Sometimes I really hate irony

I’ve been hearing for months now from my physical therapist, my doctors, every book I’ve read on fibro that one of the best things I can do to soothe my aches and pains is get into a hot bath for 20 minutes every night.

And I’ve been bemoaning the fact that there’s no way I can get into a bathtub in this house. We have two tubs – one is your average built-in model, and one in our “master” bathroom (which the previous owners never quite completed). This one is a wonking big Jacuzzi monster that while lovely to lounge in previously, it takes all the hot water in our tank. And, the sides are too high for me to get into safely. So I’ve been confined to showers.

Then, it dawned on me (actually it was my mother’s idea) that I could put a grab bar into the wall in the “small” bathroom, add a padded mat, and that way I could kneel down and twirl about onto my back the way I’ve been taught to get onto the floor.

Sounded logical, right?

So I’ve been hounding Husband for weeks, months about this grab bar. And he’d counter with all these reasons why I didn’t need one. Why couldn’t I just grab onto the wall, this is only a temporary condition, just put a chair next to the tub, etc. My feeling is 1) he didn’t want to put something into the wall that potential buyers wouldn’t like; 2) he didn’t want to look at the thing and have a reminder that his wife isn’t physically perfect; or 3) he just didn’t want to do the work.

I might never get an honest answer to that.

But I bugged him and my mother bugged him and my brother called him and offered to help install it…

And then I did our taxes.

And I reminded him how much money it was saving us and how complicated it all was and how long it took and this would be my payment: a grab bar, a shoulder massage and a nice dinner (I’ve yet to get this dinner).

A week later a grab bar was sitting on the floor of the bathroom.

And there it sat.

“What’s up with the grab bar?” I asked.

“I need a stud finder,” he said.

So that became another project.

And then he found one. And on Friday, a shiny new grab bar was mounted into my bathroom wall.

I couldn’t try it out on Friday because I had acupuncture in the afternoon, and for some reason I’m not supposed to take a bath 12 hours after a treatment (will I soak up too much water?). I don’t know why.

So on Saturday, with my muscles still aching from the demanding physical therapy session I’d had on Tuesday, the trigger point massage I’d had on Thursday, and the two days I went into work, I looked forward to finally, finally, taking a bath.

I thought about it all day. Sinking into the hot water. My muscles relaxing. Getting out and putting on lavender oil, then my penguin pjs (don’t get your hopes up, this isn’t one of those soft-core blogs).

I’d even, when I made my list of positive things in my life (I do this sometimes when I’m feeling down), included “I can take a bath!” as one of the items.

Around eight last night, I let in the water. It had been a long time since I had a bath; I was mostly a shower person, so the drain thingy was a little stuck and I needed Husband to unstuck it. I also asked him to stay and spot me in case I had any problems.

The tub filled and I stepped in. Grabbed my shiny new grab bar. Knelt into the water.

The temperature was perfect. And then, as I was starting my “drop and roll,” I realized that the tub was a little small for that maneuver. But I did the best I could and twizzled around onto my back.

“What’s that?” Husband said, glaring at the drain.

I heard the noise too. The water was draining out. And he started fretting, and jiggling the drain lever (no, that wasn’t a double entendre; you should be ashamed of yourself) and I told him to cut it out, we’d just go to the hardware store and get one of those stoppers, don’t worry.

But my bath water was rapidly disappearing. And then I realized that I had no back support. I could either put my legs in the water or my back, and either way, my muscles didn’t like it. And now with the water down about five inches, I figured I should just try to get out and shower instead. And maybe I tightened up too much or was just kind of tense about the whole thing, but I felt a whole lot of things pull.

And I spent today doing Commando Physical Therapy – walk ten minutes, stretch, ice; repeat every 2-3 hours, so I’d stand a better chance of being good to go for work on Monday.

And I crossed “I can take a bath!” right off my list.

For now.