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That moment is changing the batteries in your vibrator.

Just because you have a chronic illness or disability doesn’t mean other bits of you have gone to sleep. However, when your hands, elbows and shoulders are wrecked by RA, technical assistance can be necessary during moments of getting in touch with your baser instincts. So I did what any liberated modern woman would do. I found a disability-friendly “adult” store, dragged a friend along, and giggled my way through a conversation with the salesperson to find the perfect vibrator for me.

Did you know that the best way of checking whether the intensity of a vibrator is right for you is by buzzing the area between nose and mouth? It’s amazing what you learn in such places…

Fast forward to a time where it became apparent that my new friend needed a change of batteries. I tried opening the infernal battery compartment and not surprisingly, couldn’t. And that was the start of an extended thought process in which I considered every single person I knew for the role of potential Vibrator Battery Changer (VBC).

My mother. Are you kidding me? We have an excellent relationship, even make jokes about sex every now and again, but ask my MOTHER to be VBC?? No. Can’t.  Need therapy now. Lots of therapy.

My sister. A definite candidate, but she lives in another city and doesn’t visit too often. When she does, her partner’s with her. I tried imagining looking up from playing with the twins to say “excuse me, I need to borrow your wife for a moment while we exchange batteries in my vibrator.” Nope. Doesn’t work

Attendants. Well, they are supposed to help me with tasks I can’t do myself, so theoretically they should be the perfect VBC. However, they are also notoriously incapable of keeping stuff to themselves and this? Would be really excellent gossip. I’m not prepared for the entire staff at the agency, female and male, knowing I have a vibrator and, based on the need to change batteries, that I have used it. Just. Not.

Friendly neighbour who occasionally helps me out with various practical tasks. Nope. Not going there. So not. Considered and eliminated within a nanosecond.

Friends. Well. Hmmm. Alright then. What kind of friend could you approach with this kind of conundrum? Someone close, someone with whom you’ve shared deep, dark secrets, someone who is comfortable with the topic of sex, will keep it to themselves and after the deed is done, is capable of pretending it never happened.

I had several potential contenders.

The perfect option was my best friend. We’ve shared decades of ups and downs, know each other’s secrets and have talked about everything under the sun. And after all, a really good girlfriend is someone who’ll hold your hair when you throw up after having one too many because you saw your ex with his new girlfriend, right? (I think I’ve watched too much Sex and the City — this has never happened to me and not just because my hair is short enough to be out of the way on its own). However, she’s a single mother with a full-time job and we didn’t see each other much in person, so I had to move on.

Somewhat belatedly, it was becoming clear to me that I had to add another selection criteria: lives in town and visits regularly. At the time, most friends fitting this description were men.

Right, then.

Some people say men and women can’t be friends, that sex is always in the way and I don’t agree. However, asking your heterosexual male friend to change the battery in your vibrator would definitely put sex right in there, leading to potentially awkward moments.

Male friend with a partner? Thankfully, a lot of women get that men and women can be friends and adopt their partners’ female friends as their own. Still, this could be crossing the line (really? You think??).

Gay male friend? Not a bad option, as long as you could get over that thing about asking a friend to do this. Which, as you may have gathered by now, was nigh on impossible for me.

It took a while, but in the end, I did ask a friend. Who to this day blessedly pretends it never happened.

What’s your one thing?