Patiently Helping Lisa -- (Author) JDCH

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Author: JDCH
Timestamp: May 26, 2023 at 9:17 PM
Content: I posted elements of this story years ago on ADISC but it has disappeared. Here are Chapters 1-4. Happy to hear comments and criticisms....

Prologue

“ . . . Miss . . . Miss . . . Can you hear me, miss? Miss, what’s your name? Miss . . . Miss . . . you’ve been in an accident. Can you tell me your name?”

- fade to black -

“ . . . Female, late 20s to early 30s, restrained MVA head on. Air bag deployed. Vitals are strong but she’s got an open head injury and possibly some internal bleeding. She’s got crunchy ribs, compound fractures to both arms and both legs. Other driver was pronounced on scene . . .”

- fade to black -

“ . . . Miss, can you hear me? Can you follow the light with your eyes? Miss . . .”

Chapter One

“Jesus, this gal’s a mess,” said the ER resident. “How fast was she going?”

“Speed limit, maybe a bit over,” replied the accompanying cop. “Another driver, probably drunk, actually managed to flip his car off the overpass. This poor girl had the bad luck of being underneath when the first car hit. We’ve got people picking up pieces of the other guy.”

“I thought the paramedic said it was a head-on MVA,” the doc said.

“Well, it was for one of them,” the cop replied.

Eddie Lee shot the cop a look to no avail. In 12 years of emergency room medicine at metropolitan hospitals all over the country, Lee knew cops could have a pretty dark and crass way of describing the human wreckage they often had to deal with. He also knew doctors and nurses weren’t much better.

“Cut her clothes off. Let’s see what we’ve got,” Dr. Lee ordered the trauma team.

The Golden Hour to save the patient’s life was mostly eaten up trying to get her out of the wreckage of her car. Lee noted the patient’s wedding band and could see the odds of telling a husband that he was a widower were not in his favour.

“Doctor, there’s something you should see,” said one of the nurses. Lee couldn’t tell which one, it was either Jen Doherty or Meredith Cook. They had similar voices and unlike other doctors, he had never perfected the art of seeing who was behind the mask.

Lee moved closer to see what had caught her attention. It was Doherty.

“What do you have?”

“I was cutting off her clothes and when I went through her pants with the scissors, I saw this,” she said as she peeled back the surgical drape. It hadn’t really been necessary but Lee understood immediately why she had used it.

“Hmmm . . . she does seem young for bladder trouble but it’s not unheard of,” he said. “Maybe something else? See if you can find that cop and let’s get an ID on her. Maybe we can get in touch with the patient’s doctor. Let’s see why she’s wearing an incontinence brief.” Then he added, “We’re going to cath her anyway, so it probably isn’t of much concern for us at the moment.”

*****

“Miss Burrell, how are you?” asked Angie Patel. “You gave us quite a scare.”

Anjali Patel – Anj to her family and friends – had been an ICU nurse at St. Peter’s for two decades and figured she had at least another to go before retirement was feasible. Or her back gave out first.

“Uh . . . what happened?” asked the patient, still groggy from a combination of anesthetic and trauma. Her mouth was moving but he couldn’t follow much of what Anj said.

“Miss Burrell, stay with me now. The doctor is going to be by to see you in a little while. She’ll fill you in on what happened and what they had to do.” She wasn’t sure how much she’d heard but she went about checking her IV drip and dressings, as well as the various sundry things nurses do.

An hour later, as promised, a doctor walked through the door, flanked by a gaggle of med students. Dr. Liz Thompson, as was her practice, read the patient file while she walked.

“Nice to see you awake, Miss Burrell,” she said.

“Lisa . . . ,” she managed to eek out, a little more able to follow conversation. “My name is Lisa.”

“Okay, Lisa, please don’t try and talk too much. You were intubated and your throat will hurt quite a bit for the next few days,” Thompson said. “I don’t know how much you are aware of what happened but you were in a severe car accident and in pretty rough shape. Dr. Lee in the ER said he thought you were unlikely to make it.”

Dr. Thompson inadvertently paused for a moment while the gravity of the situation sunk in for Lisa.

“You sustained head injuries and some internal bleeding. That was the major cause of concern. You will probably have headaches and trouble concentrating for a while but this should clear up over the next few weeks.

“We also noted some bruising to your internal organs but they should heal on their own in time. So will the broken bones. You are going to be in a lot of pain for quite some time and you will become very well acquainted with the physiotherapy department. But overall, I would have to say your prognosis is good but guarded.”

Lisa nodded as Dr. Thompson gave her run down.

“Now, in a day or so, provided all goes well, you’ll be moved off the ICU and into a regular hospital room. A few weeks after that, depending on how your legs are healing, your catheter will be removed as well,” she said.

It hadn’t occurred to Lisa that she even had a catheter in.

“Which brings me to my next point: when you were brought into the ER, the staff there removed you clothes and noted that you were wearing an incontinence brief. When we were able to get in touch with your family physician, he said there was nothing in your medical record about incontinence issues and you’ve never been referred to a uro-gynecologist. I understand that a lot of incontinent people are embarrassed and never tell their doctor about this, but it is important that medical professionals know about such things. I’m not a urologist myself but I understand there are a lot of things that can be done to alleviate this problem. Do you want to talk about this?”

Lisa’s face reddened as she looked at Dr. Thompson and the med students behind her. Dr. Thompson seemed professional but her bedside manner did not encourage Lisa to want to discuss this with her. With the audience of baby docs behind her, less so.

“Well, we don’t have to talk about this now but we’ll need to know how to proceed once we take the catheter out,” Dr. Thompson said. “Perhaps, if you are more comfortable, you can have a word with Nurse Patel when you are ready. Either way, we’re here to help you get better.”

A few minutes later, Dr. Thompson and her entourage left the room. Lisa Burrell had some thinking to do.

*****

“Okay, so you’re a bedwetter. But you were wearing a brief while you were driving, is that right?” Angie asked.

Lisa nodded, adding, “It’s more complicated than that. I’ve been a bedwetter since I was a kid. Not every night but enough that I eventually just gave up the idea of staying dry and decided to wear diapers to bed rather than having to change wet sheets three, four, five times a week.”

Angie understood this. Her niece had grown up with the same problem but, as far as Angie knew, had eventually outgrown it as most people do.

“Okay, that still doesn’t get to why you were wearing diapers during the evening but before going to bed,” Angie asked.

Lisa squirmed, unsettled by Angie’s question.

“Well, I’ve worn them for so long that even during the day, I now feel kind of . . . naked, I guess, without them,” Lisa finally replied. “Plus, I have been known to dribble during the day from time to time.”

Angie looked at Lisa’s chart, noting that she had never bore children. It also reminded her that Lisa was wearing a wedding ring when she was admitted but no husband had come to visit and Lisa hadn’t made any mention of one.

“Lisa, you’re married, right?” Angie asked.

