A Mother's Love

Alyssa grasped the railing on the left side of her bed and used all of her strength to roll onto her left shoulder. Alyssa's mother, Lisa, gently aligned her daughter's paralyzed legs with the rest of her body, placing Alyssa's right knee closer to her chest.

Lisa looked down at her daughter, stark naked on a blue pad in a hospital-style bed. Physically, Alyssa looked a lot like her mother at the same age; both had the same pouty, full lips, dark hair and eyes. While both women had the same slender, petite build, Alyssa stood at five feet five inches tall, four inches taller than her mother.

"Glove, please," said Alyssa.

Lisa gently uncurled the fingers on her daughter's paralyzed right hand, and slipped the fingers into a purple nitrile glove. Two sizes larger than Alyssa's hand, but this allowed the gloves to be placed on and off of Alyssa's quadriplegic hands by another person.

"Please prepare the suppository," said Alyssa.

"Absolutely," said Lisa.

Lisa retrieved the suppository inserter from the bureau, and fetched a lubricant packet and suppository from the medicine cabinet. Once she had unwrapped and lubricated the suppository, Lisa positioned it inside the inserter, before placing the apparatus inside the grasp of Alyssa's right hand.

"Thanks," said Alyssa.

Alyssa had been discharged from the SCI rehab program at the Foxe Institute nearly two weeks prior, and Lisa was adapting to the role of caregiver quite naturally. Even before the accident they had been exceptionally close for a mother and daughter, but Alyssa's paralysis just seemed to bring them that much closer. Coincidentally, and somewhat tragically, both women had been exceptional gymnasts until their careers were both cut short at the age of 19. Alyssa's by the accident on the film set that broke her neck, Lisa's so she could birth and raise Alyssa.

Alyssa had done stunt work on a few independent films prior to her accident, but Schon's Fury was the first major motion picture she had found work on. One scene called for Alyssa to land a backflip off of a rooftop into a faceplant. Unfortunately, Alyssa underrotated on the jump and landed directly on the top of her head, with an audible snapping sound. To add insult to injury, inevitable script rewrites lead to her scenes being cut from the theatrical release of the film. Hospital stay, rehab, every therapy under the sun and she didn't have a damned thing to show for it.

Schon's Fury led to Alyssa's big break, directly at the C6 vertebra.

Lisa placed a stick on incense in the burner and lit it. Nag champa, her favorite as well as Alyssa's.

"What do you want to listen to?," asked Lisa.

"I think there's a new Mild Answers," said Alyssa.

Lisa put the podcast on, and awaited further instructions from her daughter. She was well aware of the next step in the routine, but the staff at Foxe had made it a habit that Alyssa verbally guided her caregiver through each step of her bowel routine, regardless of who was assisting her. Independence was the biggest factor in performing her routine in bed, therapists at Foxe spent countless hours attempting to develop a bowel routine for Alyssa on a commode over the toilet. Ultimately, it was discovered that Alyssa required the least amount of outside assistance/care performing the evacuation on her left side, in bed.

"Hold my mirror, please," said Alyssa.

Lisa grabbed the oversized hand mirror off of Alyssa's vanity. Lisa held the mirror across from Alyssa's numb buttocks, and rotated the mirror according to her daughter's directions. Once the mirror was at the correct angle for Alyssa to fully visualize her anatomy, she guided the suppository into her anal cavity, pushing just far enough in to activate the spring-loaded applicator on her suppository inserter. As she watched the smooth, white plastic applicator penetrate her, she remembered what it felt like to have something going the opposite way, but she realized that while she remembered, she couldn't actually feel it right now. When she was sure the suppository was in place, she removed the inserter and handed it to Lisa, who placed it in the red bucket to be sterilized.

"Would you like your tablet?," asked Lisa

"Yes please," said Alyssa. "And my Psych textbook, page 245."

Lisa set up her daughter's iPad and textbook where Alyssa could reach them, as well as placing the page turner in Alyssa's mouth, before removing her glove.

"Thanks mom," said Alyssa.

Lisa took the red bucket and left the room to give Alyssa some privacy, even though the door was wide open. Alyssa focused on her homework, trying to not let the podcast distract her too much. Had the accident not happened, Alyssa was scheduled to begin her Freshman year at Quaker State University, studying Massage Therapy. Now, she was getting her Associate of Arts at the local community college. Lisa wanted her to become a teacher after her AA, but Alyssa wanted to study law. After about thirty minutes, there was a knock at her door.

"Come in," said Alyssa.

"It's been about half an hour," said Lisa, as she walked over to Alyssa's bedside. "Just wanted to check on you."

"Oh," said Alyssa. "Did I go?"

"Yes," said Lisa, quietly. "Yes you did."

Alyssa had indeed "gone" a few times on the underpad beneath her. The incense had mostly covered the odor, and her attention was divided between the podcast and her homework, so she didn't hear her bowels evacuate.

"Hand me the stimulator," said Alyssa, mildly embarrassed. "And please hold my mirror."

'Would you like a glove?," asked Lisa.

"Yes please," said Alyssa, growing frustrated.

Lisa calmly repeated the process of fighting the glove onto Alyssa's paralyzed fingers. She then lubricated Alyssa's anal stimulator and placed the device in Alyssa's hand. Lisa grabbed the mirror and repositioned it, staying silent as she knew her daughter had forgotten a crucial step.

"Oh, fuck me!," exclaimed Alyssa, burying her face into her pillow.

When Alyssa gazed into the mirror, she realized she didn't ask to be cleaned. Cleanup was the only part of her bowel routine she was completely dependent for, she lacked sufficient motor skill to wipe herself. Not only was it humiliating to see herself covered in excrement like that, it was incredibly difficult, if not downright impossible to visualize her anatomy. After a few brief moments of silence, Alyssa picked her head up and sniffled.

