It was probably a lot less humiliating  than it was humbling, really, to admit she was no longer an independent person who could do everything for herself. Lying in the hospital bed or on the physiotherapist's couch, trying to move her legs even the tiniest bit, she would have sworn there was no difference between being humbled and being humiliated. Technically there wasn't much. But humiliation was nasty, cruel, spiteful. Humbling was, she figured, more a self-reassessment of one's own worth and abilities. Her ego had been significantly reduced by her new situation. Asking for help to do even the simplest things that before she had taken for granted - things like pulling her pants down.<br/><br/>"I can't get undressed by myself." She blushed a little as April came charging into the room in response to her cry. "I can do the top part easily enough, but  pants are just a pain. And I'm probably going to go commando from now on!" As April eased the pyjamas off, she mentioned skirts. "I was thinking the same thing. Except it still leaves me sitting on the skirt and needing an extra hand to pull it up with... Hmm. Cross that bridge, eh?"<br/><br/>Undressed, she eased herself into the shower seat. It was a lot easier than she thought it would be, and was actually reasonably comfortable. She pushed the chair out of the shower to keep it dry but also within reach, then looked up at April, as the girl asked if she needed help showering. "Um... I... Don't know yet. Probably? Could you stick around just in case?"<br/><br/>The shower controls were right there to hand and she yelped as an initial spray of freezing water landed on her. It quickly warmed up though. "Ah... Where's my shampoo?"