“For a few more months, anyway,” Lisa replied. She then told Angie that her husband, Kevin, wasn’t able to cope with a diapered wife, despite his promises early in their courtship that he loved her unconditionally. She knew she was making a mistake when he put his head under the skirt of her wedding dress to remove her garter and purposely flashed her diaper to those gathered round to witness the archaic spectacle. Fortunately, the flip of her skirt had been quick and no one seemed to notice but that was her first clue that the man she married just hours earlier wasn’t the man he said he would be. “I imagine I should get the divorce certificate just in time for the New Year.”

*****

“Lisa,” Dr. Thompson said. “I’ve spoken to Nurse Patel about your conversation yesterday. Because you are a bedwetter and have said that you suffer from occasional daytime incontinence, we’re going to diaper you once I remove the catheter. Besides, the normal toileting routine would put too much stress on where your legs were fractured. You would just end up rebreaking the knitted bone at this point.”

Lisa nodded.

“I suspect we would be doing that regardless as most people do experience some leakage after having a catheter removed anyway, but it is usually only for a day or so,” Dr. Thompson said. “Because you will have been catheterized for an extended period, I would expect that you will have little, if any, control, at least for the immediate future.

“And, because of your broken arms, the nursing staff will be responsible for changing you, as necessary.”

Lisa nodded again.

“Now, here’s the issue,” Thompson continued. “The painkillers you’ve been on tend to constipate patients, but constipation tends to exacerbate incontinence issues. We’ll give you stool softeners but that also presents problems. The reality is that you will probably have to defecate in your brief. You won’t be able to make it to the bathroom on your own and having broken arms will make using a bedpan difficult, if not impossible given your pelvis. The nurses will make every effort to make it in time to help you but they are overworked and may not be able to do so. You need to be prepared for that.”

Tears well in Lisa’s eyes. Dealing with bedwetting and occasional daytime issues were tough enough. Soiling herself and being changed by a stranger were quite another.

*****

Lisa pressed the button to summon the nurse. Her diaper was wet, there was no doubt of that, but she felt the urge to move her bowels. Within seconds, a nurse and orderly were at her bedside and helping her into the wheelchair and into the bathroom. She hadn’t seen either before and she didn’t look forward to revealing her condition to either one. Once the orderly helped lift her onto the toilet, he left the room while the nurse removed Lisa’s wet diaper. Lisa and the nurse waited for nature to take its course.

‘C’mon,’ thought Lisa, ‘This is taking forever.’ The urge was there but after three days she hadn’t been able to move her bowels. The nurse looked at her chart and noticed the same thing.

“I think it’s time,” she said.

“I know,” said Lisa. “I was just hoping . . .”

"Yeah, I know honey but this is just a reality of painkillers. I’ll get the kit,” she said, leaving the room.

‘Damn it,’ thought Lisa. ‘Damn it, damn it, damn it.’

The nurse returned a few moments later with an enema kit.

By the third bag, Lisa knew they were going to achieve what they both desired but with so much liquid in her colon, the results were probably to be expected. After an hour of sitting on the toilet, the pins and needles sensation in her legs had transitioned into excruciating pain.

Chapter Two

Anjali sat in her armchair, a glass of red in her hand and her laptop opened. She had decided to do some digging into Lisa’s situation. Her education had been as swift if a little unsettling. She expected to find information on neurogenic bladders, cauda equina and the like but hadn’t known about people who wore diapers for pleasure or comfort.

Another hour and another glass of wine later, Anjali decided to call her niece.

“Maya, it’s Auntie Anj.”

“Hello, love. I was just thinking of you the other day and chastised myself for not calling you. Looks like you beat me to the punch,” Maya said.

With two young children under five at home and another on the way, Anjali understood that Maya’s time was a precious commodity and free moments were few and far between. After some catching up and general chit-chat, Anjali decided it was time to bring up the point of her call.

“Maya, I want to ask you something. I hope it isn’t uncomfortable for you but will understand if it is,” she said.

"Okay, go ahead. If it’s too personal, I’ll just say so.”

Anjali relayed as much of Lisa’s story to her niece as professional ethics would permit, possibly a bit more than she should have, given the wine. When she was finished, she asked Maya if Lisa’s story sounded true.

“It’s hard to say, of course,” Maya started, clearly a little uncomfortable with exposing an aspect of her life she didn’t share with many others. “But from what you’ve said, I think she might like wearing diapers much more than she’s let on. Assuming the incontinence is real, it sounds a bit like overkill to me.”

“How so?”

“Well, the fact that she was wearing a full brief during the day, even with her accidents,” Maya said. “Unless it was a full bladder void as opposed to a squirt here or a squirt there, she could probably just as easily wear a pad or a pull-up, whatever is needed, then the diaper at night. That’s what I do.”

Anjali thought about this for a moment then stopped. Had Maya said ‘I’ or ‘I’d’? Anj wasn’t sure what she’d heard.

“Sorry, hon, but did I hear you correctly? Did you say ‘I’, as in it is happening right now?”

Maya laughed, “Well, not right at this very instant, I don’t think – I’m not giving a play-by-play – but yeah, this is something I’ve never really outgrown, particularly after having two kids and being pregnant again.”

The moment hung in the air a little too long and Anj suddenly wasn’t sure where to go. Maya, sensing that her favourite aunt was stuck, offered up some background.

“Look, it’s not a big deal. Really. I was a bedwetter when I was a kid. After a time, everyone just assumed I outgrew it and my parents were smart enough and kind enough to let everyone think so,” Maya said. “That isn’t to say there weren’t issues. I’ve never been to a sleepover and when I was in university, I had to fill out the Special Needs form for a residence room. Now THAT was humiliating. The girl they paired me with was incontinent due to spina bifida. Let’s just say there weren’t many boys entertained in our room.”

Anjali smiled. She had always admired her niece’s forthrightness and sense of humour.

“What about dating,” Anj asked?

“There wasn’t really anything to speak of,” Maya said. “The few times a boy tried to put his hand down there, I just told him I was on my period. Those huge maxis they used to sell were close enough that no one would really know the difference, particularly a naïve boy. Plus, all I had to do was say the word ‘period’ and most guys would stop in their tracks anyway.”

Anj smiled again. Males the world over pretty well had the same reaction to something most women dealt with from late childhood to their early senior years.

“So what about Ray,” Anjali asked, referring to Maya’s husband.

Now it was Maya’s turn to pause.

“Well . . . I just got tired of being lonely . . . and I was being driven mad by being around someone I was desperately in love with. Plus, because we’d known each other through friends, I knew that he was a decent guy, and I just had a sense that he was the kind of man I could trust.

“Having said that, I took things very slow, much more than I wanted to and certainly slower than he wanted to. I just asked him to be patient. During our third date – when everyone just sort of expects you’ll end up in bed and in a fully-formed relationship – I told him that I had bladder troubles and had to wear protection. He was very kind – I knew he would be – and asked me a few questions about what ‘protection’ entailed. Honestly, I almost barfed in his lap but it was a fair question, so I screwed up my courage and gave him an honest account of what I wore. Since then, he’s been nothing but supportive of me.”