"Mama?," asked Alyssa, sniffling quietly. "Could you please wipe me?"

This was probably the most difficult part for both of them. Lisa had changed Alyssa's diapers as a baby, but wiping a tiny, fidgety baby was an entirely different beast than wiping an adult who was not only physically larger than her, but couldn't physically assist at all. Without saying a word, Lisa delicately wiped her daughter's private area from front to back in short, gentle strokes. Once Alyssa was clean, Lisa spoke up.

"Ready to try again?," asked Lisa.

Alyssa spoke only to guide her mother's hands into properly adjusting the mirror. Once she could see everything she needed to, Alyssa stuck the pointed tip of the stimulator inside of her anus and rubbed the walls in a clockwise motion as she counted to ten. Once she reached ten seconds, she removed the stimulator, which was followed by a few rogue stools falling onto the pad. Both women tried their best to look away, but both needed to see what was going on. Alyssa repeated this cycle of stimulation for about three minutes, until she was only passing gas, the telltale sign her bowels were empty. Once again, Lisa wiped her quadriplegic daughter's behind, although there was considerably less mess this time.

Alyssa handed her mother the anal stimulator, and she placed it in the red bucket along with the suppository inserter. Lisa removed Alyssa's glove, and then took off her own before rolling them up with the wipes and mess on the disposable pad. Lisa placed the rolled up pad in a heavy duty trash bag to be taken out in the morning. She carried the trash out to the front door and washed her hands in the bathroom, returning to Alyssa's bedside with a mixing bowl filled with a sponge, a washcloth, and warm soapy water.

Lisa balanced the bowl on Alyssa's nightstand, and placed a fresh bed pad underneath her daughter. Once the pad was placed, Alyssa rolled onto her back as Lisa helped raise the head on the bed.

Lisa wringed out the sponge and handed it to Alyssa. The large size and soft, squeezable texture was ideal for Alyssa's limited gripping abilities. Alyssa gently scrubbed her face with the sponge, and then lifted each arm and traded hands to wash her underarms.

"Are you still getting coffee with Ty tomorrow?," asked Lisa.

"Mhmm," said Alyssa.

Tyson was a friend of Alyssa's. They had gone to school together, he flipped his truck during spring of his senior year, when Alyssa was a sophomore. While they weren't super close, they did have a lot of mutual friends, enough that Alyssa had visited him a few times while he was at Foxe for rehab. They had been re-acquainted during Alyssa's rehabilitation, as part of Foxe's peer mentor program.

"That's good," said Lisa. "I think you two are cute together."

"Geez mom," said Alyssa, dismissively. "We're not going out or anything."

Regardless of what her daughter said, Lisa would've liked Alyssa to go out with a guy like Tyson. He was funny, respectful, and undeniably cute. It certainly didn't hurt that, at least in Lisa's mind, a paraplegic boy was significantly less likely to premaritally impregnate her only child.

Not incapable of, but significantly less likely to.

While Alyssa scrubbed her face and armpits, Lisa was simultaneously washing her crotch. She took the cloth and gently rubbed it over Alyssa's vagina. With her bare hand, she spread her daughter's thin, pink lips to clean in between, paying special attention to the catheter draining into a bag attached to Alyssa's bed.

Once Alyssa's private area was clean, Lisa folded the washcloth and gently washed her small, soft feet. Lisa lifted each foot to wash the top, bottom, and of course in between Alyssa's toes before gently resting them back onto the bed.

Alyssa handed the sponge off to Lisa, who threw it in the bowl along with the washcloth. She left the bedroom and returned a few seconds later, producing a small, brown glass bottle.

"What's that?," asked Alyssa.

"Cannabis oil," said Lisa. "Your great-uncle Russ makes it in his cellar, he gave it to me when I was visiting him the other day."

Uncle Russ's cannabis oil was well-known in the region for its medicinal properties, namely that it helped with some of the muscle spasms that Alyssa suffered from. It also did an excellent job of conditioning the skin to be soft, smooth and supple. Really, the only negative drawback was the pungent, unmistakable, skunky odor that seemed to linger until the oil was fully absorbed. Lisa took a small handful and rubbed her hands together, gently and thoroughly massaging it into each of Alyssa's arms, starting with the shoulder and working down to the fingertip. She took a tad more oil and worked it into both of Alyssa's legs, from the top of the hip down past her toes. Lisa took one last dab and massaged it into Alyssa's lower abdomen, between her navel and pubic area. Alyssa looked up at her mother, confused.

"I can feel my moon coming," said Lisa. "So yours is probably on the way, too."

Alyssa silently shrugged. She hadn't gotten her period since she'd gotten hurt, and she was seeing it as the only real positive of the situation. But she supposed that mothers had a weird sense about these things, so she braced for the worst.

Once the oil was sufficiently absorbed into Alyssa's skin, she lifted her arms up as much as she could, and Lisa draped the sheet over her chest. Once Lisa had placed the sheet as straight as she could, Alyssa tucked it down underneath.

"What do you want to do for your birthday?," asked Lisa.

Alyssa laughed, "It's not for another three months!"

"I know," said Lisa. There was a lot she wanted to say, but she trailed off trying to say it, "...you only turn 20 once, you have to make it memorable."

Alyssa sighed, put her head down, and chuckled once more. "Let's just get through midterms first," she said.

"Goodnight kiddo," said Lisa, kissing her daughter's forehead. "I love you."

"I love you, mom," said Alyssa. "Goodnight."

Lisa walked out of Alyssa's bedroom, turning off the bedroom light. Every day was a mixed bag of emotions when it came to Alyssa's paralysis, but the one thing Lisa never felt was guilt for getting to tuck her in again.