An Old Problem – Chapter Twenty
I was only out for a few seconds but could see the fear in mum’s eyes as she held me when I came round. There was still a nagging ache in my head but not the spike I’d just experienced. Mum and I sat on the floor, me wearing only the thick nappy she’d just pinned on but she was shaking more than I was.
Seeing how distressed she was I tried to make light of it. “That was new.” I just got hugged tighter.
“Mum, I’m OK now… don’t worry, it’ll be alright.” Yes I know, I was echoing the many times mum had said that to me.
Eventually I gently wrestled myself free from her strong embrace and saw just how badly the last few minutes had affected her.
“What, what if it is all my fault?” She swallowed hard thinking what her actions might have caused. “I neglected to check on my little baby boy… and look…”
The tears fell, she looked old, defeated, lost… but I wanted to keep mum’s spirits up like she had always done mine.
“Mum, don’t blame yourself… wait until we’re sure… and then I can blame you.” I gave her a sideways glance so she knew I was joking.
She smiled and ruffled my hair. “Are you sure you’re OK?”
“Well, let’s get up and see.”
We struggled to our feet but seemed able to stand without propping each other up.
“Look, let me get dressed and I’ll see you downstairs in a minute OK?”
I just wanted a few minutes on my own to assess what had just happened but without seeing mum looking so troubled.
“OK sweetheart, if you’re sure you’re OK, I’ve got a call to make.”
She ambled from my room but I knew she was going to try and contact Doctor Ames. This last couple of days seemed to have aged her and I didn’t like it. Not being her usual sunny and effusive self was not how I wanted my mother to be. For both our sakes we had to get to the bottom of all this soon.
#
I looked out of my bedroom window at the mid-morning scene and was surprised to see how busy it all was. It’s easy to think when it’s only me, or mum and me, then that’s the world, but the truth is, life doesn’t stop just because you’re having problems.
Now I was attuned to what was going on outside the noise was most welcome. Kids were playing in the street, riding bikes or shuffling along on skateboards. A bunch of teenagers were bouncing a ball and obviously heading for a game of footy. A couple of women with toddlers were chatting by the stump of what’s left of the lightning tree. Joggers and pram pushers, dog walkers and deliverymen, young, old, male and female – all people going about their business with their own cares and worries but still ‘just getting on with it’.
I ran my hand over the soft fullness of my fresh nappy and realised I was just getting on with it as well, only my getting on with it included a thick, thick nappy, which perhaps should have worried me but didn’t.
I was surprised that the blackout had had such little effect on me. I mean, of course it did have an effect; I did have a headache but was more worried about mum than myself. Thankfully, the soft cushion of padding had calmed and soothed any anxiety like it had always done.
Mum was taking a lot of grief on herself for something that happened all those years ago and I’d seen the guilt etched in her features. I’m sure dad and Jen had noticed but perhaps were too polite to mention it. Although, maybe they had and I just didn’t know it.
In fact, she was blaming herself for everything that has happened to me since then and, despite my joke, I couldn’t let her take that much blame. Perhaps it was simply that I liked nappies?
There, I’ve said it.
I picked up a pair of blue plastic pants and pulled them over the soft fabric and then found the holiday pair of blue shorts and a darker blue sweat shirt. I felt comfortable once I’d fished a pair of blue trainers from under my bed and checked myself out in the mirror. The guy looking back may appear young but there was a hint of determination that had not often been there.
I wasn’t sure what I was determined about but not going…
I heard mum answer a knock at the front door, which cut into my train of thought, when she shouted up… “Peter’s here.”
“OK, coming.” And I went down to greet my friend.
#
Pete and I have been mates for over ten years. We were at school and in the same class together and he’s probably the only friend from school I still meet up with. He knows about my wearing nappies because he used to sleep over fairly regularly when we were kids. His mum and dad were going through a divorce and he sought (and received) sanctuary at our house. I think both his parents were glad he had a friend he could rely on and get him away from their constant bickering.