Anjali was glad her niece had found a good man and thought about Lisa and her husband.

“Thanks, hon,” Anjali said. “I appreciate your honesty. I hope it helps me with this patient.”

“No problem,” said Maya. “Now, when are we going to see you again . . . ?”

Chapter Three

It took almost a week for Lisa’s husband to show up. Immediately Anj knew the kind of man he was. Short, spindly thin with mean eyes and no chin, Hollywood couldn’t have cast a more stereotypical bully yet here he was, in all his glory.

“Hello, you must be Kevin,” Anjali said, keeping it professional.

“Yeah,” he replied, not bothering to make eye contact.

“I’m glad you’ve come to see Lisa. She’s been lonely and in need of some familiar faces,” Anj said. She didn’t get a response.

Kevin continued to slouch in his chair, arms folded across his chest, while Lisa slept, exhausted from the morning’s physio.

“So, how much is this costing per day,” Kevin asked?

Anjali said that she wasn’t sure but the billing department could give him a better sense, particularly if insurance wouldn’t be covering the bill. She wasn’t certain Kevin even cared about the answer.

She was grateful for the fact that Kevin seemed equally disinterested in Lisa’s injuries as she wasn’t certain of what the ethics in this situation were. Yes, they were still married but Anjali also knew that the union was all but dissolved but for the signature of a judge.

Lisa started to stir at the sound of the voices in her room.

“Good morning, love,” Anjali said, adding, “Oh, I guess I should make that afternoon. Lunch should be served any moment, so your timing is impeccable.”

“Well, must be nice. Like a bloody hotel, then,” Kevin said. Lisa hadn’t realized anyone was there and blanched at the sound of her husband’s voice.

“Uh, hi,” Lisa said, her voice sotto voce. The occasional ER rotation had left Anjali well familiar with that kind of response when a man intimidates a woman to the point of meekness.

It was clear Lisa did not want Kevin in her room but she didn’t have the strength to order her husband out.

“Kevin, we have a few things to take care of in here,” Anj said. “Why don’t you go to the cafeteria and get yourself a coffee?”

Kevin sprung from his chair like a kid hearing the dismissal bell on the last day of school, barely looking back at Lisa and Anj.

“Well then, let’s get you changed before lunch gets here,” Anj said as she pulled the privacy curtain. As expected, Lisa’s diaper was wet to the point of near saturation. Anj pulled the diaper away and slid a fresh one underneath in a nearly seamless motion. She then used a diaper wipe on Lisa and applied some barrier cream to her genitals before taping the diaper.

“Can I ask you a personal question?”

Lisa knew what was coming and nodded in assent.

“Do you want him here?”

Lisa wiped tears away before saying that he could stay for an hour but after that, he should leave. Anj said she could make that happen.

Chapter Four

As the days blended together, Lisa and Anjali became something like friends, though professionalism meant that, while in Anjali’s care, that was all it could be. Anjali had never given a great deal of thought to changing a patient’s diapers any more than she would have had she been changing a baby. It was a part of the job and it had to be done, done well and done with the dignity of the patient top-of-mind.

She was old enough to remember when women’s menstrual products were thick, large and had to be secured with a belt. She’d been young then but remembered her mother, aunts and older cousins referring to them as nappies, the term still used by her relatives in England. Still, it was better than the rags some of her cousins in India used when Aunt Flo came to visit.

By the time Anjali started her period, pads with adhesive strips were available so she never had to deal with the dreaded belts but the pads were still half an inch thick and not too comfortable. Diaper-like was often used to describe them.

She’d heard of some women, particularly those with endometriosis, who wore pull-up style briefs to control their bleeding but hadn’t given a lot of thought to women – and men, she realized – who maintain otherwise normal, busy lives while dealing with significant leakage of any sort. Then she remembered the episode of Grey’s Anatomy where Dr. Yang and another surgeon, Chyler maybe, had worn pull-ups to get through a lengthy surgery. She smiled at thought. It seemed ridiculous at the time but now maybe not as much.

*****

Thankfully Lisa’s husband was an infrequent presence. On the rare occasions he did visit, he cast a dreadful pall over the room. Moods immediately darkened. It had been almost a week since he’d last visited so Anjali found she was girding herself for his next visit.

“Good day, love,” Anjali said upon entering Lisa’s room. Lisa’s mobility had been improving but she still needed some fairly basic help. Anjali changed her and cleaned her up, brushing her hair and helping her wash her face.

“I saw that you’ve been added to the physio schedule starting tomorrow,” she said. “At least you’ll be doing something other than staring at these four walls.”

Lisa said, “The doctor mentioned that. I’m really not sure what I will be able to do but I guess it’s a good idea.”

She was nervous that a physical therapy room would risk exposing her secret to the world. At least a greater subsection than currently knew.

“I can’t imagine doing exercises in a hospital gown, with the back wide open,” she said. “What will I be wearing, do you know?”

“I’ll check but I imagine you’ll have two gowns on, one the regular way and the other backward. I’ll see if I can get some pajama pants for you too,” Anjali said. “The physiotherapist will be well-briefed on your needs and there will be a nurse on hand if you need changing or any help.

“Maybe I’ll pop in today to find out who you will be working with and make certain they know you are under my protection,” Anj added with a smile. Her patients really were that important to her.

Lisa got the joke and thanked her for her attentiveness.

“I guess I should tell you that my husband won’t be coming around anymore,” Lisa said.

Anjali tried not to let the relief show on her face.

“I could tell how uncomfortable he was making everyone and it’s not like he was here because he loved me,” Lisa added.

While Anjali had never been married, she couldn’t imagine trying to plan a life with someone so devoid of any redeeming qualities.

“I am sorry for what you are going through, all of it, but I hope you’ll be happier for it in the end,” Anjali said, feeling a bit foolish at offering the clichéd platitude.

*****

The visit to the physiotherapy department produced the results Anjali had been expecting. They were pros and had certainly dealt with patients with all kinds of deficits quite ably in the past. The only thing that gave Anjali pause was the mention that some of the work they were doing would be quite strenuous and it was suggested that the usual brands of hospital diapers would probably not be up to the task.

Anjali had certainly heard others, both patients and nursing staff, refer to the hospital-quality briefs as “paper towels with tapes” but generally found any leakage issues were more as a result of an over-burdened nursing staff, particularly on the night shift. It hadn’t really occurred to her that there were premium brands on the market.

“Oh yes,” laughed Cheryl Stevens, the head of physio. “Do some research. You’ll get quite an education. Particularly about the ABDL world.”

*****

Cheryl had not been wrong.

