Splish splash I was taking a bath...

Have you ever gotten so accustomed to doing something, something you really love, that you take for granted you will always be able to do that? But then slowly, ever so slightly at first, your ability lessens, you falter, perhaps you do not enjoy it as much, until eventually that function, the capability to perform that task diminishes to the point it is no longer enjoyable or even possible? And you come to the realization your body is now your enemy, it no longer listens to you, but does whatever it wants, whenever it wants, and cares absolutely nothing about etiquette, grace, or even safety. 

No? Well, you are more than likely under 40, and definitely under the age of 30, and you sit there on your nice tight butt with yo ur unwrinkled skin absent  any age spots, raising your pretty eyebrows that still actually require tweezing, and you think to yourself, "How ridiculous! That will never happen to me because I eat all organic, vegan, non-GMO, farm-to-table food on BPA-free plates and I do yoga, cross training, meditation, hiking, biking, and free weights." You go right ahead and believe that. Meanwhile, let me tell you about my love for, no, obsession with, baths, and how that obsession recently led to a shocking discovery.

My very first apartment was on the second floor of a lovely home in Parma, Ohio, and had a bedroom, kitchen, small living area, and a bathroom with a big bathtub--big enough to sleep in. Working full time at a small hospital, taking respiratory therapy classes at a local community college, and getting very little sleep, the best way to relax was a nice hot bath right before bedtime. Worked like a charm; taking a hot bath to destress became almost a nightly ritual. Later on, when I was married and pregnant, a warm bubble bath soothed both me and the little one growing inside me. Fast forward a couple of years and I had toddlers (two of them), and after a long day at work on active duty, followed by laundry, housework, and putting the little ones to bed, my escape of choice? You guessed it...a hot bath. This continued as the kids grew up; they would clamor for my attention and I would escape to the bath, sometimes even locking the door. Then the girls grew up, left home, got married, even had children of their own. 

When I retired and we moved to North Carolina, I found the perfect tub for our log home: a large triangular jacuzzi tub! Sure it took over the majority of the bathroom space, leaving very little room for a shower, but it was my dream tub, like a bath tub and hot tub rolled into one. If I was cold, not feeling well, getting a migraine, sad, or couldn't sleep, you did not have to look far to find me. Then the grandchildren started coming--first one, then two, then three, and finally four granddaughters--each of them eventually taking a bath in Nana's/Grandma's giant tub, and usually more than one child at a time. If there were grandkids at the house, you can bet that tub was in use, complete with toys and wooden spoons and measuring cups and lots of soggy towels and wrinkly toes. And oh the bubbles! Just a little bit of bubble bath or baby shampoo, turn on the jets, and bubbles would be up to the top. I have photos galore.

As the years went by though it became harder for me to climb in and out of the tub, and there were times I needed a little assistance. I practically had to do a "downward dog" move to get up, and hold on to the window ledge and the shower wall to get out; it was not pretty, trust me. Afraid of falling or, worse yet, being doomed to taking only showers for the rest of my life, I bit the bullet and ordered a walk-in tub. The downside to this? Not one store within 100 miles had one I could sit in or try out, so I was ordering blind. I did not want the tall one with the seat, because I love soaking in the tub, and I did not want to take up too much room in our soon-to-be-remodeled bathroom (Alex was finally going to get the shower of HIS dreams), so I did not want one that was too wide either. So I ordered one that was a walk in tub, not too wide, no seat, just a slight elevation in the rear of the tub. The tub came in. Did I think to go sit in it BEFORE we had it installed? No. 

Now, two months after the arrival of the new "easy access/easy exit" bathtub, our bathroom remodel is complete, the shower is beautiful, the old tub is gone (I cried while looking through all the photos of little granddaughters covered in bubbles), and my new tub was ready for use. I opened the tub door, closed it and latched it, closed the drain plug, turned on the water, and went to sit down. Um, nothing really to hold on to so I could lower myself gradually like I was used to, so I had to just sit as gracefully as I could, which turned out to be not graceful at all. It is a wonder I did not crack the tub. Ok, I say to myself, I need to work on that, maybe do more upper body exercises. Meanwhile, I will just lie back and relax in my new tub with some bubbles. 

Twenty minutes later, the water is still nice and hot (a good sign), and I am ready to get out, so I release the drain plug, and wait for the water to drain out (so I can open the door). All the water is out, and I think, hmmm, now what? Those bubbles made the tub pretty slippery, and this tub is too narrow for me to turn around, so how do I stand up? I have no leverage, nothing to grab onto, and I am in the worst sitting position possible, unable to get any use out of my not very useful leg muscles. I mean, I haven't been able to get up off the floor to a standing position for a few years now without some yoga and gymnastic  movements, so how the hell do I get out of a slippery narrow tub?

"ALEX!!! HELP!"

He did, and then I cried and cried and cried. 

Next order of business: find some sort of bath seat to put in the tub that will allow me leverage. 

Moral of the story: Always try on your new bathtub before you install it.