I’ve never tried to hide the fact that sometimes (I don’t want you thinking I was permanently attached to a nappy), if things got on top of me (besides storms), I wet the bed. I never hid it from him. To begin with he was shy about it, then got curious and finally tried it overnight when we were eleven. It was quite a thrill to see someone else my age wearing a nappy but I didn’t tell him that only alluded to the fact that I thought he looked OK. I woke up wet, he didn’t and as far as I know, his curiosity was satisfied because he never asked to try them again. Also, as far as I know, he’s never let on to anyone else.
I checked in with mum and she was still on the phone although indicated by mime she’d be OK if I went out. Pete now lived at home with his mum (dad long gone) and a new baby sister, thanks to his mother’s boyfriend Sam. Although there’s talk of marriage no date has yet been set and Pete isn’t the biggest fan of his mum’s choice. However, it’s not because of anything he’s said or done, in fact he’s quite an amiable guy. I think Pete thinks no one is good enough for his mother and after the last disaster doesn’t want her to end up with another ‘wrong ‘un’. However, he loves his little sister and I suppose he’ll want her to have a proper mum and dad.
Anyway, we didn’t have anything particularly planned so we just wandered around in the pleasant weather catching up. I had a lot to tell him and he seemed fascinated about the tree strike. Of course he knew about it, everyone in our area did, but he hadn’t observed the event like I had. Once I started on about the consequences to my witnessing the event he wondered how I’d coped at all with constantly wet pants. Of course I had to reveal that I still needed more than a pair of tighty-whities to combat the flood and showed him (privately) the plastic pants hiding my thick personal protection.
“Hell that looks comfy.” He said with a smile, whilst idly patting my slightly bulky bottom.
I laughed back in agreement. I like Pete a lot.
#
We walked up and past the stump and said our hellos to the folk we knew. In fact, I’m not sure whether the slight bulge under my shorts was noticeable but didn’t see any reaction as we passed by. I was enjoying the rub of the thick cotton as we sauntered along and could feel the plastic of my pants slide against the fabric of my shorts… it gave me a little buzz.
Although he was my best friend I didn’t mention that I was seeing a psychiatrist or that I might need my brain tested, I didn’t want him to think I was in some way damaged goods.
Peter’s a good few inches taller than me and was wearing jeans with rips at the knee. He’s always fashionable and had, as far as I remember, quite a following from the girls in class. He wasn’t overly sporty except in one area, swimming, where he was unbelievably quick. We had a small school team that went into competitions but in truth, we only had Pete, who usually won his heats. I have a photograph of him and me somewhere, he’s wearing his tiny green school Speedos, we’re fourteen and I’m hugging him as he’d just won a final. It’s strange that I’d never thought about it until that moment, but I suppose he was a bit of a hero as well as a friend.
Pete’s main gossip was that he had got Catherine, his little sister, to say her first word ‘Pee’, which he was convinced was her trying to say his name. Also he was dreading having to go off to University if he got the results expected and leaving mum to, well, be without him for the first time in their lives.
“You don’t have any jobs going at your place do you?” He asked as a sort of general enquiry, but I wasn’t sure he meant it.
“Not that I know of in our little section but,” I looked to see if he was serious, “I can always ask if you’d like me to.”
“I envy you… you know… actually having a job. If I go to uni for three years and then have to start looking… you know I have absolutely no idea what I want to do…” He sounded exasperated with having to think about his future.
I was slightly taken aback by the fact he said he envied me. A shiver of pleasure shot up my spine but decided best not to make too much of it.
“Well perhaps you can go into teaching babies to talk.” I humorously volunteered.
“Well I have learned to change a nappy so, you know where to come if you need…” he patted my padding.
We both sort of laughed but this was the first time he’d mentioned my nappies as such and I began to wonder what that would be like. Hell, the office changes me so… what would it be like if…?
