Prescription for Disaster

Sunday, 26 October 2014

Some of my disabilities may be self-inflicted

We have been having some issues with one of the twins in the loo-department. The poor kid just hates to go, and will hold it so long that her innards will suddenly force their way out, resulting in us now shopping for children's underwear at Costco as the aftermath is a hazmat experience not worth trying to salvage.

We've tried everything. We read books with her about pooping. We made a big deal about how fun it was. We gave her laxatives (omg. Never, ever again. Ever.). So now we're on this kick of toilet-yoga and ensuring that the bathroom is a calm, relaxed place in which she can chill out and take her time.

So we told her to go into the loo, take her time and just relax in there - bring the iPad.

"Really? I can bring the iPad in there?"

"Sure you can. Just don't drop it in."

She was still a bit dubious, so we started 'modeling'. Apparently this is some sort of intentional parenting technique that trumps common sense (really?) in which you just do the things that you want your kids to do. Alriiiiiiight.... fine. Okay.

So on a recent trip to the loo I was sure to announce loudly to the family that I was going to the loo, I was going to relax and take my time and I was going to bring the iPad with me, as weird as announcing that felt. It doesn't matter, I was intentionally parenting.

I'm probably going to get a medal for this at some point, surely. 

Now, I'm normally a stickler for what is in our bathroom. Bathrooms in Britain are very different from North American bathrooms - not all are like ours but this is the THIRD house we've lived in here with a bathroom that is divided like this.

One room houses the toilet, while another, much nicer room, holds the sink, bathtub, shower, cabinets, mirrors, shelves, window, etc. You know... a proper bathroom.

Forgive Lochie's expression, she was rather 'put off' by the last person that had used it when this picture was taken. But this is our bathroom.

As our 'toilet closet' is so ridiculously small I don't like having reading material left in there, because I would essentially need to be either resting my feet on it or holding it in my lap throughout what should be a quick experience. But, I'm 'modeling' for the twins, so brought the iPad in there with me. 

Well, while I'm in here I may as well play a level in my game. And then another one. Maybe one more. Okay, this is definitely the last one.

By the time I'd realized how long I'd been in there and I put the iPad down and to the side, I also noticed that my legs felt a bit... funny. My feet were extremely cold and... an- and I couldn't feel them. Oh my God, no. No no no no no. My thighs were bright red and tingly, and I felt nothing at all from the waist down. 

Oh no. No no no no no. I had dead leg in BOTH legs.

This was NOT good. 

Okay. Okay. I had to get up. I couldn't sit here forever, I had things to do and the only way to get rid of dead-leg was to move it around and walk it off, right? 

I started massaging my legs. It didn't seem to matter as I still couldn't feel anything in them. I chastised myself, this was all probably just in my head. If I just tell my body to stand up it will, just as it has done countless times before. I'll just do that. 

^^^That did not happen. The only thing that happened was this:

Alright. Enough of this, I had to get out of there. I just needed to stand up, finish the task at hand and walk out of here like a normal person - no big deal. 

I couldn't feel my feet but I planted them evenly on the floor. I gripped the wall on either side with my hands. I was going to just stand up using the wall for help. 

The first attempt resulted in a small bang and crash as I stood for a second, then careened back toward the loo, missing it completely and tearing the toilet roll holder off the wall. 

"Hun? Are you okay?" Came from downstairs. "I'm fine! Be right down!"

Okay- the situation was urgent now - I couldn't have him come up and find me like this. I just had to get out of here. 

The second attempt was partially successful. I counted to three and then heaved myself up off the loo and forward, my knees locked tight and standing fully erect on what I as hoping were my feet flat on the floor. I could have broken one just then and I still wouldn't have felt a thing. I fell forward and supported my weight with my face mashed against the door - another bang and loud assurances that I was fine. At least I was able to finish up and pull up my pants - at the very least I was now fully dressed.

I pushed away from the door and sat back onto the toilet seat, staring at the door and wondering if I would ever again see the light of day. This was impossible, I had visions of crawling out of the loo like a crab -


 to lie in the hall, defeated and shamed until feeling was restored in m useless legs.

Okay. OKAY. ENOUGH. I had to get out of here! I opened the door of the teeny toilet room - picking up each dead-leg in turn with both hands to move them out of the way of the door. I was so close. I was dressed, the door was open. The hall was RIGHT THERE. I just had to stand up. I did some quick leg exercises, swinging my knees to try to get some blood flow going. This triggered pins and needles - tickling me to the point that I cried out and laughed like a hyena, cackling madly from within the toilet-room. More shouts of "Are you SURE you are okay?" and i could barely answer through my laughing tears, let alone the sound of my legs slamming against the floor and walls.

OKAY. I was ready. I was limber. I was totally going to do this.

I was totally going to bust an ankle.

Alright, one more determined count to three, gripped the walls, feet flat on the floor (I think) and one and to and three and UP and I was standing! I was white-knuckling the door-frame with both hands and panting from the ordeal. But I was up! I was free! 

And then I took a step forward into the hallway.

Ah crap. this wasn't going to be over any time soon.

When I finally escaped the upstairs hallway and back to my family I had tears of determination and involuntary laughter pouring down my face as I approached them like this:

I handed the twins back the iPad and said "See? No big deal!"

But after the wild commotion upstairs and my bathroom-emergence drunk-walk I don't think they believed me.

I may have actually made it worse.

Well, back to Costco.

No comments:

Post a Comment