Several days ago I wrote about my itchy skin issues. Sadly, I’ve always been cursed with dry skin, but my withdrawal from the antidepressant Effexor has exacerbated the itchiness to the point where I just want to immerse myself in a large tub of lotion until all of the unpleasant side effects have abated.
Unfortunately, that scenario is neither logical nor feasible, so I find myself using various door frames and large pieces of furniture as scratching posts. I did purchase the Roll a Lotion product which works well in the absence of my preferred lotion applicator, namely Studly Doright.
A WordPress friend suggested bathing in a solution of bicarbonate of soda, but I didn’t have any on hand. Her suggestion, though, reminded me that my mom used to use a product with oatmeal in it to help reduce my itchiness. Heck, I had oatmeal right in my cabinet!
I filled our ridiculously oversized whirlpool tub (honestly, we could almost practice synchronized swimming routines or play water polo matches in the darned thing) with water and oatmeal. Then I climbed in and just relaxed.
The bath felt delicious. I soaked for 20 minutes while singing along with Adele. Hello! She had me believing we really could have had it all whilst rolling in the deep.
Once the water became lukewarm I began the process of getting out of the tub. This is always an ordeal. You see, I’ve grown rather bottom heavy over the years while my arm strength hasn’t increased enough to compensate for the extra weight.
This night was no different. After pulling the plug, I scootched my legs up under me as much as possible for leverage and then heaved myself to a standing position. Only to realize I was covered in clumps of oatmeal.
“Well, crap!” I said aloud. In retrospect I should’ve said, “Well, oatmeal,” but that didn’t occur to me at the time.
I squatted as much as my old legs would allow in order to splash water onto the clumpy parts and then remembered that the tub had a shower head! A solution was at hand.
Of course the shower head is on the opposite end of the tub from the regular spout, and one must turn on the water from yet another side of the tub.
Unlike what is shown in my picture above, the damned shower head wasn’t aimed so water would enter the tub. Oh no. It was aimed directly at the back edge of the tub surround, and the water pressure sent water spraying in all directions. Of course I instinctively, and irrationally, ducked, losing my footing in the process and sitting down hard. I yelled at Adele to shut the hell up. She ignored me.
I cried briefly and then got down to the business of rinsing my body free of oatmeal. The shower head, properly corralled, did a fine job of rinsing the oatmeal out of every nook and cranny. Soon I was squeaky clean. The tub, though, was not. The remainder of my evening was spent cleaning it out.
When all was said and done the tub sparkled, I was exhausted, bruised, and yes, still itchy. And Adele? Well, she just kept on singing.