family pee stories: part three

the adult diaper

have you ever noticed how when people got to visit friends and relatives in the hospital that they feel obliged to relate every tale of their own previous hospital stays? well, i have. probably because it pisses me off since i have no broken bone-mysterious illness-crazy doctor-experiences of my own. luckily the women in my family are extremely clumsy and tend to fall often. as a female member of my family i, too, tend to fall whenever i get the opportunity and, as it so happens, opportunity lies just around the corner for me. every corner. i have the bruises to prove it. however, since i am still young(ish) and drink lots of milk so my falls have yet to land me in the hospital. not so for my mother or grandmother.

just the other week my mother fell and found herself in the hospital with a fractured cranium (not to worry, she is recovering quite well) which reminded my grandmother of one of the many times that she fell and was herself in the hospital. (remember, this is not a sad story about injury and hospitals. it is about peeing. specifically peeing in your pants as it is the third installment in my "family pee stories" series.) so, this last time that my grandmother fell and was hospitalized she had to deal with the dreaded bedpan because she wasn't well enough to get up to use the bathroom.

it seems that bedpans are a pain in the ass not just because they are annoying to use but also because, according to my grandmother, the nurses take their sweet time getting the bedpan to you. she claims that she had to threaten to wet the bed before they would bring it and then once they did they liked to let her sit on it for an extended period of time. so not only would they not let her get up to pee, she had to suffer the added insult of sitting on her own excrement for longer than was strictly enjoyable.

one evening while my grandmother repeatedly pushed the call button, she enviously observed her bedridden and be-diapered roommate not having to deal with such discomfort and humiliation. sure, the lady was wearing a diaper but, at this point, a diaper sounded like heaven to my precariously perched grandmother. unfortunately she was considered too fit to be diaper-eligible.

so she suffered, relying on the whim of the busy nurse staff for permission to relieve herself. little did she know that the fact that the nurses were overworked would play to her advantage later that same day.

later that same day...

time to change the diapers! the roommate gets her fresh, new diaper in preparation for the evening. sighing, my grandmother prepares herself for an uncomfortable night (she pees a lot). but lo! what is this? the tired nurse is heading my grandmother's way with a diaper in hand. she seems to have overlooked the fact that my grandmother isn't supposed to get one. my grandmother starts to speak up. then she pauses. and smiles. and thanks the nurse for the diaper.

she said that it made her feel free and that it was like being a kid again. the simplicity of it was so refreshing. none of this getting up half asleep to go to the bathroom and pee or calling for tired nurses that refuse to come. if you need to go, you go. you can just pee in your pants. right there and it's considered to be ok. in fact, if you're wearing a diaper you are expected to pee in your pants. astounding! she made it sound so great that for a moment i was like, "dude, i want some diapers. they sound awesome!"

the next day my grandmother made the unfortunate mistake of telling my mother that she was wearing a diaper. my mother did not like this one bit and marched off to the nurse's station to let them know that her mother does not wear diapers!

that night, no diaper. just the familiar and dreaded bedpan. sighing, my grandmother prepared to ring the call button for the umpteenth time and vowed that if she is ever lucky enough to receive another diaper that she will never, ever mention it to my mother.

ah, the freedom of diapers. at least we have something to look forward to in our old age...