Thinking more with the pocketbook than common sense, whoever bought the standard sized toilet for Rusty's mom's new apartment blew it. She was happy with it until she had knee surgery. Someone then bought her a four inch high plastic extension donut with handles on the sides. Rusty often thought it would be interesting to see a "flesh flow" graphic (not a video, just a graphic)of a "large" person trying to crowd an ample hiney between those handles.

The "deposit" hole was so small one year olds couldn't have fallen through it unless they went in feet first. In the front was a trough that carried anything wayward out into the floor or over on the door.

One day grandma hadn't adequately tightened the big thumb screw which held the apparatus securely on the stool. Somehow, she fell off sideways and couldn't get up. When she called Rusty's sister's phone in the other end of the house, the only one home was a very bashful 18 year old grandson. "Joel, please come help me. When you get to the bathroom close your eyes." Evidently, she didn't want to scare the poor kid.

With eyes closed, Joel retrieved the donut and was cleaning it up when granny realized that while lying on her pants, she couldn't rise by herself. She hollered again, "Joel, I can't get up.
Close your eyes and come help me get up."

Rusty tried to use the goofy contraption a time or two and decided it was better to journey next door. Just standing operations required a major wipe up and a few squirts with aerosol Lysol.

This week, Rusty's sister got a bug in her bonnet to change out a toilet in the main house that had a discolored interior surface on the bowl. We swapped granny's old stool for a new handicapped model. HOORAY!!!!!! Granny "JUST LOVES" her pretty new stool. So does Rusty.