Should I get into the hot tub...

If you said, "Eddie Murphy, in the Saturday Night Live skit where he played James Brown (James Brown's Celebrity Hot Tub Party), 1983," you get 1,000 bonus points.  But, for full credit, you had to include the title of the skit and the year in your answer.

This post may contain some mental bathroom images (no actual images), so if you have a weak stomach or are easily offended by bathing or male nudal frontity (Archie Bunker saying), move on; don't read this.  You have been warned.

One of the things I wanted when we built this house was a 2-person spa tub.  I have always enjoyed a soak in the hot tub... good for taking away any muscle aches and pains.  One of the things I discovered with my current recuperation: cold takes away the aches better than heat.  So, I haven't been all that anxious to... "Should I get into the hot tub?  Will it make me sweat?  Will it make me wet?"... yeah, more lines from that skit.

For the first month or so, I was told "No baths, showers only, and cover the incision with plastic when you shower."  (No bathing until every bit of scabbing on the incision is gone.)  With that issue out of the way, the next concern is... falling.  I have to step up and over to get into the spa tub; while there are no handicap railings, there are reasonable hand-holds.

A few days ago, under Joan's watchful eye, I got into the spa tub (hereafter to be called: the hot tub).  Clothed.  Well, except for bare feet.  No problem.  Proof that I could do it without falling.  Well, when it isn't wet and slippery.

I decided this morning was going to be my reintroduction to the pleasure of spa jets and warm water.  Under Joan's watchful eye once again, I climbed into the hot tub.  Nekkid.  Because that is the way you are supposed to bathe.  I eased myself down to the raised seating position, then down all the way into the tub.  Ahhhhhh, that feels good!  Shortly after that, the muscles around my incision said, "Hey, we already told you we like ice better than heat."

I said, "Shut up, muscles."  I have taken to talking to them when they complain about stuff.  After a mostly relaxing soak, Joan turned off the jets and then it is just like any other bathtub.  Then, time to get out.  That took a bit more strategerizing (George W. Bush saying) about what appendage was going to go where to get myself essentially from a sitting on the floor (of the tub) to an upright position.  Success.  Then, step up and over to get out.  Again, success.

Well, mostly success... no slip and fall, but the heat and jet action was something different for the new hip.  I used some muscles that apparently haven't been used in a while.  Nothing that an ice pack can't take care of.  I missed my hot tub.

While climbing in and out, I thought of something my friend and music partner Mark said to me a while back: I got into scooter riding because it was painful to throw a leg over a motorcycle.  He said, "So, your Vespa is the "walk-in tub" of motorcycles?"  Funny stuff, an an old person kinda way.  I've seen those ads for a walk-in tub... probably even got a brochure for them in one of the AARP mailings.

Not sounding so bad these days.  ;-)