I had purchased a shower-seat, once of those geriatric support items that prevents falls while sluicing down and getting a rich foamy life-affirming lather on the skin.

Since the original accident, I have had the uncomfortable nagging sensation that the bum leg would collapse and fold me into the tub in some impossible and painful contortion. So the shower was not a relaxing place to be- rather one of necessity coupled with fear and dread.

I actually was thinking ahead on this current situation. After my second visit to Bethesda, and detailed consultations with my senior associate Mac, I determined that a shower seat was in order. That, and one of those hand-held shower units that you screw into the existing nozzle and gives you the ability to direct the soothing warm water exactly where you want it.

Some them come with a variety of bells and whistles and intensity. I have women friends who swear by them, not precisely for the same reason I was interested, but I digress.

Anyway, the thing hanging me up was the fact that the Docs were quite stern about not getting the brace wet, which made a real test drive of the system un-nerving. I have been dreading the idea of getting trapped back there- should I not be able to get the brace back on and confront navigation unprotected.

Anyway, the humidity and sweat finally got even to me yesterday. Sticky. Uncomfortable. Loathsome.

No alternative. I peeled off down to the brace. I hobbled to the bathroom and got on the scale. I have actually appeared to have lost a couple pounds through the last month, if the scale is to be believed even with the brace included. Then I turned and backed toward the shower, and grabbed one of the handles on the shower seat, hoping it would be stable. It was. I sat down and looked up. The cut off valve was way up there, so I grabbed a crutch and levered myself up and then sat down again.

Then off with the brace, unclipping the speed-release clips that remind me of the ski-boot closures we used to wear. The lower one- the one down by the ankle- was a challenge, and would require a significant re-engineering to get it back on. But I decided to deal with that buckle when I got to it again, and dropped the brace outside the shower.

Then I dropped the soap. Lost forever, or at least for the duration of this encounter with water, but no matter. Not now.

I shampooed up in luxurious lather. I found the shaving cream and the razor and sliced off the two-day growth on my face. Then back to the hand-held to scald in delightful release.

When the hot wonderful water had sluiced away all the soap, north and south, I turned off the water, and contemplated just how I was going to get the towel and the brace back on my leg. I am getting quite adept at fishing things around with the crutch, and in a split half-hour was pulling up a fresh pair of shorts and clean t-shirt.

I have not felt so good in a month. Oh, baby!