Uh-oh… how the hell did that happen?
This was a strange sensation because it had never happened at any time when I’d been changed in the office by my work mates. There was no build up, there was no warning but there was a warm splurge in my nappy, which I hoped I didn’t have to explain.
I quickly rearranged my padding for more comfort. Then felt guilty for imagining such a thing and hoped Pete hadn’t noticed my excitement at his suggestion.
As it was he hadn’t really wanted a job he just craved someone to talk to about his fears so between us, we had one hell of a ramble… both physically and verbally.
We must have spent a good couple of hours just wandering around and despite my recent blackout didn’t feel all that bad. Although, I did feel my nappy getting warm as we passed the lightning tree stump for the second time. However, I was heading home so no need to worry.
Giggling at their own bravery there were two little kids jumping on and off the newly levelled remnant. I could tell they were both thickly padded and wondered if they were also wet like me. Surely it wasn’t just me that the tree, even in its current state, had an effect on.
Pete had to do something with his mother and sister that afternoon, so arranged to see each other later in the week… schoolwork permitting.
#
Until I got in and chatted to mum I hadn’t realised how long it had been since I’d had a really good long talk with anyone other than family and work mates. In the past couple of years, since getting a job, I think I can count the times that I’d met up with any of my school mates on one hand. I’m not sure if this was my doing or theirs, all I do know is that Peter is the only one I see now.
In all our up-dating I’d forgotten to mention seeing Trinny and her fashion faux pas as she walked along the beach after having sex with her boyfriend. It made me smile as I remembered the scene and knew it would have had Pete in stitches. However, that would have to wait because mum came up and told me that she and Doctor Ames had been talking and the blackout had moved things on. She was able to organise a session at the hospital with a neurologist for Tuesday afternoon.
Typical of mum, she’d already called Mrs Dewhurst to clear me taking Monday and Tuesday off. I wasn’t sure how much she told her but wanted to keep an eye on me until the doctor had checked everything out.
It seemed things had moved on a pace since I’d been out and it had all been done without any consultation with me and to be honest, I was feeling a tad annoyed. I know, I know, I’ve been acting like a little kid for some time now so why would I think I should be involved now… but I was.
However, there looked to be some sign of relief on mum’s face now she had things underway, so I said nothing. Also, and this is another point, I was wet and needed mum to take care of it like she’d always done. Now wasn’t the time to tell her I was an eighteen year old adult who should be making his own decisions.
#
On Sunday we had a downpour, which seemed to signal the end of summer. In fact, the ground had got so dry there was flooding in various towns, villages and cities right across the country. We were fine, well, except that a local electrical substation somehow got flooded and took the power out for several hours. Mum, me and Jen played board games, whilst dad grumbled that his one day off (when he had planned to play golf) had been ruined. Jen also beat us all at Monopoly, which I’m sure just added to his woe.
As usual, I was still wearing shorts around the house to conceal my nappy but added a t-shirt and jumper as the temperature had dropped a little. So, apart from the weather nothing much changed.
The family had been brought up to date about my blackout and the fact that I was going for some tests. Mum let Jenny in on the reasons she was so worried, my sister’s reply was “Well I hope you never dropped me.” She was joking of course but I saw mum stiffen a little before her own reply. “I did but you just bounced.”
Both dad and Jen asked if I was nervous about these tests and I said “No not really” but the constant wet nappy meant I was but tried to put on a brave face. The thing was, mum had insinuated that when I was three I may well have suffer some kind of brain trauma and that information had sent more than a little flurry of worry down my spine and into my bladder. Certainly, over the last few weeks, things had happened I couldn’t explain though in general I thought I’d managed quite well. Mum also must have thought so because she never said anything (although might have suspected something, only not what she was now faced with).
The wearing of a nappy has never been a problem, nor have plastic pants, so that’s something I just accepted… but now? Was it all connected? Well, now they wanted to check my brain and I’d had a blackout so… were things getting worse?
