This was going to be an excruciatingly long process. Showering always was for Hubert. Placing himself in such a vulnerable position always caused him distress; no clothes, hot soapy water causing an imminent slipping hazard, the sound of pounding water dulling his hearing. The combinations of hindrances put him at an alarming disadvantage. However, Hubert knew he could not forgo showering.
He would wait until very few people were around to enter the showers. That may be late at night, or sometimes he would skip group to shower. Hubert hoped that their preoccupation with sleep or therapy would keep them away from the showers long enough for him to clean up.
Then he would start his process. There were four showers, three regular ones and one wheelchair accessible one. Each shower had two shower curtains. One to block off a changing area and one to keep the water from getting everywhere. This would be the first hurdle. Hubert would check behind each curtain, to make sure no one was lurking behind one. Then he would open all the curtains wide, so it would be harder for someone to sneak in and hide behind one without him noticing.
The next hurdle was checking the functionality of the appliances. He would make sure the fan was running, twisting the timer on the wall if it wasn't. Hubert would listen to the fan for a moment, waiting to see if the blades spun smoothly and consistently. This would ensure that air would flow out of the bathroom if someone tried to gass him. Then he would check all the drain covers, making sure they were screwed in tight. They would be his only defence against stray bullets if someone decided to try and shove a sniper up the drain and shoot him.
The last hurdle would be to place a metal can on the floor by the main door of the bathroom. It wouldn't prevent anyone from entering, but he would hear them knock the can over if they did. Then he would finally seclude himself in a shower, the one furthest from the door so he would have time to react if someone entered. Hubert would set up his soaps in the most convenient place, and ready his towel.
Stripping as fast as he could, he jumped into the shower. Spinning the dial on, water started spraying down from overhead. The cold water hit him like a shot, but the less time he was indisposed the better. Hubert would scrub systematically, top to bottom, not missing anything and not hitting anything twice. The second he was satisfactorily rinsed, he would shut off the water and grab his prepared towel. He would dry off just enough so that he wouldn't soak his clothes, and then dress himself.
The whole endeavor took less than five minutes. Then Hubert would be free to make one last sweep of the bathroom, rechecking that no one was lurking in the shadows, and he would go. Once he left the bathroom, Hubert breathed a sigh of relief. Only after he was back in his room did he start to realize that he had been holding his breath for a good portion of his shower.
He felt a little silly. Hubert had been learning of ways to combat his paranoia. Mr. Dr. Eisner had taught him to gently remind himself that his thoughts were "not likely to be true." He no longer chastised himself for being ridiculous or crazy, and Mr. Dr. Eisner told him to be proud of that. It was a sign of excellent progress. Yet, all that progress seemed to fly out the window the moment Hubert needed to take a shower.
Hubert grit his teeth and tried very hard not to beat himself up over his showering routine.