I took an ADA shower today. I haven’t talked about it much, but I’ve been scared to take a shower for a while. In an attempt to make it easier on myself, I’ve tried to figure out why. The hope was that if I could figure out why, I could work on not being scared of it.
My theories are 1.) I am afraid of falling*, and 2.) I’m put off by the sensory overload. The water hurts, the room is cold and loud, and for 12-24 hours post-shower I have shivers and extreme body temp dysregulation. Like I’m in shock.
The reasons I don’t think the muscle spasms and paralysis that make me unsteady are tumor-related are: MRIs show my tumor is unchanged, and I can move more fluidly in the mornings after I wake up. But the improvement only lasts until I’m fully awake.
(I’ve tried Xanax and weed, they make me weaker and dizzier.)
Working with my anxiety has made things better, but almost imperceptibly so. It doesn’t help that I feel like this is all my fault. See, I thought I knew what I wanted when the bathroom was finished, and my brother specified an ADA-compliant fixture that fit my request exactly.
But it doesn’t work for me anymore, and we’ve only been here about two years. I wanted something that would accommodate me if I needed a wheelchair. And, I don’t know, maybe I need one, but I don’t use one in the house. So getting in and out of the shower is terrifying, even with grab bars.
Anxious Me wonders if I was planning too far ahead again, by thinking I needed this shower. Dan hates it, and understandably so, but his stress adds to my own self-loathing, I cringe and tense just hearing the water turned on now.
Mom would let me bathe upstairs in a heartbeat, but I don’t think it’ll do my mental health any good to list the reasons why even with one of those swivel chairs, her fixtures are a physical impossibility in my current state.
I daydream sometimes about getting one of those walk-in tubs, but I don’t have money. And the contractor basically told us back in the day the current shower wasn’t coming out in one piece. (Not maliciously; it came up in conversation.)
So in addition to not having the money, I’d feel guilty about having to destroy the very expensive existing one (which I fundraised for) to install a different model.
Plus, I can’t help but wonder if I’m still just clueless about what I need. Nothing like having a second ADA fixture put in only to realize that’s not helping me either.
I make do with bath cloths and spread out the showers until I feel disgusted with myself, but I don’t think that’s helping me relax.
I dunno. I’m not expecting someone to trundle a long with a solution. I just wanted to write about what’s on my mind.
* It’s been a while since I’ve fallen, but my anxiety is convinced that’s because I only get out of bed when I need to and don’t risk anything otherwise. Some of the falls I have taken were severely traumatic.