|Posted by firstname.lastname@example.org on July 12, 2020 at 11:30 PM|
His legs are so puffy and swollen. And he is still delicate around the middle- bruising from blood thinners, tender from eating, cancer, chemo, the whole lot.
We saran-wrap his arms for a shower (both of them- to protect his PICC and sub-Q lines- we are down to three!) I sit on the edge of the tub to help scrub his legs and feet. Before he can protest, I sneak in the citrus-sea-salt scrub. But he's wise to me. 'Don't use that oily garbage on me. It will just make me slip and slide'.
I protest, but he wins.
The hardest thing ever is to wash one foot and not be allowed to 'just even it out'. It's not in my nature and I'm so dismayed that one leg is exfoliated, moisturized and well loved. And the other sad leg has been utility-cleaned with bar soap.
It's not fair. I will lose sleep over this. Poor lefty.