My Arse Crack is Very Clean
Sunday morning bed bath
Early morning, the door to my room opens, unimaginatively identified by a capital letter and a number, F7. A nurse pulled curtains around my bed.
“Good morning; how did you sleep?”
“Is that a serious question,” I ask. She laughed.
“My name is Melody; I will freshen you up before breakfast. Can you clean your teeth?” She asked, laying a moon-crested bowl on my chest with a toothbrush and paste.
“Yes,” I said, sarcastically adding, “both arms appear not to be broken,” I said, not my sunny self.
“I’m going to remove your neck collar this morning,” she told me.
“Why?” I protested. “It’s just gotten comfortable.”
“Dribble, it gets under the collar and can cause chafing,” she answered, stripping the bedclothes from me.
“I don’t dribble.”
“It happens when the patient is sleeping.” She was joking, right?
“Melody, I haven’t slept more than ten minutes for each hour that went by.”
“I’m sorry. It’s for your comfort. We need to get you sitting up.”
“Like I said, my arms aren’t broken; I can do it.”
“No. I’m sorry, Mr. Hogg, you cannot put a strain on your neck. Ro-Jane will be here to help, so please lie still. Together, we’ll get you sat up.”
Fuck, this is time for a bit of jest.
“You’re sure when you take the collar off, my head won’t roll onto the floor, right?”
“If you give me any more trouble, I can promise that is precisely where it will end up. Hold still while I remove your oxygen feed.”
Melody slipped the oxygen tube over my head.
“Once we’ve got you sat up, we will help you into a chair. The doctor is hoping to get you home on Tuesday or Wednesday.”
“He already told me Monday.”
“I’m afraid not; you’ll have a couple of scans on Monday. You broke two bones in your neck and were lucky not to have damaged the spinal cord. If the pins look good, the doctor will decide on your release after seeing them. You’ll be wearing this brace for several weeks,” she said.
The curtains drew back. A giant black nurse was standing there.
“This is Ro-Jane, a student nurse,” Melody said.
I had a sudden feeling of pending doom, not mine, Ro-Jane. She’s going to have a heart attack due to obesity any minute.
“Hi, Ro-Jane,” I said.
“You talk like Prince Charles,” she said.
“Wow,” I said, “you have a London accent.”
“Yep, from Islington, you?”
“Scotland, but Yorkshire till I was eight.”
“I detect a little Scottish brogue but not the Yorkshire.”
Melody interrupted the banter. “Ro-Jane, Mr. Hogg used the bedpan during the night, so we’ll give him a bed bath before we get him sat up. I’ll need your help to turn him over.”
“Turn me over?” I inquired. “You’re going to wash my arse? Oh no, my arms work perfectly well,” I said, pulling the covers back and tucking them under my butt cheeks. “Thank you.”
“There’s no room for shyness on this ward, Mr. Hogg,” Melody said.
“No. I’m refusing a bed bath; you cannot force me.”
“Very well. Ro-Jane, open the curtains,” Melody said in a voice that had detected my ridiculousness. “If Mr. Hogg wants to sit on a shitty bum, there’s nothing we can do to force him otherwise.”
“I spent an hour wiping it if you must know.”
“Mr. Hogg? Either you agree for us to clean you up, or you don’t; what’s it to be?”
I shut my mouth.
“Good. Ro-Jane, take the other side. Mr. Hogg, we are going to roll you on one side. Now, if you bring your right knee up, perfect. Okay, we will roll you onto your left side.”
I feel a gentle push as I’m rolled onto my side. My arse looking at daylight. I close my eyes. Oh God, a warm towel in the crack of my arse!
“There, how bad was that?” Melody asked.
I grunt as I’m gently rolled back. Oh no, antiseptic towels are placed over my sorry-looking dick!
“We’ll let you wash your private parts, Mr. Hogg.”
Really, like my arse is for public attention! I thought.
“Can I have a little privacy, please? I still have a foreskin!”
Both step outside the curtain. I cannot lift my head, but I remember where my genitals were last. Thank God they haven’t shifted.
“Okay, I’m done,” I call out.
Cloths, towels, and pride are all removed from the bedside.
The curtain is opened. Ro-Jane is still alive, blocking all light from the window.
“We’ll get you up and into this chair while we change the sheets,” Melody said. “If you feel okay, you can have breakfast sitting up.”
Great, my jaw opens less than an inch! Still, I can slide some scrambled eggs in, right?
Melody and Ro-Jane get me seated on the bed, my legs dangling over the edge. I’m 5' 7"; whatelse can I do?
“Good, sit there for a few minutes. We don’t want you getting dizzy,” Melody said.
Why not? I’ve only waited all night for something to eat; what’s another few minutes?
“Just stay with him, Ro-Jane; I’ll go get his breakfast.”
Melody leaves the room.
“I’m fine, love,” I said to Ro-Jane, “I can get into the chair no problem,” and slipped my clean arse off the bed to stand up. The dizziness came on quickly, immediately. I could feel myself going, but then I felt these great jaws grab me and stop me from falling. Ro-Jane had me clamped by the shoulders. They were like pneumatic arms around me. I couldn’t move.
“Mr. Hogg, you’ll get me into trouble. I’m going to sit you back down, just bend your knees. I’ve got you.”
Damn right, she’s got me. I feel like I’m clamped in the jaws of death. I weigh 205 lbs, and Ro-Jane holds me like a toy doll.
“There. How do you feel?”
My heading is doing its own Waltz.
“You can’t just stand after being prone for so long, Mr. Hogg.”
“You may have a point, Ro-Jane,” I said, or I think I said.
When Melody returned, Ro-Jane and I had become best friends. She’s been in Missouri for three years and thinks it’s great. Who am I to tell her she’s wrong when she just saved my life from a mauling by Melody?
“Okay, here’s breakfast,” she says, putting the tray down.
“Where’s the toast? I can’t eat scrambled eggs without toast!”
“No chewing, Mr. Hogg. Now, let’s get you into the chair.”
I looked at Ro-Jane, who winked at me.
Look, I’m not a politically correct guy; when I first set eyes on Ro-Jane this morning, my immediate thought was a heart attack! She had to be three hundred pounds of fun and caring. I don’t know if a heart attack is likely because she is so big and then why her choice to become a nurse; well, that is open to debate, but her commitment, care, and bedside manner are as sincere and honest as can be imagined.
It’s hard to know whether she was attracted to my saggy old white arse crack, but if I’m ever about to faint, Ro-Jane’s arms are the ones I want to catch me.
As for Melody, short and scrawny, with a nursing career’s fierceness behind her steel-grey eyes, is the Ward Sister supervising Ro-Jane; I was sure the student would become a wonderful nurse under her scrutiny.
Me? My neck collar is off for an hour. My jaw won’t open more than an inch, and I ate scrambled eggs without toast while sitting on my very clean arse.
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