I would just like to say at this point that it's not as easy as they imply, to enjoy a shower without getting this Hickman* line wet, nor any of it's surrounds.
So I came up with a plan, based on the half hearted and incomplete advice of the medical professionals, whereby they suggest taping a plastic bag, or cling film around the area. This doesn't work for several reasons.
One. Any tape available either doesn't stick, or in the instance of gaffa tape, sticks too well (and removes skin on removal).
Two. Cling film might once have actually earned its name, but for some reason, no doubt due to global warming and the consequences of mistaken belief, it no longer does. Thank you to the foil hat "its all our fault" brigade who believe global warming is anything other than a natural cycle, and certainly nothing at all to do with me, just trying to get a flipping shower.
Three. Plastic bags subjected to moisture and heat on one side, inherently and sympathetically produce twice that moisture on the other side. Everyone knows this.
Four. The human body (at least mine) is shaped ergonomically and specifically to ensure a 100% wetting when stood under a shower head. This means that the chestal/breastal area, what with it being nearer the top than the bottom (at least mine is), has no chance whatsoever of remaining dry, no matter at what inclination one might take up stance.
So my solution, although quite possibly beyond radical, was this; To dispatch Lambert to a well known establishment catering to non mainstream preference, brandishing his own debit card (didn't want my name appearing on their records) with the instruction to purchase a rubberoid top, suitable to my needs.
After what seemed like quite a bit too long for such a simple task, he emerged from the establishment replete with surely far too many plain brown packages for a simple rubberised top. He also bore a very weird and unLambert like smile, which leads me to believe he has something underfoot for when I am away to Hospital, but I digress.
So after the shopping trip, and some furtive "sorting out whose is whose" by Lambert, I surveyed my lime green libidex Princess top (always wanted to be a Princess from time to time) and here is what they say about it, their words, not mine,
"A cropped version of our full Princess Dress, creating a charming and versatile top that fits perfectly into anyones fetish wardrobe. Matches up perfectly with many of our Skirts and Leggings."
I have no idea what a fetish wardrobe is, mine is just a regular one with some draws for shoes and a top box for jumpers and those godawful leggings that never want to hang properly.
The first problem, was actually getting myself inside the thing. I'm sure I sent Lambert in with the appropriate size, and yet despite this, I find myself covered in little stings from the thing snapping as I fight to fit inside. Luckily Lambert, the charmingly useful man, had thought to buy some slippy oils while he was in the shop, and he suggests applying some first.
Which leads to the second problem. All I can say is that I have known Lambert a very long time and it almost seemed ok that he volunteered to help.
Well, having a shower never before seemed so troublesome, and yet strangely fun. Worked a treat this morning, with just one small problem. Hot water seems to have shrunk the garment and I still cant get it off, even though Lambert has kindly poured, or tried to pour, that slippy stuff down each arm, which tickles quite a lot, and also sprayed me with something or other from his potting shed containing cold water which only served to, well you know how the cold affects a person. He kept at that for some time and quite diligently, but it had no effect as far as I could tell. Not on me anyway.
So there it is. My solution. Any suggestions as to how I might get myself out of the contraption are most welcome. Meanwhile on this hot sunny day, I am off for a walk.
* Hickman line. Something they install in the chest to administer fluids into the heart, or somewhere like that.
Lizzie xx