With the understanding that as a woman, one will inevitably face a monthly cycle, I've contemplated over blogging about this topic for several years, thinking of the most discrete methods of discussion, ultimately with the hope that other women with limited limb functionality might find a blog post such as this one, helpful in their own experiences.
Personally, my transition into puberty was incredibly taxing both on my body and emotional state in that I had no choice but to allow the assistance of elder women in my care, and the hormonal changes alone - combined with the physical demands of my Cerebral Palsy - led to intense sporadic convulsions, psychogenic in origin, as well as an unexpected heavy decline in physical agility.
Naturally, I embarked upon this journey at the start of my teens, but to be standing in an inclusive public restroom, clinging to a grab bar while my physical therapist and personal care aid both cleaned the blood from my legs, and softly hushed my embarrassment, was equally as terrifying as getting your very first place beyond a campus dorm. No one can fully prepare for a reality so blatantly raw like it. I wasn't merely transitioning into ladyhood; this newly formed alliance between the female biological process and the effects of my brain injury forced me to greet and learn to withstand a whole new dimension of exposure most people never think about.
This is why the relationship a woman has with her caregivers must be rooted in a trust so strong, they learn to waltz. To strip naked before trusted staff is one thing, yet to get to the place where you're comfortable enough to let them help you freshen up in feminine care takes an immense amount of inner strength and a concrete sense of self-dignity. It is immeasurably commendable.
Feminine care became an especially harrowing task for me when I reached my late adolescence, because of this desire to figure out ways of preserving my dignity to the greatest extent. I became acutely self-conscious when my care staff or nurses would touch and move my body to assist me in washing up. I would close my eyes as they would roll me on my side, naked, and run a warmed washcloth between my legs and over my chest, the most personal places of my body displayed for other people to see. No matter how understanding and respectful my aids were, it was always difficult, and always will be. It's not something to which anyone can completely be desensitized. In these moments even now, I see the room as a narrowing box, as a compression seems to settle over me regardless if I'm holding my breath or not, producing a plethora of thoughts related to irony and fears of the future.
I'll be honest and say I've thought much about whether or not "a man exists who wouldn't mind helping his wife in this care" so much that at various times I will also think that perhaps such a bond is just "not in my cards". These types of thoughts, however understandable, are nonetheless painful, and a reality for so many facing similar challenges as I do. I'll admit that I more often than not convince myself to disregard my emotions and "push on" against the current of adversity with a zealousness that consequently means I operate like an android on most days. My care staff often find me in a state of disembodiment which surpasses a means of psychological defense, my handling of stress, being borderline animalistic.
Like a lioness might pace, hunch down and dart into a pack larger than herself, never minding her physical pain or size, so too do I tend to numb myself mentally under agony or anguish, and take whatever barrels at me. I'll keep up my defense long after one might say my soul has been skinned and blistered, until a loved one finally looks at me and says, "Sarah, breathe, baby, be present, be at peace. You don't need to be formidably strong right now, it's okay to feel."
After that, I'll be in the middle of being bathed and often feel the weight of my irony and illness burrow into my soul to the end that a silent prayer for divine rescue from this circumstance, is all I can muster. Even the toughest and most calloused soldiers sometimes taste the fog as it sweeps across their battlefield, for it can become so thick that it invades. When this fog plumes within the mind, it can likewise consume the person, indiscriminating of their degree of fortitude.
It's imperative that this is kept in your remembrance. It is not self-pity, nor is it being indignant in any way, to have moments of falling to our knees. Doing so does not necessarily mean surrender, in fact it might signify a conscious decision to reflect and reconnect with what makes us human. And that my friend, is a beautiful thing. Don't feel ashamed in relaxing your defense for a time so as to sit with your emotions and cleanse your heart.
All the women on my care staff are selfless and are very close to me. They each tenderly approach my care as though I were a daughter to them. They'll squat down to my level, rub my arm and look me in the eye, with words of lullaby on their tongue, acknowledging my distress. They may brush the hair behind me ear, send me a facial expression I liken to a winter windowsill candle, and actually voice my emotion for me as if we shared it together. "Why are we nervous?" "We're not feeling so well today, hmm?" There was one nurse I had who said in a loving whisper, "it's a process, huh?" while she positioned my body and undressed me discreetly. She had heard my groans of discomfort, seen tears brim, and felt my skin flush hot from my attempting to withhold sobs. In that second, though she wasn't even an acquaintance yet, her extension of concern had me feeling as though she were a sister. My male nurse came in and she informed him, "I ripped her underpants taking them off." He went to the closet and exclaimed, "Oh, my!" He turned my way and scrunched his nose playfully. "We can't have that, can we? Let's fix it, shall we?" Immediately, my self-consciousness dissipated.
When I accept my exposure and eventually set aside initially feeling uncomfortable, I then view monthly cycle purely by what is it permits: the intricate development and introduction of Life. What a joy it is then, to concentrate on the beauty of being a woman, and what gratitude I have, knowing the assistance I have in experiencing life, also is so that I might fully see myself as a gallant woman, capable of bringing it into existence, should I someday choose to.
My wish for you then, dear reader, is to embrace this beautiful privilege. Though needing help with feminine care may sometimes cause momentary anxiety, ensure you let such times show you how truly beautiful, worthy, resilient and needed you are. May the reality that you are a Woman, empower you.
MY TIPS FOR HANDLING THE STRESS OF NEEDING FEMININE CARE ASSIST:
1.) Realize 'It Is What It Is': It may presently not be in your power to independently go about this very personal task, and coming to terms with this reality is what makes receiving assistance with it, something so appreciated in the end. The women who help you may become among your closest, most trusted friends, with whom you form irreplaceable bonds, cherished deeply.
2.) Keep It Clinical, Yet Empathetic: I personally have asked of my personal care staff that they assist in these times very clinically; please don't joke, don't make faces, don't do small talk. At the same time, one of the worst feelings in the world is when the clinical demeanor of an aid gives the impression that they do not empathize with your feelings of vulnerability, either because they work in complete silence or in collaboration with another assistant, exchanging small talk utterly unrelated. Efficiency and cleanliness are achieved best when my aids soothe my distress in the ways that I told them are helpful, and also when they tell me beforehand, what part of my body they will touch, how they will touch me and with what. By doing this, I know my right to and desire for dignity is respected as much as possible.
3.) Conceal & Concentrate: Always ensure that whoever is helping you, covers up all areas of your exposed body that they are not bathing, and have them bathe each exposed area one at a time. This is a requirement of all medical nurses, regardless. Even though you'll want to hurry things along and be done with bathing as quickly as possible, if your aid does her task in haste, it may cause your physical pain, it may lead to you not being covered and may additionally make things untidy and unsanitary.
4.) Let Your Distress Be Separate: Picture your pain or stress as being separate from your body and merely in your presence, not a part of you. Take a deep breath, close your eyes and simply become a "tangible form"; let your mind settle in a place of stillness and slumber until you are ready to be dressed again, at which time you can open your eyes and go about the rest of your day. In a sense, it's like deep sea diving into meditation. Let your sea be your soul, and sink into its depth, until you reach that incredibly quiet place.