13. Take a thermal bath

Imagine a room of pristine white subway tile, with twenty or so tiled cubicles around the edges of the room, each with a starched white curtain in the entrance to each cubicle. A row of neatly placed 30's era white enameled metal chaises ran down the center of the large room, and stacks of fluffy white towels and sparkling clean sheets added the final grace note to the bathhouse. An attendant handed me a white towel wrap and directed me to the locker room. I undressed and velcroed the towel wrap around me like bathhouse chic and locked my belongings in the locker and looked for LaToya, as I had been instructed to do.

LaToya was dressed in a starched white uniform and greeted me with the same delight one might expect from a long-lost friend. More of that Arkansas friendliness, I guessed. She led me to a cubicle, and informed me about the pure pleasure I was about to experience while she adjusted the water temperature in the bathtub. The thermal waters come out of the ground at 143 degrees farenheit, hot enough to parboil me if not tempered with cooled water.

The bathtub was the size of a small boat, large enough for all of my 5'9" self to fit into easily. The bathing experience is not for the modest, I was momentarily disoriented when I realized LaToya expected me to hand my wrap to her and climb into the tub buck nekkid. Well, how else would you take a bath? I had another good laugh at myself for feeling a little embarrassed, enjoying another opportunity to get out of my comfort zone and lovingly confront some self-image ideas. I settled into the tub and LaToya turned on the jets, and reminded me to drink the two small cups of water she had set on the side of the tub for me. "I'll be back in a few minutes to check on you", she assured me as she left my cubicle.

As I adjusted to the tub's thermally heated water, I lay back and thought about my attitude toward my body. At 50, my body no longer looked as it did 10 years ago, and didn't I sure judge it for that! What an impossible standard, I had, and wasn't I setting myself up to feel badly about myself? I chose to relax my mind along with my muscles, and take a few minutes to appreciate my body for hanging in there with me for 50 years without many complaints. I was healthy, no aches and pains, and while I did huff and puff my way up the mountain that morning, I made it there and back easily. The water swirled around me and soothed me in more ways than physically.

My favorite part of the bath was when LaToya returned with a loofa mitt (every patron gets one of their own) and scrubbed my back, arms and legs. I hadn't felt that good since my mom scrubbed me when I was a kid:-) And another delightful experience was waiting for me once I dried off and got back into my wrap.

LaToya led me to one of the chaises in the long row, and placed steaming hot towels down on which I was to lay. Once I was horizontal, she wrapped each limb in a steaming towel, giving each one an expert flip and soon I was pleasantly mummified. The crowning touch was a hand towel dipped in ice water, which was draped around my face, leaving an opening for my eyes, nose and mouth. Oh my! The contrast of the heat on my body and the coolness on my face was just wonderful, and I melted into the chaise and contemplated this little bit of heaven in the unlikely place of Arkansas. In their heyday before TV and radio, I was told that the baths formed the social fabric of Hot Springs. Everyone walked down the promenade and formed bonds during the bathing experience. The role of Bath Attendant was a coveted one in years past, and one that was reached only after an apprenticeship.

I found myself a bit humbled and appreciative of LaToya's ministrations and care, and decided that there must be a couple of wings hidden under that starched white uniform.