College is a time for experimenting, right? I had always wondered, so I thought that I would give it a try. I decided to use crutches instead of my wheelchair on a date. A movie date. I suggested a tearjerker, trying to show my sensitive side. All went well until nature called. It was near the end of the movie. So, after finishing, I sat in the back row to meet her afterwards. She drove us back to my apartment. I invited her in. Four of my five roommates were home. She came in, but left rather quickly. After walking her out to her car, I could hear hysterical laughter from the apartment. Once inside, through cries of laughter, one of the roommates beckoned me to a full-length mirror and motioned for me to turnaround. There I saw four to five squares of two-ply hanging from my shorts. I have been loyal to my wheelchair since. Needless to say, there was no second date.
As anyone with a spinal cord injury knows, there is no modesty in the hospital. The morning after my cervical spinal fusion, my mom was at my bedside while a nurse uncovered my otherwise nude bottom half for whatever reason. As she did, my chatty mom fell silent and inquisitively stared down in the direction of my lady parts. Out of nowhere, she looks over at the nurse and gesturing between my legs asks, “Did the surgeon do that?” Stunned and suddenly mortified, I realized my mom had just inquired if the neurosurgeon, who operated on my neck, was somehow responsible for the bikini wax I had received in the week prior to my accident. The nurse laughed and said, “I do believe your daughter was in charge of that.” To prep for the surgery, they had shaved part of my head, but I can’t imagine why they would’ve needed to shave anything else, mom.
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