Like just about every other kid in Western postindustrial society, I was brought up placing great value on independence and self-reliance. And control is the name of the game. For everyone. Control of the bladder and bowels is the first control we get as kids, and its desirability is reinforced by parents' respose to successful potty training. It's no wonder that an adult's loss of control is felt as the ultimate humiliation that, no matter how one thinks of it (i.e. up, down, sideways, and up the rear end), is never ok. Sorry, I will never get used to losing control of my bowels.

As far as dependence goes, let me just state up front that I hate it. Hate it. Having cleared that up, it has occured to me to wonder about the people who help me: who am I to say that helping me isn't a part of their process? So it's ok for me to help them, but not ok for them to help me? I came to the definite conclusion that I needed to take myself a little (ok, a lot) less seriously.

Chris