This morning started out rather well. Lewy was sleeping late and a gentle snow fall was covering the yard in white. A perfect Southern snowfall. White ground, clear roads. I got up made my coffee, took the dogs out for their morning stroll. This was indeed a glorious morning. Normally before I wake up Lewy starts hollering for me. PAULINE! PAULINE!
There is no concept in Lewy’s head, of waiting for someone to wake up on their own, or go pee, or make coffee, or walk the dogs before you have to go attend to him. Everything is NOW! NOW! NOW!
But this morning, I had my coffee, I thought what a pleasant day, I think I’ll work on a crossword puzzle before 8 AM when I should start doing my office work.
There is always a price. Some how some way you always have to pay up.
Lewy started hollering from his recliner, I GOTTA GET OUT OF THIS THING! COME UNSTRAP ME!
That meant that Lewy was now awake and ready to get up. He thinks he’s strapped into the recliner. So I go in and flip the lever for him and raise the chair back up to sitting rather reclining position. I then turned away from Lewy to walk into the next room to get his walker.
“HEY! DON’T GO AWAY!!! I NEED TO GET UP!”
“OK, OK, I’m coming…”
Again it’s the same routine, Lewy does not recall the mechanics of standing up, and so I have to coach him through it. Lewy gets up, gets his “marbles” as he calls them, and with the help of the walker goes to the bathroom to unload.
Several minutes pass. Then Lewy yells; “HEY COME HERE!” So I get up and go into the bathroom. OMG! The stench! I had to back out gasp for air, run back in turn on the fan, and run back out to gasp again. Lewy was standing in front of the toilet with his pants down around his ankles. “Are you through?...It sure smells like you are.”
“No, no I’m not through, there are still several chunks in there YOU need to get out.”
“No, you need to sit back down and finish.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“Because I won’t be able to get up.”
“You just did get up. You will be able to get up again.”
“No, I never did sit down.”…………………………
Oh no, no, not that……………………………………………………………It was then I noticed that there were 2 inch wide thick streaks of…..lets call it chocolate….I don’t like chocolate anyway….but it looked exactly like soft fudge smeared all down his legs.
“Daddy, PLEASE, sit down, PLEASE. Finish your business sitting on the toilet, PLEASE.”
“I can’t do that”
“Why not?” It’s always pointless to try to have logic or reasoning involved in any discussion with Lewy, but there I am asking the question. “Why can’t you sit on the toilet?” ….
“Because I’ve never done it that way before!”……
At this point there is nothing to do but clean him up. I asked if he had wiped his butt, and he assured me that he had. I took the scissors over and cut his diapers off of him. When I pulled them out the “chocolate” was smeared all over the back, the sides, the front…he had no doubt crapped his pants during the night.
Then I had him toddle over to the sink and I had to coax him into raising one foot at a time so I could get his pants off from around his ankles. Now at this point, I have my face basically under Lewy’s bare ass, with shit all down his legs, and all over his ass. This is a very narrow bathroom. I finally got the pants free from around his feet, and lifted them up to carry off to the laundry.
Two turds fell out. OMG! And there was more in the pants. I could tell they weighed more than they should, even wet.
I got Daddy washed down, got the shit off his legs and butt. I asked him again if he had wiped.
“YES YES YES I WIPED MY ASS!”
So I got out the butt grease the nurse told me about and I greased him up. “Now, let’s go get dressed.”
The routine is Lewy goes to his bed, sits down and I slip his diapers on him. Only this morning when I helped Daddy stand up to pull up his diaper, there was now shit all over the side of the bed! Why the hell did I believe him when he insisted he had wiped? Hell, what would anyone who’s never sat down to shit in their life know about wiping?
I went and got the wash rag, bent over, and parted the cheeks. Can’t say that I’ve ever seen the anal opening so up close and personal. There was shit, lots of shit. Three cycles of hot soapy washcloth wipes, rinses and rewipes, and….I’m not sure….what color is a butt hole supposed to be?.....It ain’t exactly pink…
No matter!
By the power vested in me as the designated butt wiper, I hereby declare this butt clean!
“Now, how ‘bout some breakfast?”