A Stimulating Time

Fifty Shades of Disability is when your spine stimulator needs a safe word.

Life is different when one finds themselves disabled. Especially when your bible is The Joy of Nooking.

A lot changed when I got hit on the head. And unfortunately for my husband, that was the first to go.

So what does a girl do when missionary no longer means kneeling in prayer? When her whole world as he knew it has come crashing down on her?

I've learned to simplify. The kids really didn't need to see a swing set in our room anyway. And who needs a mirror on the ceiling when you can just take a selfie?

Along with simplification comes pain management in the form of an electro spine stimulation implant. The device is implanted in my flank, with leads that go up my spine and block pain signals from going to my brain. Looks great in a thong.

Now that things are different, it usually goes like this. He kisses me. That way. You know, when it's not just a kiss. A request I love to hear, but with my limitations often falls on deaf ears. There may be a hundred ways to skin a cat, but this kitty's got a brand new bag. A bag with training wheels as I try learn all over again how to be a wife to my man.

We start the snuggle. I lay on my back. Oh dear. Wait a minute. My spine stimulator. It increases stimulation when I'm prone. Which could be good. If it were stimulating somewhere else. But it's not. Unless that spot is in the spine. Which it's not. At least not as far as I can tell. And finding out if there is one there could be weird. And require additional surgery. Which I'm about to have. But not for this.

So back to the stimulator. As I've said before, imagine the vibrating chair from your local nail salon implanted in your spine. Then turn it on high. That is what it feels like. But when you lay down, it spikes. Which results in "Honey just a minute, hold that thought..."

I reach over to my night stand and feel for the drawer. Also known as the hoarding bin. I search for my spine's remote control. Not the one for the TV, or the fan, or my laptop. My spine. But I can't find it.

He's still holding that thought.

I cannot find my remote. Now the stimulation has shifted to my leg. So now just one leg is vibrating, which is a bit distracting. But he's distracted too. I need to hurry.

My purse. It must be in my purse.

Hold on honey. Oh yes, he's already doing that. I make my way to my purse. My back is naked. Scars. My scars. I look like a game of Battleship from the back. Battleship over the Panama Canal. Gotta turn the lights off.

Limp, drag, limp, drag. God I'm hot. I make my way to the light switch. Light's off. Good. Dang. Where's my purse. With the remote. I'll turn on the bathroom light. It's softer.

Light's on. His silhouette is beginning to flatten out on the bed. I'll be there in just a minute.

Ok. Light is soft. Scars are dimmed.

Limp, drag, limp, drag. I make my way to my purse. Remote. Check.

Beep. Can't get a signal on the remote. Gotta point it more towards my buttox. I can get it, I just need to roll onto my right side. Honey, can you move over? Reception is bad. Just a minute. Beep. Beep. Beeeeep. Ok. I think I got it. I choose a program level that should work. *#/&@! I left that program on too high last time! Hold on honey. Let me bring the levels back down. Forget it, I'm just going to turn it off. Beeeeeeeeep. Ok. It's off.

Ok! My stimulator is off now.

Wait. You want me to do what?

Um, hold on.

Ok.

I just need to - turn my stimulator back on...