naked men than a Chippendales Quality Control clerk. She came in fully prepared, not knowing quite what to expect.

It's really quite brave of her, only 20 years old, moving from Red Deer to Calgary and taking up this very personal and demanding kind of work. She seems quite competent, if a bit slow off the mark. On the other hand, caring for me is not an easy task, or series of tasks. She was almost certainly moving slowly to make sure she got everything on my care plan. Even so, she missed a few things. Nothing serious. Just a few things for me to tidy up.

I can't really blame her for wanting to get out quickly, or at least on time. Her introduction to me was not up to my usual standard. It mostly had to do with toileting. I ate a handful of prunes before bed last night. They did their usual magic. This morning I was up and in action, bathroom action that is, very quickly. There was an urgency about my routine, a forced time horizon.

I rolled over the toilet and allowed my body to do its thing. The trouble is, prunes are soft and squishy, and so is their inevitable outcome. Add to that my inability to gather sufficient muscle strength from my core and you have a "wait and see" situation. Thanks to the loss of muscle response in my rear end, I cannot tell for sure when the job is done, especially in a situation like this morning. So I guess. Then I clean myself as best I can. Then I roll forward.

At that moment, just after clearing the toilet, my colon decided it was not quite yet done. I, or rather my rear end, marked a pathway to the shower. Once in the shower, I cleaned up again. Once again my colon took that as a signal for further discharge. I hosed off the shower floor as best I could, then had to ask my brand new HCA if she wouldn't mind wiping my poop off the bathroom floor. She didn't actually notice the inside of the shower, a job for me perhaps.

After seemingly cleaning myself up, we transferred this limp hulk I call my body over to my bed. Fortunately I always put a towel underneath my landing zone, just for days like this. I was not as clean as I thought; I stained the towel. My young, pretty, vivacious 20 year old HCA rolled me over, and had to wipe my ass. I can't even make a joke about having a nice ass; it's flabby, flacid and fat.

I wonder if she will return next Friday, after such a sauve first meeting.