The deep dive into the world of adult incontinence products had indeed been informative. Anjali knew there was a segment of the population in the world who enjoyed wearing these products and some who enjoyed acting like babies and toddlers. Anyone who’d spent a few rotations in ER knew that there were people who enjoyed all manner of things that others would call . . . unconventional.

One of the more interesting surprises was a lengthy interview with a manager of a large pulp and paper company who commented that it was the ABDL market that had really spurred innovation in the market that was migrating over to their premium incontinence lines.

‘If you go back 25 years, nobody had heard of this fetish and nobody gave much thought to incontinence products,’ he was quoted as saying. ‘Hell, back then a decent product was really a barely absorbent maxi pad with elastic and buttons. They were horrible and leaked almost as much as they absorbed.

‘Users were too embarrassed to admit they needed a product like that so as an industry we thought we were doing a great job. It never even occurred to us that you could pay people to try the product and give their feedback,’ he added. ‘It worked in every other industry but because of the stigma, we just assumed that no one wanted to talk about it and we thought we were doing a great job.’

Anjali read on, fascinated how the rise of the Internet had led to a confluence of falling stigmas in both the incontinence and ABDL world. People were now much more open to the idea of talking about their real lives, regardless of the opinions of others. Then something caught her eye . . .

‘Today, when we hire someone in our marketing and comms team in the continence division, we encourage them to try all of our products for a weekend. It’s on the honour system, of course, but we are of the belief that you can’t really know a product unless you have used it in your real life,’ he said.

‘Everyone is a little hesitant at first – that’s common and natural. But, for the most part, people are good sports and often come back saying they were better for the experience.’

Huh. For all the years of nursing, helping people when they were helpless, it hadn’t occurred to Anjali that lived experience is often the best experience. Was she really considering this? It’s not like there would be any harm, maybe just some slight embarrassment. It’s not like she would be using the products, right?

Anjali picked up the phone.

“Hi. I have a really silly question so please don’t ask me why,” she said.

“Um, okay, I am intrigued,” said Maya.

“If I were to ask you for some of your briefs, would you be able to help?” Anjali asked.

“For your patient? Sure,” Maya replied. “Why would you think that was silly.”

After a pause, “Well . . . what if I was to say it wasn’t for my patient?”

“Oh. Oh, I see,” Maya replied. “Are you having trouble, auntie?”

“No. No, I am doing as well as any fifty-something woman,” Anjali said. “My trampoline jumping days are far behind me. It’s more that I am meant to be giving the benefit of my experience but I don’t really have any to speak of in this sense.

“I get there are some things that you can’t reasonably expect to have go through but I thought that if you have the opportunity to speak knowledgably, you should probably take it,” Anjali said.

“Wise, auntie. Very wise,” Maya said. “Then you can jump on all the trampolines you like!”

The two women made plans to go for Anjali to come for dinner on the weekend.

*****

“What’s in the bag?”

Maya could never understand how men like Ray couldn’t find ketchup in the fridge but the one time you wanted to be discreet, that was the time they became hyper-aware.

“It’s just something to give to my aunt,” Maya said, hoping Ray would let it drop.

“Well, I guess she is getting older,” he added.

“Hey, buster! Who are you calling old?”

*****

Dinner went well and the two women curled up on the couch in front of the fireplace, enjoying the snap, crackle and pop as the hardwoods did their thing. Snow had been forecast for the evening but Anjali had planned to be home before the worst of it hit.

They were enjoying some alone time after dinner. Ray had taken the kids up for a bath and stories before bedtime. He had the sense to know that this evening wasn’t about him, so he’d retire to the bedroom to watch a movie or a game.

“So . . . I get that this is kind of a crazy idea,” Anj started. “Honestly, I am not even certain of the ethics of this . . .”

“What are your concerns?”

“Every day our patients go through ordeals that we can empathize with but do not have lived experience,” Anj said. “If I have a diabetic patient who is insulin dependent, I don’t inject myself just to see what the experience is like.”

“Ah,” said Maya. “But I think you are looking at this backward. Insulin is a medicine that someone needs to survive. A diaper is not something someone needs as much as it makes their life that much better. That’s where I think most people who don’t have to deal with it struggle – if I am going to wet myself, which is a given, I would rather pee into a diaper that is designed to absorb and hold it without alerting everyone around me, rather than have it run down my legs and into my shoes. You know how protective I am about my shoes!”

Maya continued, “Ultimately, it’s just a different kind of underwear. Some people where thongs, others wear bikinis and some wear granny panties that cover their belly buttons.”

Anjali thought for a while, considering the implications of what was said.

“Are they comfortable?”

“Mostly,” Maya replied. “It varies by brand and by user preference. Some like the plastic backed, others prefer the cloth-backed. Some are very soft while others are kind of rock hard, particularly when wet. Those are the ones I avoid.”

Maya got up to make some tea, knowing that her aunt planned to leave within the hour and that she should be cognizant of the wine, particularly in view of the weather. Glancing out her kitchen window, she realized the snow had started earlier, and had come on much heavier, than predicted. She opened the weather app on her phone to see that there was a Weather Warning and that police were advising against any non-essential travel.

“I think we have a small problem,” she said to Anj.

“What do you mean?”

“I think you might be spending the night,” Maya replied, showing her phone to her aunt.

“Oh, that’s not good. Not good at all.”

*****

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Author: JDCH
Timestamp: May 28, 2023 at 2:52 AM
Content:

kerry said:

Enjoyable story so far! When was it previously here? I don't recognize it at all and I've been moderator here for a decade.

[End of quote]

I am embarrassed to admit this but I started it in 2011. Been through a few life changes since and even lost the flash drive I stored it on. I am going to say I probably posted it that year. Had some nice comments but then it appears to have been purged at some point. Maybe others were too?

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Author: JDCH
Timestamp: May 29, 2023 at 2:47 PM
Content: I was always curious what happened there.

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Author: JDCH
Timestamp: May 29, 2023 at 2:49 PM
Content:

Fiammaverde said:

I like the concise but precise descriptions, the dialogues and the fast pace. Your storytelling focuses solely in the key points and flows wonderfully well.

[End of quote]

Thank you. I am not really sure where to go next with it but will ruminate a bit more. Hoping it isn’t another 12 years.

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Author: JDCH
Timestamp: Oct 18, 2023 at 4:27 PM
Content:

GRUMPY1962 said:

I AM REALLY hoping that this story continues somehow/somewhere.

[End of quote]

Working on it. Not really sure where it is going or how long it will be but I have some ideas.

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Author: JDCH
Timestamp: Nov 6, 2023 at 7:53 PM
Content: Disregard the chapter numbering for now. Clearly I screwed up and will have to fix it. For now, here are a few more chapters.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Maya gathered some bedclothes for her aunt and brought them to the spare room, laying them on the end of the bed. She checked the sheets to ensure they were clean even though she had just washed them the week before when she had used the room when Ray had the flu and she wanted to avoid it. One adult down with illness was manageable. Two meant the kids would be feral within days.

