Beckys Journal Collection -- (Author) BeckyInconDL

[llsadmin]

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Author: BeckyInconDL
Timestamp: Jun 16, 2017 at 5:47 PM
Content: I have decided to post a few of my stories with being DL’s and incontinent.

To learn more about me check out my introduction post. ---> https://www.adisc.org/forum/showthread. ... o-everyone

Becky’s Journal Collection - 1
Introduction to Diapers

When I first found out about the tumor I was scared as hell. I didn’t know what to expect. Luckily, I had great friends that help me through it. Unfortunately the tumor was destructive. I was left with only a small portion of my bladder and no muscle control. They were able to repair what they could but I was going to need medical equipment the rest of my life.

Seven times. That’s the number of times, in the first month, I had a mishap with the bag and catheter they installed in/on me. I work in a marketing firm and give presentations and meet with clients often. The final straw was the day I decided to go back to the doctor.

I was in the conference room and had felt dehydrated all day. I had been watching my intake levels as the doctor had said, but this presentation was taking a long time. The client had a BUNCH of questions. I had to empty my bag at a maximum of about every couple of hours. Well this was just over an hour into the meeting when the bag filled too full and the connector popped off. It went everywhere. I was wearing a skirt, so it mostly looked like my water had just broke. I was mortified. I was luckily standing in the back of the room talking while everyone faced forward away from me looking at the projector screen. There was pee everywhere on me. Running down my legs, into my shoes, all over the floor. I tapped my assistant on the shoulder and told her I needed to step out. She knew about my condition and was a good friend. She saw the puddle on the floor and then my legs . Quickly, she took over and started handing out papers to draw everyone's attention as I stepped out.

I went to my office and grabbed my coat and put it on. I waited until I was in the elevator for the parking garage before I broke down crying. I was sobbing all the way to my car and went home. It was late in the day, but I called my doctor and he said to come see him in the morning. I was halfway home when Shelly called. (Assistant) She asked if I was OK and I told her I was going back to the doctor in the morning. That I couldn’t do this anymore. I felt like I was living in fear all the time. She comforted me for a bit of the drive then said she would be over in just a bit.

I got home and changed into comfy clothes. I went to bed. I just wanted the day to be over. Shelly showed up around 7 with some wine and chocolate. We talked for a bit and she asked why I keep using the bag if I hate it. I explained it was really the only way to keep my life going. She stared for a bit and then asked if I had ever considered just using diapers.

She said diapers. At first, I laughed then when I realized she wasn't kidding, I was a little hurt. Why would she say that. Grown young adults don’t need diapers. She went on to explain that after her sister had her third baby, a very large boy, it damaged her muscles. She wears protective underwear and briefs. The muscles tore and scar tissue formed preventing her from ever gaining all control. She now just wears them instead to keeping up with this whole routine of how far away the bathrooms are and always worrying. I listened, but sort of disregarded it. That might be ok for a housewife, but I am a single woman on track in my career. I didn’t pay much attention to the conversation after that. I was wrapping my head around a grown woman wearing diapers at less than 30 years old and the wine was getting to me. I told Shelly I was going to head to bed and that I will probably take the next couple days off. She agreed, told me she would take care of stuff at the office and that she would let appointments know of any schedule changes. Shelly left and I went to bed.

The next morning I awoke from a restless sleep to my phone ringing. It was my doctor's office and they said they had me put down for late morning. I got up and pulled myself together enough to go in. My doctor listened to everything. How I hated that I was in constant terror, that I was uncomfortable all the time, that I was completely antisocial, and that I just couldn’t live like this anymore as I bordered depression. He wrote everything down and then asked what I needed or expected in order to be more comfortable. I sat for a while. It had to be minutes. At least it felt like minutes. I lifted my head and looked at him. He was tapping his pen against his other hand. “To get rid of this bag.” I said it like I had never been more sure of anything. He stop tapping the pen. As if someone had pulled the gears from a clock's pendulum. He was quiet and then sat up in his chair and said, “Becky, you know you can’t do that. It is the only thing that you can use to manage your condition.” I sat there for a few minutes. Just staring at him. He was writing in the file and just as he was about to speak, it came out of my mouth. “What about protective underwear.”

It almost squeaked out of me. He stopped again. He leaned back. He asked me why I was reconsidering. I had been so against using anything like that when I first was told about my condition. I broke down. I was crying. Almost hysterically. I told him about what happened at work and the previous few incidents and that I couldn’t live like this. He sat there as I cried. Finally, I was able to reel myself in. He asked if this is what i really wanted. I explained that I would like to at least try it to see if it is better for me. He looked at me then grabbed his prescription pad. He explained that he has had plenty of patience use undergarments to manage incontinence. Both of those words I wasn’t ready for. I cringed. He looked up and said that protective underwear wasn’t going to do the trick. That with the damage I had, combined with the catheter and bag use, I was going to need heavier protection or I would be in the same boat worrying about leas and wear and when to change. He explained that the insurance companies don’t allow for doctors to supply premium products. He said but these will get you by for a few days. He gave me a card for a premium supplier that sells premium products. He said to remove the catheter just as if I was changing it and to leave it out. We wrapped up the visit and he gave me the scrip. I left feeling anxious, scared, liberated, and worried.

