WHY YOUR BUTT DESERVES BETTER

c​It was quite some years ago I had the sad misfortune to participate in the medical care of a woman who had anal carcinoma–in plain English, rectal cancer. She was attractive, 39, a mother and wife, and her medical history, as far as we knew, contained no risk factors. She was treated and lived for several years.

It was this case I suppose that came to mind when one night, while mindlessly scrolling the Facebook reels, not feeling like anything academic or intellectual, I came across an ad for a bidet. I almost passed it up, but I guess subconsciously stopped to read it. The subconscious is rather strange and mysterious, but I can’t think of any other reason why, with this lady’s case fresh in my mind (2 weeks) and in a vulnerable moment I suppose, I ended up ordering it. I mean, it said you didn’t need a $200 an hour plumber to install it, and that a person like me could do it, one 
as mechanically adept as a surgeon operating with oven mitts.

Sure enough, for some strange reason I was kind of excited. Like getting a new toy! After opening the box and reading the perfunctory instructions, I gathered the equipment for my bidet project and got to work. True to the ad, it was a piece of cake to install. I was so proud of myself I actually gave consideration to going out for plumbing. Actually, I really believe a surgeon with oven mitts could install it too.

Anyway, on using it for the very first time, I wasn’t sure what exactly to expect; not sure if the aiming direction of the spout thing was positioned correctly, and if it wasn’t what kind of biological turmoil or adventure might result. Nevertheless, I turned on the “get to work” knob and low and behold, what a clever invention I thought! And I’ve been using it ever since.

So here I am, a reformed master wiper telling you why your behind deserves an upgrade.

Have you ever tried to clean peanut butter out of a shag carpet? Probably not, if you don’t have kids or dogs. But water will definitely do a better job than dry paper. Ask a surgeon if they’ve ever cleaned their hands with dry paper towels. If they say yes, you might want to run the other way.

For the sensitive types–like me–using toilet paper is like sending your butt to boot camp–harsh, abrasive, unapologetic. Whereas a bidet is more like a feather-like hug from a cloud. And, for the poor soul with hemorrhoids, water feels like mercy! For hemorrhoids, the battle is no more. A gentle rinse leaves you clean and untraumatized.

For women, a bidet can reduce the frequency of urinary infections; for men, reduce the frequency of itching–as well as that paranoid shuffle we all do when we’re not sure we’re finished. Yea, don’t laugh. By the way, each bidet has a setting adjustment for the ladies. I suppose the distance between this and that on a Yin and Yang requires such.

Anyway, for seniors or anyone who’s had back, hip, or leg surgery, wiping can feel like Olympic gymnastics. And Lord knows, if you’ve ever broken or disabled your dominant hand....well! well! well!...what interesting and corrective acrobatics we do suddenly acquire.

And what about that undignified shuffle to the linen closet after staring aghast at that cardboard roll. Not a good spot to be in after that questionable burrito. A trusty bidet will eliminate such undignification–as well as keep you from screaming across the house to your spouse for her to get her butt in here ‘cause I need some toilet paper. A bidet is like a faithful friend who’s always there.

A last, but not least benefit, especially for our tree-hugger friends, is that using less paper is a benefit for our planet. You’ll have fewer clogged pipes, fewer emergency plumber visits, and fewer nights when you say, “Why does the bathroom smell like a middle-school gym sock convention?”

A bidet isn’t just a fancy European quirk. It’s a health upgrade, a skin-saver, and an aid in avoiding embarrasing moments. If toilet paper is the horse-and-buggy, the bidet is the Tesla—sleek, efficient, and maybe a little self-satisfied.

I’m not sure a bidet would have prevented my patient mentioned earlier from having cancer. But it certainly wouldn’t have hurt– and who knows, maybe it would have kept her anal skin cells from existing in an inflammed state. And that is a good thing. 

So if you’re still clinging to your rolls like I once did, consider this your invitation to the modern age. Treat your bottom to the royal rinse. It’s carried you through life, tolerated your questionable spicey tacos and buffets choices, and endured your stubborn loyalty to paper.

Because at the end of the day, the bottom line (pun intended) is that your behind deserves better–and you do too.

Try it. You’ll like it. Bet my bottom dollar on it.

For what it’s worth, there are several brands of bidets. I used one called Clear Rear ® . But there are ​others. I invite you to check them out.