Mum didn’t want me to go anywhere without one of the family being around just in case of another blackout, which was OK with me as I had no plans. However, that meant I had more time to myself and the internet can be a terrible thing if you start looking up ‘symptoms’. So I went up to my room, sat at the computer and started searching for… I wasn’t sure what but, as I was sitting in a nice thick nappy and clear plastic pants, I felt completely at ease.
However, surfing the net was a huge mistake because Sunday evening, I read about something called Hydrocephalus, and decided that was what I had. I have to admit that by this time I’d scanned so much I was more than a little confused and might have been attributing ailments and symptoms to both opinions and medical facts, not a good combination in my view. However, I’d taken so much ‘info’ in and not separated the various sites, by the end I was sure that: incontinence, lack of sleep, blackouts, memory loss, anxiety and the weather were all down to this one thing – Hydrocephalus.
Of course I had no idea if that was the case but it scared me so much that I inadvertently filled my nappy without knowing I had until I got up and felt the mess I’d made. Even the smell only hit me once I moved and looked down at the front of my plastic pants which looked fine, yet I could feel the squishy mass dragging down the back. I picked up a couple of disposables as replacements and awkwardly made my way to the bathroom and hoped to clean myself up before anyone else noticed.
I was quite embarrassed.
#
As Tuesday afternoon approached, and despite me saying to everyone I was OK, my nether regions were almost constantly wet. Thankfully, I’d had no further blackouts or memory problems. I tried to hide my apprehension but something else was telling my bladder otherwise. I arrived at the ‘Neurological Dept– Clinical observance’ and was greeted by Doctor Ames and Doctor Sanjid Mandip, who I took to straight away as he had a similar friendly accent as Mrs Patel at the office. Mum had insisted on being with me every step of the way, which was just as well because I needed a change before we entered the pristine white office. We did that in a handicapped toilet on the ground floor; thankfully no one was waiting when we exited.
Over the past few days I’d tried to drink and eat as little as possible but I still managed to pee with alacrity. However, mum said it might be worse if I was dehydrated so insisted I took regular sips of water. I felt a little light-headed when I entered the office.
After a few pleasantries the neurological doctor talked me through what was going to happen and what they could discern from these tests. The first thing was an EEG (Electroencephalography), which he said measured neuron activity. I pretended I knew and was fine about it all but in truth… wanted to run a mile. My original idea of just getting on with it disappearing leaving me mesmerised by all the electronic equipment.
Laura Ames said she would ask some questions like she normally did and, with the helmet they’d placed on my head, would be able to see how my brain reacted. I tried to think back to episodes of House or Casualty or Grey’s Anatomy to see if I remembered anything but really, I just wanted to get it over with and then go home. Suddenly, I felt slightly afraid and wanted mummy, erm, mum but thankfully didn’t cry out for her, it was all in my head.
Thoughts of Dr Brown Bear from Peppa Pig entered my head (I used to watch her with Jen when she was little) and I immediately felt less stressed. However, I was aware of the sensors in the helmet picking up on my brain waves and wondered if an image of Peppa and the doctor would appear on screen. I didn’t pursue that thought as Doctor Laura started her questions again. She’d told me we’d be going over some old ground but she wanted to see how my brain reacted. I was in her hands so mum watched, whilst Doctor Mandip monitored the, erm, monitor.
At one point Laura asked if I used the nappy to masturbate, a question she’d never asked before, and one that took me by surprise. She assured me that it was a perfectly normal enquiry and no one would think any less if I did. I saw her watch the monitor as I thought about the question for a few seconds. My bladder flooded my nappy and I felt the warmth grow but wasn’t sure if it was from the stream of pee or embarrassment.
Apparently, the monitor peaked for a moment but I answered that it happened occasionally but not usually. Of course I was trying not to think of my recent encounter with Peter but that was all I could think about. I just hoped they couldn’t tell.