It occurred to Maya that the waterproof mattress protector was still on the bed. As she was giving the room a final look, Anjali was coming down the hall.

“All good?” Anjali said.

“All good, auntie,” Maya replied. “I wasn’t sure what your preference was, nightie, PJs or an oversized t-shirt, so I left a selection for you.”

Anjali looked at the clothes and suppressed a smile. The T-shirt, from the last Mellencamp tour, was definitely Ray’s. The PJs were Maya’s and, without a doubt, the nightgown was from Asha, Maya’s mother and Anjali’s older sister. The gown had clearly never been worn and still had tags on it. In Asha’s mind, Maya was still six-years-old.

Maya noticed that Anjali had brought the bag into the bedroom with her.

“Are you thinking of giving them a try tonight?” Maya asked. She could admit to herself that it was clear her aunt had not expected that question.

“Oh . . ., um, I- I guess,” Anjali stammered. “It hadn’t really occurred to me, to be honest. Let me think about it.”

“Okay. Well, if you do, the bathroom has disposal bags under the sink,” Maya replied. “Anyway, good night. There’s another heavy blanket in the chest if you get cold.”

*****

Anjali wasn’t sure what to do next. It had all seemed so straightforward when it was just notional. She really wanted to help Lisa and to understand what she was going through but now that she was faced with the reality of it, she wasn’t sure of what to do. She certainly hadn’t expected that it would happen at her niece’s house.

‘Okay, this is silly,’ she said to herself. ‘It’s just underwear.’

She thought of all the times in her career when she had said similar words to patients who struggled with the idea of wearing something they identified as babyish. For some reason, it had been particularly hard to accept for patients when the garments were bulky and not at all discreet. She had to admit, the improvements had come a long way over the years. It was certainly better than when she was a nurse in training and some hospitals were still using cloth diapers and rubber pants on patients.

She took a breath and reached into the bag. She’d seen plenty of diapers, both big and small, over her career but she’d never really considered them. The hospital brands weren’t great but these were definitely a better quality. As she pulled them out of the bag, she realized that Maya had given her more than she’d expected and it was quite a variety of brands.

“Attends,” she muttered. She was familiar with those. The others – Molicare, Abena and Rearz – were new to her. She decided to go with the one she’d heard of and grabbed the Attends.

The decision as to what to wear to bed was easy. She was 12 when she first heard the opening chords to Jack & Diane and the song still gave her the same charge it did back then. She hoped those two American kids, now probably senior citizens, were doing well in the Heartland.

She washed her face and found the toothbrush Maya said was still in the package, courtesy of her dental office. She didn’t realize they went to the same dentist for all these years.

Having delayed all she could, it was time. She stripped naked and pulled the shirt on over her body. Next she grabbed the diaper and realized that the act of putting a diaper on someone else required mechanics very different than putting it on your own body. She lay on the bed and wriggled her bottom around until the diaper felt like it was in the right place. Then she made sure the wings were extended so that they would come up above her pubic area but below her navel. She pulled the front piece up between her legs and pulled it tight.

‘So far, so good,’ she thought.

When she taped a diaper on someone else, instinct told her that the top tapes should go first but now she wasn’t so sure. She’d have to try a few different ways to get a sense of which way was better. For this first time, she decided to go tops first.

All finished, she lay still for a moment to consider the sensation. Not bad. Different than her normal Hanes Her Way. But not like wearing the pads of old, either. Just . . . different. It was then that she realized she’d left the curtains open and decided to get out of bed to close them before going to sleep. It only took three steps before the diaper started to slide down her legs.

“Clearly my technique needs some work,” she laughed to herself. Thankfully these diapers had the sort of Velcro closure tapes that meant they could be readjusted. The second effort produced much better results.

As she climbed into bed, the wind howled and snow swirled outside her window. She marveled at how much her life had changed since she was small child in India where snow was as foreign as the idea of a jolly fat man in a red suit bringing children presents each year. Never mind a fairy that stole teeth or a bunny that left chocolate.

“THAT’S NOT CHOCOLATE,” she and Asha used to laugh when they were kids. “IT’S RABBIT POOP.” Their mother would give them a disapproving look but she agreed it was a strange way to celebrate a religious holiday. Then again, probably any religious celebration looks strange to outsiders.

A few minutes trying to read her book on her phone proved frustrating. She’d had too much wine and sleep was winning out. She turned off the light and sleep overtook her within minutes.

*****

“Uh,” Anjali groaned. The room was darker than when she had gone to sleep and the temperature had definitely dropped in the room. She looked around and realized the light thrown from the clock on the bedside table was no longer there. She tried the light on the table with no success. Power was out. Given the drop in temperature, it had clearly been out for a while and the air was quite chilly. Worse still, she had to use the bathroom. Last night’s wine had made its way to her bladder and her bladder would very much like it to leave.

She was about to get up and endure the unpleasant reality of cold feet on a tiled bathroom floor or a warm bottom on a cold toilet seat when she remembered the diaper. Could she? No, the idea had really just been to see what the experience of wearing them was like, not using them. But she admitted that it was really only half an experiment if she didn’t use them to their fullest capacity. Number One was one thing. She was certain that Number Two was further than she would consider. Even going pee in a diaper was so alien to her that she had to give it some thought. Her bladder, on the other hand, had no such reservations and only wanted to be emptied.

‘Okay,’ she thought to herself. ‘Okay. This can be done.’

Her first thought was how. She’s only ever peed sitting upright. Well, there had been a few emergency squats in the woods over the years, but squatting a sitting were similar in her mind.

‘Do I just lay here?’ That would at least give her the option of staying under the warm blankets. She resolved that was what she would do.

She lay there, flat on her back, staring at the ceiling, trying to figure out how to take the next step. She realized she had never had to think about how to pee before. You just relaxed your sphincter muscles and pee exited your body. Even the few near misses she’d had in life did not require any thought. But now, with a bladder bordering on painful, the brain and the body were not cooperating.

‘Do I push?’ she wondered. She recalled reading a urology journal that warned against that in most cases, but she couldn’t recall the specifics of why it was not considered a good idea.

She took slow, deep breaths and exhaled everything in her lungs. She could sense her body relaxing. But every time she thought she was making progress, everything would freeze up. As far as she was aware, she hadn’t produced a single drop. Time to suck it up and endure the cold tiles of the bathroom floor.

Anjali stood, at least the bedroom floor was carpeted, and started to make her way to the bathroom. The act of standing loosened her bladder muscles and she could feel the urine begin to move through her urethra. Years of experience told her she’d better hurry or she was going to wet herself. She’d momentarily forgotten she was wearing a diaper. Before she knew it, hot gushes were hitting the diaper. She could hear the stream as it made a slight rattle, bouncing off the SAP filling and echoing off the plastic backing.

“Oh,” Anjali said out loud. “That is different.”

