I have thought about
whether it’s entirely fair to Fred (see below) to blog about this, and I have
my doubts, but really, I find that I cannot let it go unrecorded. I mean, what
is a blog for,anyway? There is a funny side to it and I can see that now. But when
I heard about it first, it left me feeling stressed, angry and anxious. Bear
with me in my attempt to maintain a fiction of pretence. “Names have been
changed."
It all began as a
certain person living with MND (let’s call him Rodney) and one of his personal
assistants (let’s call him Fred) prepared for the daily shower. Fred felt the
unmistakable signs of an imminent bowel movement and he alerted Rodney to the
possibility that the shower might have to be postponed as he answered nature’s
call. However, the urgency of the sensations appeared to fade and so he told
Rodney it was safe to proceed with the shower. This was a mistake. Having settled Rodney on the shower seat in the wet
room and begun the process of washing Rodney’s hair, Fred’s bowels once more
called for attention. This time they could not be ignored. Rodney suggested
that Fred use the upstairs toilet, for obvious reasons, and Fred concurred. Now,
I have often observed that when necessity demands, many people prefer the
privacy of their own bathrooms, and clearly Fred belongs to this group of the
population. Earlier, he had mentioned his intention to use the toilet at home,
as Fred lives only a few doors away from Rodney’s house, but Rodney had
objected to this, insisting that he use the toilet upstairs and not leave the
house. Now, in the wet room, as Fred
informed Rodney of his urgent request, Rodney once more told Fred expressly to
go upstairs and not to go home. Fred agreed. “Ten minutes,” he promised and
left the room. Moments later, Rodney, sitting naked on the shower seat in the
wet room, heard the front door slam and his heart sank. Fred had locked himself
out of the house. Rodney was trapped on the shower seat, wet and dripping. Now, we know that Fred has a short term memory problem, but this is ridiculous. It
is a few short steps from the door of the wet room to the bottom of the stairs
in Rodney’s house but in the length of time it took for Fred to traverse this
space, he forgot that he was to go upstairs. After a time, Fred returned to the
house and soon realised what a stupid thing he had done. They conversed through
the window of the wet room. Happily, Rodney made no attempts to stand up alone.
It was 8.30am on a Wednesday and he figured he only had an hour to wait until the
cleaner arrived. And so it proved. As usual, on the dot of 9.30am, the cleaner
arrived and let Fred back into the house. Rodney had carefully arranged a
selection of shampoos and shower gels on the shower seat to preserve his
modesty, just in case she was standing with Fred when he opened the door. But
there was no necessity for this precaution. In Rodney's own words, "Disaster had been averted".
Poor Roch, it did make me laugh at first but then thought how awful. Some days it is hard to find the humour in all of this but then if you don't, then what.
ReplyDelete