Showering ain't what it used to be ...

Having one's legs wrapped up like a mummy makes the most mundane of exercises and chores into epics and before the operation nobody bothers to mention these minor difficulties to one. Getting clean has taken on new meaning to me of late. Mostly due to Carons insistent nagging I succumbed to the lure of the shower on Thursday evening silencing the small voice in the back of my head that this was a bad idea. The bandaging on the outside is just elastoplast but on the inside there is a woolen bandage before the actual dressing and none of them are waterproof, in fact the woolen bandage is particularly good at absorbing water. Knowing this, we thought that wrapping the bandages in cling-wrap with a plastic bag over my foot would keep the water at bay. Good idea in theory, not quite so good in practice so about a minute into my shower I could feel myself starting to squelch around in my plastic bag so my pleasant shower was cut very short. Even then once the plastic wrapping had been removed parts of the bandages were damp or in same places thoroughly soaked. Thoughts of smelling like a wet dog for the next week went through my head so I spent the next two hours next to the gas heater turning myself over like a rotisserie trying to dry the bandaging out. Small soggy areas were dealt with using a hair dryer while I recovered my sense of humour - lost during the rotisserie experience. As things turned out I don't smell like a wet dog - I think. At least nobody has passed any comments yet.