A host of other similar sexual questions followed which I answered as truthfully as I dare with mum looking on. She didn’t seem perturbed by any of them and neither did the doc who carried on regardless. I just sat there in a flooded nappy glad that my plastic pants were keeping me from leaking right there in hospital. I wouldn’t want them observing that in this observance unit.
#
After about thirty minutes she had images and a printout of my reactions and whilst she studied that and chatted to mum, I was escorted down the hall to the MRI unit for a scan. I was greeted there by a couple of nurses (or technicians) who again talked me through what was about to happen. As I slid into the chamber Doctor Mandip joined us and shielded himself in a little cubicle. I was given some headphones and told that as the machine can make people feel a bit claustrophobic there’d be music to help me relax and an emergency button should it all get too much for me.
They asked me to lay as still as possible and they’d talk via the headphones if they needed me to move or if they were going to change any of the settings, so not to worry.
I hadn’t had time to get a change so lay there in a saturated nappy hoping no one would be able to tell (I wasn’t certain exactly what an MRI could detect). Anyway, the music started to play and it was nursery rhymes set to music. I didn’t know if they were taking the piss or a young kid had been in there before me but that’s what I got. As it was, Doctor Brown Bear entered my thoughts again and the anxiety of being in such an enclosed space left me.
I’m not sure how long I was in there for because I think I drifted off for a while but eventually the machine stopped and I was let out.
#
Back in Clinical Observance we all met up. I could see mum and Laura had been having a discussion whilst I was away. They had forced smiles on their faces so whatever had gone on must have been pretty intense. Their polite enquiries as to how it had gone were more for show than a need to know. I wondered what had been going on.
Meanwhile, Doctor Mandip entered the room and had things fed through to another screen on his desk.
He started pointing to an image of my brain from the scan, talking about ventro something or other here and prefrontal do-dahs there. I had no idea what anamygdala was (he even spelt it out but it didn’t help) but it seemed important. So, although the medical stuff passed me by, the upshot was… there was a dark stain on my brain.
Brain damage immediately shot through my damaged brain.
I was shaken but the doctor smiled and said I shouldn’t worry (how often had I been told that… and now… there was something definitely I needed to worry about). Apparently, it was an area that wasn’t reacting like normal but wasn’t a huge problem. However, they would study all these results together and plan a course of action if one was needed.
‘Of course action was needed’ my damaged brain screamed but I just sat there numb feeling my nappy gain even more weight.
That’s when I must have passed out. My anxiety level had hit a peak and I came too with the doctor and a nurse faffing over me… unfortunately it wasn’t Doctor Brown Bear (that would have been fun) I was sucking my thumb and the low mewling was also coming from me sounding like a wounded kitten. Mum looked concerned but Doctor Laura had disappeared.
Mum spoke to the doctor explaining this was exactly how I reacted as a three year-old when the storm scared me. He typed stuff into the computer and mumbled something about it explaining…
I was still a bit zonked out but heard him say to her that it could be possible that whatever the injury was, certain information just wasn’t being transmitted or received and that possibly (and he kept stressing the possibility) my brain had found another pathway… and possibly (again) might be short-circuiting under stressful conditions…….
There again, I may have dreamt all that and in fact none of it happened because moments later I woke up in a side room, on a doctor’s examination table, where mum was just finishing changing my nappy.
“Oh sweetie… you’ve been through a lot today, let’s get you home.” The look of concern was back but so was the love that she always showed when changing me.
“Have they done all they need to?” I quietly enquired.
“For the moment love but they have to check a few more things. Having said that, the doctor says, they have all the information they need, they just need to pour over it to make a final diagnosis.”
“What did Doctor Laura say?”
“Do you need to know right now,” she sounded a bit drained so I just shook my head and, with a fresh thick nappy in place, we set off home.