I got to the pharmacy just after lunch. It was pretty deserted and I gave the scrip up at the window. The man behind the counter looked at me and then had one of the younger women behind him escort me to the isle with incontinence supplies. She gave me her recommendation all while I was mortified and blushing, not making eye contact, and keeping my head down. She stopped and asked if I was ok. I looked up and told her I was embarrassed by all this. She said I shouldn’t be. It's a health issue. No different than needing medicine for a cold or meds for a disease. This one is just more physical than others. She grabbed what I needed and pulled a cardboard box out of the back. I thanked her and left.

I made my way home and when I got into the house, I went to work. I won’t gross you out with the details, but after about 20 mins of struggle post catheter removal, I have the “undergarment” on. I wasn't ready to call them diapers just yet. It was about an hour later. When I got up to grab a snack when I noticed the wetness. It wasn’t like all over when the bag breaks, but contained, but cold. I looked in the bathroom mirror and saw the wetness. At first I was disgusted. Then I thought of the pharmacy assistant. I had nothing to be ashamed of, I kept telling myself. I didn’t know how long they would last. How much they could hold or honestly anything. I did the only thing I thought I could, I called Shelly.

Shelly got to my house after about an hour. She was glad I had chosen a new route and was more than willing to help. I had lots of questions about how to manage. She said the best person to ask was her sister. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to bring another person in on this experiment though. She said she would take notes of my questions and ask for me without telling her sister who she was asking for. I thought about the assistant again. No. I was a grown woman capable of handling my problems. I didn’t get to where I was sitting around feeling sorry for myself. I wasn’t about to start hiding now. I told Shelly to call her up and invite her over. She wasn’t available to come over but said that we were welcome to come to her. I accepted and Shelly and I left after I changed.

When we pulled up, I was surprised. That house was nice. Well kept and everything. Never had thought about this kind of life before as a city person, but it looked peaceful. We walked into a well kept and nice home. Sandra was putting things together for dinner and the only child not in school was sleeping. Shelly introduced us. I went on to explain why I was there. She looked as uncomfortable about it as I did. I stopped talking for a minute and explained that Shelly had been such a huge help and if it hadn’t been for her, I wouldn’t even be considering a new path of management. Sandra sat down at the kitchen table and poured us all some coffee. She went on to tell me her stories and how she got to where she is now. I asked questions about ‘what if’ scenarios, what to use, what to buy, how her husband handled it, etc. She was remarkably open about it.

She explained like me she grew tired of the constant worry. The stress had her gaining lots of weight, she was very irritable, and hated dealing with not being able to enjoy her time out. She found that ‘diapers’ were her best route to independence. It was the first time I had heard her say diapers. I probably shifted uncomfortably, because she picked up on my body language. She explained that there is nothing to be ashamed of. That is what they were and that she was no longer ashamed. There were some people that knew and she was not going to let her incontinence control her life anymore.

I sat and listened for a long time as Shelly played with her nephew. She walked me to her bedroom and to her closet. In it was a tall thin cupboard. She pulled the slide lock at the top of the door and opened it up. I was shocked. There were so many. She had a few different kinds, but the majority were bags that said ‘Abena’ on them. She went on to explain that each kind had a purpose. That she wore the pull on style when she jogged, the ‘Abena’ for everyday use and the Dry 24/7’s were for the nights or when travelling. She sometimes wore them for times when she knew she wouldn't be able to change for a long while.

It was so insightful. She gave me basically everything I needed. She touched my shoulder and asked if I had anymore questions. I just shook my head. She chuckled a bit then reached into the cupboard. She pulled out a bag of the Abenas and a few of the Dry 24/7’s. She handed them to me. I looked at her and she explained I could replace them when I ordered my own. I agreed and took the supplies to the kitchen. Shelly smiled when we came in. She grabbed the supplies and put them in my car. I talked with Sandra for a few more minutes and she told me if I ever have any more questions to let her know. I gave her my card and she wrote her info on the back of one for me. She told me to start doing research. That knowing about my condition inside and out is the best way to find the best management. She mentioned she had gotten a lot of help from a few support groups online and told me to look around and find a place for me to vent, learn, and accept myself. Once I had done that, I would be able to move on with my life. I thanked her with a hug and left.

At home Shelly helped me unpack and with a hug left as well. She said to take a couple more days and to let her know if she needed anything. I asked her to show me how to order these supplies. She took the card from the doctor's office and told me she would take care of it. I gave her one last hug and she left. I took the supplies to my room and took out one of the Abenas and put it on. With that I opened a bottle of wine and started on a book to try an relax. After about an hour I checked my undergarment and went to bed, thinking about how my life was about to change for the better.