Tag: Roll A Lotion

Bathtub Follies; Accompaniment by Adele

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.

The Roll A Lotion, not 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.

  
So I reached behind me and got a powerful stream of water flowing from the faucet. Then I reached in front of me to raise the diverter so water would flow from the shower head.

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.

http://youtu.be/rYEDA3JcQqw

Peace, people.

Relief

Last night I posted the following post on my Facebook page:

  
A few people responded directly, but no one took me seriously. My friends know I have nowhere near a gazillion dollars. Right at this moment I barely have twenty dollars, and that has to last me all week. 

The interesting thing that occurred following that post was the number of rather lascivious offers I received on my private message board. So many that I ended up deleting that app from my phone. Who knew that my itchy back could inspire so many perverted responses? 

Back to my back. I cannot tell you just how agonizingly itchy it is. Apparently one of the side effects of withdrawing from the antidepressant Effexor is itchy skin–along with vivid nightmares and brain zaps. There isn’t much I can do about the last two, but I can put lotion on the offending body parts. At least the ones within reach.

Studly Doright was out of town last night, and he’s my go to lotion application expert. Without him I was reduced to all sorts of physical contortions that still left my back untreated. One of my Facebook friends (not a creep) suggested that I do the following:

” get a very thin dishtowel, lots of lotion. roll up the towel, lotion top to bottom, hold it as if you want to dry your back, like this / right top to bottom left, lotion side toward your back, and rub up and down. reapply lotion, switch hands, repeat.”

What a great plan, I thought. But what if I went a step further and got an old white tshirt, one of Studly’s of course, and squirted lotion all over the inside? Then I could just put the tshirt on and voilà, lotion would magically be applied to my back!

This was not a terrible idea; although, I did end up with copious amounts of lotion in my hair. The important thing, though,  was that my back was thoroughly moisturized and for a wonderfully, blessed time wasn’t driving me ape sh*t crazy. 

In retrospect I should’ve used a button down shirt which would’ve prevented the whole lotion in the hair scenario. I’m now thinking of designing and patenting the exciting new MOISTURE SHIRT! Available where fine personal care items are sold.

Today I took a proactive stance. That’s something I seldom do, so applause might be in order. I’ll wait while you give me a standing O…. I purchased a product that should make applying lotion much simpler:

  

I gave it a trial run this evening, even though Studly is home. Honestly, this lotion applicator might be my new best friend. It worked exactly as advertised and doesn’t need any laundry done or dinners cooked. If it knows how to change a tire I might not need Studly at all. 

Peace, people!