Next, she considered something she hadn’t previously thought about – what to do next. Years of nursing experience told her that skin breakdown was common and should be dealt with as quickly as possible. On the other hand, people who wet at night often slept through the night and changed in the morning with no significant problems. She decided that the only way this experiment – and that really is what it was – had to continue for her to get a good sense of what patients like Lisa went through.

Besides, the idea of standing on those cold tiles was too much to bear. She climbed back into bed and drifted back to sleep.

*****

A light knock on the door roused Anjali from her slumber.

“Good morning, auntie,” said Maya, holding a cup of coffee in her hand. Clearly the power had come back on some time after Anjali had gone back to sleep. “I came to see how you are doing.”

“I’m good thanks,” she said, pulling herself up into a sitting position. It was then that she sensed the back of her shirt was damp.

“Oh,” she muttered.

At the same time, Maya started to clue in that her aunt had used the diaper for its intended purpose.

“I think maybe you need to change?” Maya asked.

“Yes,” Anjali said. “The bed, too. I think I’ve had a leak.”

Maya let out a little laugh, “Well, that happens to the best of us. Don’t worry. All our beds have waterproof mattress protectors on them. I’ll strip the bed while you hop in the shower. There’s more coffee in the kitchen and scones in the oven.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

The drive home had been uneventful. The snowplow drivers had already been hard at work and Anjali’s short drive really hadn’t taken any longer than if she’s done it in the summer.

Fortunately, Maya hadn’t really asked Anjali a lot of questions, mostly because the kids were running around, and it wouldn’t have been appropriate. Anjali wanted some time to sit with it for a while and consider everything that had happened.

It was almost noon by the time Anjali got home. Aside from resetting all of her clocks, you’d never know there had been a big storm. Anjali threw her bag from Maya on her bed and went in search of some fresh clothes to put on. Even though she’d turned them inside out, yesterday’s underwear was still yesterday’s underwear.

As she pulled out some cozy track pants and a university sweatshirt – she was old enough that she couldn’t bring herself to call them hoodies – her hand automatically went to her sock and underwear drawers. From the left drawer she put her hand on some fleece socks. With her right, she was about to grab a pair of panties when she hesitated.

Should I? she thought.

She grabbed just a bralette instead. Gotta love having no boobs to speak of, she thought.

As she moved everything over to the bed, she rummaged through the bag from Maya. The Abena and Molicare looked pretty much like standard diapers, but the Rearz had prints on it. Barnyard animals. Cute. Not what she was expecting but she decided that would be today’s experiment. She grabbed the Rearz and put it on like a pro this time.

Once dressed, she went to the kitchen and put the kettle on. As she was waiting for it to boil, a thought occurred to her – I should be taking notes on this. Every nurse is well accustomed to taking notes and making observations on the status of her patients. Anjali had probably written tens of thousands of pages of notes over the course of her career. With the kettle still a few minutes from boiling, she got her favourite moleskin and a pen.

Day One – 07/01/2022 @ approx. 4 am

An unexpected night away had me using an Attends overnight brief with poly backing. Unknown quantity of urine expressed. Estimating 500 ml. Unit leaked at some point, though not severely. Other than the leakage, contained the smell of the urine reasonably well.

Day One – 07/01/2022 @ 12:23 pm

Am wearing a brief by Rearz. Not much known. More research notes to follow. This brief is also poly backed but unlike others has prints that would more likely be found on juvenile diapers. Brief is comfortable though not as slim as the Attends brief. Updates TK.

Not much, but a start. She decided to phone in to work to check on the status of a few patients, including Lisa. Anjali noticed that most older nurses did this during their off days but not many of the younger ones did unless it was a particular patient they connected with. Louise, the shift supervisor picked up the phone and gave Anjali a quick rundown.

“Your timing couldn’t be better,” Louise said. “The weather has a lot of call-ins. Any chance you’d like to pick up a shift this afternoon?”

“Sure, why not,” she replied. “A few extra dollars won’t hurt the bottom line. See you at two.”

Anj went to change again, grabbing her favourite pair of pink scrubs from her dresser.

*****

“Hello, my dear. How are you,” Anjali asked as she enter Lisa’s room.

“Hi to you, too,” Lisa said. “I thought today was your day off.”

“It was but there were a lot of call-ins due to the weather,” Anjali replied. “I think there was a lot of I-Don’t-Want-To-Haul-My-Cookies-Out-of-Bed-itis amongst my colleagues.”

Lisa laughed. She appreciated the humourous but slightly jaded take on the situation.

“You managed to weather the, well . . . the weather,” Lisa said. “Looks pretty awful out there.”

“I did,” Anjali laughed. “I ended up getting stranded at my niece’s place in the ‘burbs. I spent the night there.”

Anjali thought about mentioning her experiment to Lisa then but decided to hold off. First, she wanted to have a broader basis of understanding the situation, and second, she wasn’t entirely certain of the ethics of the situation.

“I hope my ladies treated you well in my absence,” Anjali continued.

“They did. I felt like a princess,” Lisa replied. “They even wiped my royal bottom.”

Both women smiled at the joke. If you can’t laugh at the full catastrophe of life, you might as well give up on the whole endeavour.

“Well, glad to hear it,” Anjali said. “Speaking of which, let’s check you out and see if I get the honour next.”

*****

Anjali sat at the nursing station and did her charting. Nothing particularly remarkable in Lisa file but some good evidence of progress. Her physio was going well. John Kennedy, the bus driver with a leg broken in two places was doing well, too. He would probably we released in the next day or so once his son was able to get a hospital bed and portable commode delivered to the home. The snow had delayed that. Sarah Dodds’ file was not as complete as Anjali would have liked. Her case was unremarkable, but charting was important as different nurses cycled through patients’ care. She’d have a work with Louise and it would be addressed at the weekly meetings.

“Hey there,” said Louise.

“Speak of the devil,” Anjali said. “I was just thinking of you.” She went on to express her concerns about the lack of charting notes to the shift supervisor.

“I don’t know about you, but the younger ones seem to need a little more guidance than we did,” Louise said.

“Well, where I come from, the senior sisters used to hit us when we got it wrong, so . . . “ Anjali said.

“No,” Louise laughed. “Not good either. Not that I haven’t been tempted.”

The two women had known each other long enough that they knew what to take seriously and what was meant in jest.

“I don’t know about you, but my pants have definitely shrunk post-holidays,” Louise said. “Time to start hitting the gym again?”

“Definitely,” Anjali said. “I swear Santa’s elves took in the waist of my scrubs when I put them on this morning.”

“Your bum does look a bit bigger than the last time I saw you,” Louise laughed. Anjali did not. It hadn’t occurred to her that her diapered rear end would be evident under her scrubs.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Louise said. “I was just joking. I took it too far.” Even close friends can overstep the mark at times.

“No,” Anjali said. “The truth is an absolute defense. Let’s bring our gym clothes and go before shift tomorrow.”

They both agreed.

