OK, so here goes this new life experience. First of all, I realize I have to get naked and I'm not even in the shower. I attended Catholic school from the 5th grade upward, and getting naked outside the privacy of the bathtub/shower stall does not come easy. I overcome that hurdle and then I squat in a yoga-like position -I never took yoga classes but I’ve seen photos- over the bowl. I squat facing the wall, but I’m not even sure that this is the correct position. Maybe I should have my back to the wall? How could I possibly know this? As I mentioned in the previous bidet discussion blog there are no written instructions or diagrams anywhere in the bathroom. I guess this is the type of information that people assume is categorized under the "general knowledge" section of the brain. But, it is not in the brain of a girl who grew up in Brooklyn miles and miles away from the nearest bidet.
At 66, my upper thigh muscles are not what they use to be and rather quickly, these underused muscles and loosey-goosey ligaments start quivering. The “old lady", osteopenia joints are not too strong either and before I know it I am starting to waver and sway back and forth. I realize I’m falling further and further into the bowl Holy S_ _ _t! my mind quickly registers that I am going into a place where other unmentionables have gone before me. It is certainly not where I want to be! I decide rather quickly that before I break my hip and end up in some unfamiliar hospital in a foreign country, I best abort this mission. By the way I think I forgot to mention that I had already turned on the faucet at the front- or is it the back- of the bidet. Up until this point the water was free-flowing into the basin and hadn’t even grazed my body. All of a sudden I lose my footing, and my balance, and slid into the bottom of the bidet. In an instant, I'm the recipient of a rather forceful shower; I'm being saturated from the bottom up. My face and upper body is completely soaked. I've also received a rather vigorous nasal irrigation without the aide of a neti pot. I muster the last bit of strength in my legs and finally straighten myself up. Just as I get myself out of the bowl I hear Bob yell to me from the bedroom, " what the hell are you doing in there?" "
"Oh nothing dear, I have it all under control" . There is no way on earth that I want him to see me in this humbling position.
I decide that from now on the customary American shower will work just fine at keeping me fresh and clean. I do however have the satisfaction of knowing that no matter how unsatisfactory this experiment turned out, at least I can say I tried it once. As a dear friend once told me, life is not a dress rehearsal.
Mary Beth
P.S. Who else on our tour tried the bidet and how'd it go for you?
At 66, my upper thigh muscles are not what they use to be and rather quickly, these underused muscles and loosey-goosey ligaments start quivering. The “old lady", osteopenia joints are not too strong either and before I know it I am starting to waver and sway back and forth. I realize I’m falling further and further into the bowl Holy S_ _ _t! my mind quickly registers that I am going into a place where other unmentionables have gone before me. It is certainly not where I want to be! I decide rather quickly that before I break my hip and end up in some unfamiliar hospital in a foreign country, I best abort this mission. By the way I think I forgot to mention that I had already turned on the faucet at the front- or is it the back- of the bidet. Up until this point the water was free-flowing into the basin and hadn’t even grazed my body. All of a sudden I lose my footing, and my balance, and slid into the bottom of the bidet. In an instant, I'm the recipient of a rather forceful shower; I'm being saturated from the bottom up. My face and upper body is completely soaked. I've also received a rather vigorous nasal irrigation without the aide of a neti pot. I muster the last bit of strength in my legs and finally straighten myself up. Just as I get myself out of the bowl I hear Bob yell to me from the bedroom, " what the hell are you doing in there?" "
"Oh nothing dear, I have it all under control" . There is no way on earth that I want him to see me in this humbling position.
I decide that from now on the customary American shower will work just fine at keeping me fresh and clean. I do however have the satisfaction of knowing that no matter how unsatisfactory this experiment turned out, at least I can say I tried it once. As a dear friend once told me, life is not a dress rehearsal.
Mary Beth
P.S. Who else on our tour tried the bidet and how'd it go for you?