* * *
Doctor Laura Ames Case AT – 20001
Notes and observations
• Doctor Mandip has now checked the Neuroimaging and compared the readings against the MRI scan. He had my psychological report and witnessed for himself some of the problems that Anthony presented with.
• The scan identified some damage to the cerebral cortex. A part of his brain has been impaired but the EEG confirmed that the nervous system controlling bladder functions appears to have remapped a course which can become short-circuited at times of stress.
• Although the damage is small the scarring has suppressed these and possibly other, as yet unrealised, functions though synaptic activity still clearly registers.
• Doctor Mendip is of the opinion that surgical action is not needed unless the patient’s symptoms markedly deteriorate.
• This will be a relief to everyone.
~~~
• Anthony has recently been under extreme stress owing to witnessing a particularly violent thunder storm. This reaction related back to an undiagnosed head trauma he received when three years old during a similar event.
• His parents were unaware of the trauma Anthony suffered, but it would appear that at times of high anxiety memory of that incident becomes the main focus and there is a return to this early juvenile state.
• Anxiety, whether caused by weather conditions, fear or concern over day to day occurrences have led to a failure, in part, of the patient’s neurological impulses. Thus impairing his ability to control certain bodily functions, which in turn leads him to seek security and comfort in areas he feels safe.
• This, together with the reinforcement over many years that the wearing of protection to control the problem is required, has indelibly stamped this course of action in his mind.
• This is because, according to his mother, when his occasional bouts of incontinence started, it became the easiest form of security to administer. Therefore the first and quickest line of defence, which has not only become the norm but also the most desired.
• Other than when he was three and his incontinence lasted for a number of months, he usually overcomes these bouts in a few weeks and is then back to wearing age appropriate underwear. This time, the constant and unexpected incontinence has increased in volume and duration.
• Although he works with computers, in many ways Anthony, at eighteen years of age, still hasn’t really grown into full adulthood. He’s a likeable young man not known for displays of anger or temper tantrums. However, stress leaves him open to lack of bladder control, which may over the years have dented his self-confidence.
• His reliance on his mother, which is a wonderful bond, is also one that may have led to the underdevelopment of his own abilities and the need to be looked after. She has never withheld in this area, always being keen to help and encourage her son… even still being the one to change his nappies.
• Because of how long this method of coping with his periods of wetness has been going on, no one of the family is surprised to see an eighteen year-old wondering around the house wearing bulky protection. It is simply accepted.
• The recent ‘blackouts’ can be assigned to the anxiety Anthony has experienced since the lightning strike, which I have to agree with his mother, appears to have been the main cause for his recent, more noticeable problems. The mental impact of this event now and in the past, cannot be understated.
• Having spoken to his parents we have approved a process to try and get Anthony to recognise when anxiety arises and ways for him to calm and manage that apprehension. We need to guide him away from his dependence on protection and attempt to break the link between current worries and his childhood trauma.
• My main diagnosis is that most of the recent ‘developments’ are psychosomatic undoubted brought on by the witnessing of the ‘close call’ lightning strike. We will develop new coping mechanisms for him to employ.
• Outcome will depend on how attached Anthony is to wearing protection. At the moment he doesn’t regard the wearing of protection at his age as any different than wearing a pair of boxer shorts.
• Anthony is at ease with how he looks and dresses and seems to regard the wearing of protection as a necessity. (If I wet I need a nappy – is how he puts it)
• According to his mother shorts are the main item of clothing he wears both at home and when out and about. It’s his preference which gives him an even younger appearance than just his lack of stature. This is another issue we need to explore.
• I think because of the lack of any medical or psychological assessment over his lifetime (when I believe his problems could have been caught earlier) a series of sessions with an accomplished physiotherapist will hopefully help ease Anthony forward.
• Anthony will have a further EEG assessment in six months’ time.
The End of An Old Problem – Chapter Twenty.
If you want to read more stories about ABDL boys you can find a list here: Diaper Boys – Index
The story originally came from: https://www.dailydiapers.com/content/stories.html