*****

Anjali finished her charts as Louise attended to other tasks. She had let out the occasional small spurt throughout the day but was really feeling a fullness in her bladder now as the third coffee made its presence known. She let the stream go as she finished her charts. As she stood to file the binders in their correct slots, she realized that the back of her upper thighs were wet. She’d pushed the capacity too far and her diaper had leaked. Scrubs, pink ones in particular, are pretty unforgiving of stains. This is by design so the wearer doesn’t risk bringing bodily fluids from one patient to the next.

Anjali made her way to the Nurses’ Change Room and grabbed a spare set of blue scrub pants out of her locker. It wasn’t unusual for medical staff to have to change partway through a shift, the human body always wanting to expel something on those trying to help. She grabbed her wet bag and made her way to the stalls. Once the door was closed, she removed her scrub pants and started to pull at the tabs of the diaper. The sound was undeniable. Times four. It was then that she heard someone in another stall finishing up. She’d forgotten to check that she was alone. ‘Damn it,’ she thought. “That was careless of me.’

As quietly as she could, which wasn’t all that quietly at all, she rolled the diaper and secured it with the tapes. She hadn’t thought about having to dispose of it. Had it been a tampon or a pad, she could have used the bin in each stall but there was no way a soaked diaper would fit in one of those. As she pulled on a fresh pair of scrubs pants – she’d have to go commando for the rest of her shift – she was starting to get a sense of what incontinent people have to deal with beyond the actual wearing and using of their products.

All changed, with luck, she’d be able to leave the stall, dispose of the brief, give her hands a wash and get out the door before whatever colleague of her’s emerged from her stall.

“It’s okay,” came the voice from the stall. “Me too.”

Anjali froze. She wasn’t sure what to do. The disembodied voice was familiar but she couldn’t place it. She bolted from the stall, dropped the brief in the trash, gave her hands a cursory wash and left without replying. ‘Bloody careless of me.’

The rest of the shift went by without incident. Anjali stopped in to check on Lisa, along with the rest of her patients, but the incident in the Nurses’ Room bothered her. She’d been careless, no doubt, but she’d also come face to face with the stigma incontinent people face out in society. She’d experienced it firsthand.

As Anjali was waiting for the incoming shift to get settled in and up to speed, she felt a hand on her shoulder.

*****

“Hey, you,” came the voice. It was Karen, a locum nurse who filled in when there were staff shortages. It happened often enough that Karen was a frequent flyer on her floor. “I guess they needed me. I might stay and work a double. Lots of call-ins again.”

Anjali realized why she hadn’t immediately placed the voice in the Nurses’ Room. Anjali felt her whole body tense at the realization. It was unusual not to cross paths with other nurses on shift even when working the same floor, but it did happen from time to time.

She liked Karen and wish the hospital would find a way to hire her on full time.

“I’m sorry if I freaked you out earlier,” Karen said.

“Sorry, . . . what?” Anjali replied.

“Oh, it’s just . . . , you know, my mistake,” Karen said. “Never mind.”

Karen bid her good night and went off to do something else. Anjali watched as Karen walked away. She definitely tended toward the heavy side. Suddenly, Anjali realized it was probably Karen in the stall in the bathroom.

****

“How’s my favourite patient?” Anjali asked as she entered Lisa’s room.

“You again? Don’t you ever go home?” Lisa replied.

“Soon dear, soon. Just wanted to check in before I head out and slip into some fleecy PJs,” Anjali said. “You doing okay?”

Lisa said she was but boredom was starting to get to her. “Fleecy PJs sound pretty good to me,” she said. “Better than these itchy gowns.”

“Well, I think I can do something about that,” Anjali replied.

*****

Day Two – 08/01/2022 @ 7:39 pm

Follow up to brief by Rearz. Suffered major leak at work. Could be user error – pushed beyond capacity. Leak came at rear where thigh meets buttocks, creating definitive ‘half-moon’ shapes on clothing. Brief was noisy to remove in public stall. Disposal is an issue. Not certain that I will continue wearing to work.

CHAPTER NINE

Sleep hadn’t come easily that night for Anjali. She decided against wearing to bed in case of leaks as she was on the early shift and didn’t want to deal with laundry if she did leak. She thought about Maya saying all of their beds had waterproof padding for just that purpose. Considering how much a good mattress costs, it was a wise move.

Still, it felt like she had spent half the night debating with herself whether she should wear to work today. A definitive answer probably would have set her mind at easy but definitive answers are hard to come by at 3 am.

“Ugh,” groaned Anjali as he alarm sounded. Sleep had finally come at 4 am just in time for her 5 am alarm. Her morning routine was, well . . . pretty routine. Get up, check the weather and see if she received any important e-mails or texts from work overnight, pee, shower, dress, eat some breakfast and then out the door. This morning, her bladder said ‘Pee first, everything else later.’ Welcome to your perimenopausal years, Anj!

Tonight she’d take a Benadryl before bed. The antihistamine knocked her out like no one’s business. But for now, on with the day.

Truth be told, she still wasn’t decided on what she would wear today. She’d taken a closer look at the Molicare and the Abena diapers and both struck her as pretty thick. Definitely as thick as the Rearz. Probably thicker. Either way, scrubs wouldn’t offer much camouflage. Maybe the longer sweater in the closet would help? She rarely wore it because nursing can be a pretty messy business but it would definitely cover her behind.

Good, decision made. That made her decision of if she would wear a diaper today a lot easier. Molicare it would be.

All dressed, Anjali turned and looked at herself in the full-length mirror. Not too bad, really. Maybe a bit noticeable at her crotch but then how many people walk around looking at other people’s crotches? On second thought, maybe I don’t want to know the answer to that question.

As she gathered her work bag, she remembered her promise to Lisa and ran back to her bedroom.

*****

“What’s this?” Lisa asked as Anjali entered her room, a fabric bag in her hand.

“Uh-uh, not quite yet,” Anjali said. “First we do the work, then we reap the rewards.”

Lisa wasn’t really sure what to make of that. She knew that Anjali was there to change her and get her to physio. The diaper changing has become such a non-event for her that when Anjali did it, it was almost like she was doing it herself. Lisa noticed she had started doing the bottom tapes first. Then came the longer-backed gown put on like a robe, preserving modesty in the physio suite. Lisa was grateful for this a few days before when she saw a guy in there her friend Robbin used to date. She didn’t know him well but he’d been Robbin’s date to Lisa’s wedding. She couldn’t remember his name and was sure they’d only dated for a short time, but still . . .

With Lisa changed and dressed, Anjali helped transfer her to her wheelchair before the orderly took her away.

“I’ll see you in a bit, love,” Anjali said.

“See you soon.”

*****

Anjali saw Lisa’s orderly bringing her back to the ward and saw the look on Lisa’s face. It was clear she’s been crying. As if on cue, the desk phone rang. It was Cheryl, the physiotherapist.

