Traumatic Tales

(Warning: this post is about wiping elderly butts. It's not for the feint hearted.)

This morning, for the second time this year, I found myself doing something highly traumatic, and inconceivable to me a year ago.

I stood, one hand lifting Aunt-Ada off the toilet, the other hand using a wet-wipe to wipe her ass.

The first time it happened, I’m ashamed to tell you, I completely freaked out. Her nurse, Jean went to the store, and I stayed in the apartment with Ada, watching a US soap, packed with Aussie exports, called “The Guiding Light.”

Suddenly Ada was fiddling with her cane.

“I need to pee!” she yelled. Oh dear, I thought. Usually, her nurse takes her to the bathroom, and I remain purposefully ignorant of what goes on. That day, was going to change everything.

I helped Ada to the bathroom, lifting her nightie for her as she sat. My body stiffened, when I heard number twos…

No no no no… please don’t do that, I thought… but it was too late. In that moment, I panicked. I didn’t want to think about what I might have to do next. I was in serious denial. All I wanted to do was call the nurse to come back from the store immediately. Have I no maternal instinct what so ever?

Selfishly I hummed and haaaawed about my next move. Then I sucked it up, ran to the living room for wet wipes, and did the unthinkable.

The thought of wiping the elderly’s ass is always more horrifying than when you actually have to do it. It’s more a battle of the wills than anything else. You have to un-paralyse your body and get it out of denial of what’s about to take place. You have to pretend it’s what you were borne to do, to put the person at ease, and you have to hope that by the grace of god, you don’t accidentally wipe your eye straight after.

Once you’ve over come it, it’s not that bad. It’s life. Life is messy! And it would be boring if it wasn’t.

Thankfully, nature has a way of helping us out in our old age. Mark my words, one day our butt holes will hang out our butt cheeks, like a loose, floppy vagina. ☺

The experience is always rather humiliating for Ada. Both times, she wept in self pity and embarrassment. (Although she does that about everything. That's the kind of person she is.)

Never the less, this is a timely reminder of how short life is. I hope by the time we get old, robots will be doing all this for us, or perhaps we will have evolved to no longer need to poo.

That would be fabulous indeed!

And, here's something funny to watch - for those of you who remember speaking Pig Latin in primary school, and also to change the subject!