The Diving Bell and the Butterfly: Bathtime Summary & Analysis

Each morning at eight-thirty, Bauby’s physical therapist Brigitte arrives to exercise his arms and legs. Bauby feels the exercise, which is called “mobilization,” is useless—he has lost “sixty-six pounds in just twenty weeks.” Still, Bauby is able to see the irony of the fact that he started a diet the week before his stroke, hoping to lose some weight.

Though Brigitte tries to get Bauby to squeeze his fingers as hard as he can, he cannot move his limbs. In a new development, he can turn his head about ninety degrees and can open his mouth about enough to insert a lollipop between his lips. As the physical therapy session ends and Brigitte massages his face, Bauby feels comforted by the ritual.

Bauby admits that he finds it at least “amusing”—and sometimes even comforting—that, at forty-five years old, he is back to having his “bottom wiped and swaddled like a newborn.” He feels a sense of “guilty pleasure from this total lapse into infancy” some days—but other days he is painfully depressed by the state of his health, especially during his weekly bath. Each week, being sponged down, Bauby is reminded of the luxurious baths he used to love taking—soaks during which he’d drink good Scotch and read for hours. As he recalls his old life, he is “cruelly” aware of his new one.