“Hi Anj, I was hoping you’d be on the desk,” she said. “Just wanted to let you know that it was a pretty rough day down here. The stool softeners kicked in as Lisa was doing her exercises and, well . . . hospital diapers are not really up to the task, are they?”

Anjali had to admit that she’d never really given them a lot of thought prior to meeting Lisa. Now she was acutely aware of just how poor they could be.

“No,” she said. “It’s a good example of where going cheap ends up costing you in the long run.”

“We cleaned her up as best we could but we’re not the pros,” Cheryl said. “She was pretty upset so we ended her session early. Too bad, too. She’s making great progress.”

Thanking her, Anjali hung up the phone and considered her best way forward. She also realize that, as usual, she pushed her bladder to the point of discomfort trying to do just one more thing before heading off to the bathroom. Then she realized, no, I don’t have to wait anymore. I can just go.

It took a bit on concentration to get her sphincter muscle to relax but in less than a minute, she could feel the warmth spreading throughout her crotch. Though, given yesterday’s experience, she did a few discreet checks to ensure the Molicare had done its job.

Anj finished her paperwork, filed the binders back to their proper spots and made her way to Lisa’s room.

“I hear today won’t be winning any awards,” Anj said, trying to keep the tone light. Lisa wasn’t having it.

“No, I’d say it fucking sucked.”

“Easy there,” Anj chided. “I’ll put up with a lot of shit but not foul language.”

There it was – the hint of a smile. Just a twitch, and it was obvious that Lisa was trying to suppress it, but it was there.

“Nice word play,” Lisa said.

“Thanks. Major in Nursing, minor in Rhetoric,” Anjali replied. “Now, let’s get you sorted out.”

A quick check revealed that Cheryl’s initial assessment had been spot-on. Anj noticed some slight soiling on Lisa’s gown. Not much, not enough that Lisa was even aware, but too much in Anjali’s professional opinion.

“You know, the shower room is free right now. Why don’t we get you cleaned up and then I have a surprise for you,” she said.

Lisa agreed and Anjali helped her back into the wheelchair.

*****

Preparing a patient in casts for a shower or bath is a time-consuming process. Nurses have to ensure there will be no water infiltration into the plaster otherwise it has to be cut off and reapplied. It’s an odd experience for both nurse and patient as the patients has to sit there naked, as plastic wraps are placed over the casts. With that done, Anjali ran a bath for Lisa and helped her into the water. The hot water had made the room steamy so Anjali removed her sweater.

With Lisa immersed, Anjali set about washing Lisa’s hair and scrubbing her back before moving around front. Anyone who has ever been bathed by a nurse knows that it is an intimate experience that is in no way sexy, despite what the movies would have you think. As the water drained from the tub, she helped Lisa get out, essentially holding her in a chest-to-chest bear hug, taking Lisa’s weight. It was then that she realized the two bodies in motion had caused her top to ride halfway up. Without question, her diaper was exposed over the elastic of her scrub pants. As quickly as she could, she sat Lisa in her chair and began drying her.

“Thanks,” Lisa said. “I was starting to feel a bit ripe.”

Anjali laughed and said it was pretty common. She had grabbed Lisa’s bag of toiletries from her room and her robe as well. With Lisa wrapped up, she began brushing Lisa’s brunette hair. She wore it longer than Anjali would have but it was clear she spent a lot of time and money keeping it healthy.

“I think I heard something about a surprise earlier,” Lisa said, a bit coyly. She felt like a little kid, hinting around at something but not quite willing to say it.

“Yes, I believe you did,” Anjali said, drawing out the interaction a bit longer. Patients in the hospital for more than a couple of days become a bit like prisoner. Even little things that tend to amuse also tend to break the monotony of the day-to-day routine, most of it unpleasant. “Why don’t you hop up on the change table. We’ll take care of that and then on to the big surprise. I just hope I haven’t oversold it.”

Lisa removed the robe and hopped up on the change table, as directed.

“It hadn’t really occurred to me that they things came in adult sizes,” she said. “It makes sense, I guess.”

“Yes, I’ve even seen them at some roadside rest stops on the highways,” Anjali said. “It’s a lot safer.”

A new diaper and some barrier cream applied, Anjali reached for the bag she had managed to sneak into the room without Lisa noticing.

“Ooooooh, I love surprises,” Lisa exclaimed.

Anjali laughed. “Now I know I oversold it.”

With that, Anjali removed the flannel nightie from the bag. It was mint green throughout the body, ending at the knee. The bib was white with three pearl buttons, trimmed in white lace. The price tag was still hanging off the sleeve.

“You bought this for me?” Lisa asked.

“Ha, no,” Anjali said. “This is from my own personal collection. Call it Anjali, by Patel.”

Both women laughed at the joke.

“No, my mother always feels the need to dress me,” she said. “Normally she buys me chin-to-floor Victorian nightgowns. This is a real departure for her. This is what she would consider scandalously sexy.”

More laughs.

“I am more of a t-shirt and knickers kind of girl myself,” she continued. “This is as close as my mother would get to buying lingerie.”

Lisa examined the garment.

“Well, it’s not what I would normally wear but I can see wearing it would let me feel like a grown woman again,” she said. “It’s actually kind of cute.”

Anjali helped Lisa slide the nightie over her head and removed the plastic covers from her casts.

“Thank you,” she said to Anjali as they left the shower room. “Thank you for caring about me.”

*****

Day Three – 09/01/2022 @ 8:15 pm

Molicare brief held up well. Two full wettings and some smaller ones throughout the day. Did not feel there was a significant risk of leakage nor did the garment feel saturated, though by end of shift there was a noticeable drooping at the crotch. Related, scrub top pulled up at the back while transferring a patient from shower chair to wheelchair. Brief would have definitely been exposed to anyone had we not been in a locked room. Patient was unaware as we were both facing each other.

Anjali considered what her next move would be. She had one brief left in the bag from Maya. She pulled out her laptop to do a little online research. A quick Googling had shown that Abenas were considered one of the better brands on the market. She wasn’t certain she wanted to wear to work again for fear of her scrub top lifting up. She wondered it there was anything to prevent that. She clicked on the link to the local surgical supply store where she bought her scrubs. She knew they carried all kinds of home healthcare items but when she went in, she tended to be singularly focused.

The tab to the Incontinence products branched off into different sub tabs, including clothing. She saw that there were many potential solutions, the most obvious being t-shirts that had snaps at the crotch.

“Makes sense,” she murmured to herself.

She was on the late shift tomorrow, so she decided to get up and visit the store when it first opened. With that decision made, she decided to wear the Abena to bed and see what tomorrow would bring.

############################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################
Author: JDCH
Timestamp: Nov 6, 2023 at 8:54 PM
Content:

GabyinPurple said:

Nice story. I hope you share the rest or can say where to find it.

[End of quote]

So far, just here. As for the rest of it, I am hoping to wrap it up early in 2024. The final chapters will be posted here.