Adapting

I shower sitting down. it was a huge effort getting up the stairs, and the shower basin is slippery.

It’s hard to hold the shower head above my head, and so once my hair is washed I let it rest against my shoulder, the water cascading down over my back. I run the water over my legs, when I can, to feel the warmth in them too.

I have to cross my legs to fit in the shower basin, awkwardly twisting to wash my body, sometimes having to lay the shower head down so that I can lean on one hand while I wash with the other. It is hard work, and I rest frequently.

I left the door unlocked. I can’t get out on my own. I tried, last time, awkwardly hurling myself over the lip of the shower my bum slipping as I tried to grip the edges and find solid ground. It was difficult and I nearly fell.

I get my partner to haul me out this time, unsteady on my feet, wobbling but safe. he wraps the towel around me and I make my way back to the stairs. Facing them again I sit down, allowing my body to slide from one step to the next, the towel rucking up underneath me. My legs ache as I kick them out again and again, bumping downwards until I reach the bottom, haul myself up and make my way to the dining room where my parents have laid a mattress for me on the floor.

It’s good to feel clean again.

It’s been four days.