All about Bidets

It’s been a busy week. We closed the sale of the ranch in Nevada. As I requested, they sent the check to me here in Oklahoma. I then sent it back to Nevada to my credit union in Reno. 

I worried a little about sending a check that big through the mail, but the lady at the post office assured me that I didn’t need to insure a check, only a money order. She said the bank will honor the check stub if the check got lost in the mail.

It took about five days to show up in the account, and I was beginning to get worried, but the credit union posted it immediately, even though it is unavailable for a week or ten days, so I knew it had arrived OK. I guess they have to notify the IRS, the DEA, and other agencies so they can figure out if I just scored a big drug sale, or am laundering cash, or owe the government money for taxes.

Maybe they just need to move the gold from Winnemucca to Reno!

Carolyn was in a good mood today when I found her out in the lobby. It was about time for her two o’clock meds, and she took them without any complaint at all. I went over to make a cup of coffee, and Carolyn followed me over to the Keurig machine to watch. As she got close, it became quite obvious that we needed to take her back to her room and change underwear. The smell was pretty strong.

As I was walking beck to her room holding her hand, we met Angela in the hall, and she spoke cheerily to Carolyn and asked how she was doing. After a little chit chat, I mentioned we were going back for a change of underwear. 

She sniffed and agreed, and asked if I needed help. I said, “Thanks, but I got this!”

We had no sooner gotten her skirt off in the bathroom, and the Guardian hospice nurse, Mary, knocked on the door. I told her we were just starting to change Carolyn’s drawers, and she said she was there to give her a shower.

I said, “Well, in that case, I’ll hand her over to you.” 

She took over, and I went out to sit on the couch and wait. This was for sure the kind of big stinky mess that needed a shower, not like yesterday, when it was a small stinky mess that I took care of with the bidet.

The thought occurred to me as I sat there that Mary probably didn’t know about the bidet. Not many toilets come with a remote. So when they were finished, I offered to show her how it worked.

She finished getting Carolyn dressed, and I took the remote off the wall and handed it to her. Unless you are sitting on the seat, it takes three hands to operate, because skin contact is needed on the seat before it will go.

I put a hand on the seat where the sensor is located, and put my other hand where your bottom would be if you were sitting there, and had her push the button marked BACK. The little nozzle came out and warm water washed the palm of my hand. She looked a little amazed. I had her push the stop button, and then push the FRONT button. Another nozzle extended out farther forward from the other one, and once again warm water streamed out against my hand. Mary said she wanted one for her home.

I assured her that if you ever have one, you will never go without one again. This is the cheap one, at about $250, but if you want to spend  a hundred dollars more, they come with a blow dryer, too. Totally eliminates using paper at all, but you need to have a little time for the air dryer to do its thing.

I have wondered why all hospital toilets aren’t equipped with bidets, just for the sanitary benefits, and maybe restaurants, too. 

In Japan, where cleanliness is almost an obsession, it is rare to find a toilet without one. I spent a year and a half in Japan, and found they think we are filthy savages, for the most part. They are horrified to think that someone would walk into the house with shoes on, the same shoes that might have stepped in anything out there on the street.

I guess that concludes this ad for bidets. The brand name is Brondell, but there are other brands, too. Costco has them, most hardware stores will order them for you, and amazon.com has them if all else fails. Order one now, and be the first on your block!

Mary dressed Carolyn in a beautiful purple and orange silk blouse, and we walked up to the front to show it off. Leon, the hospice chaplain was there, and some of the other residents and staff. She was feeling pretty proud and happy by then, so I told her, “I’ll be back tomorrow, and don’t forget I love you!”

She was smiling as I left.