Take a bath.
I want to take a bath. To lie down in the tub and feel the warm water encircle me, soothing and caressing my body. I know that is not very “manly” to do, but I miss it so.
For many years I stood under the strong flow of a shower, the warm water streaming down upon me, rinsing the soap, the sleep, and many memories away. An invigorating flow that I often said nearly knocked me down.
The only baths I took were when my muscles ached for one reason or another. But now I wish to take one for the sheer enjoyment of it, to lay there surrounded by the very essence of life itself. To make a bubble and hold it, examine it, to see it like a small globe, looking through its transparent walls, seeing a micro version of life itself till it bursts and disappears.
When I was I the hospital, there was another patient who had a stroke like mine. But hers was different from mine. Instead of her right arm just hanging like some unbearable weight, her arm was frozen across her chest, unable to be lowered or outstretched. So I guess I’m lucky.
But being unable to use my right arm or right leg for balance or stability, I fear that just lying in the tub could be a mistake. I could become trapped and watch my body wrinkle up like a raisin.
One of these days I’m going to take that risk, and take that bath. So help me!
I’ll let you know how it turns out . . . Or you might find me in a granola bar.