👩⚕️ An immersive internship
Part 4: Transition to the association
⚠️ This is a work of fiction
⚠️ Reproduction and distribution prohibited
After taking a few steps outside, I immediately think that my diaper must be visible because it forces me to spread my legs.
"You can't see anything, says mom smiling, don't worry. Even I, who know what you're wearing, can't tell anything through your shorts."
"It forces me to spread my legs, I say."
"It's just a matter of habit. Walk normally. By the way, do you need to pee?"
"No, I'm fine."
I just lied to mom, I don't know why. I actually need to pee, but did I lie out of fear that she would tell me to do it in my diaper? I don't know. In any case, she told me that wearing a diaper is something you get used to, I hope it is. Thinking about it, Matthias never talked to me about it, maybe out of shame. I think I would like to confide in him, let him tell me how he feels about things and if you really get used to it. I don't want to lie to him, but as mom said, it's better to keep the reason why I wear diapers a secret. So, I could tell him that it's because I wet the bed since I moved. I know he won't make fun of me.
Now we are in front of the door and, just before opening it, mom squats in front of me and fixes my shorts and t-shirt.
"Don't forget, she says gently, you must not do anything that would suggest you are not incontinent."
"Like what? I ask."
"For example, something very simple, you shouldn't go to the bathroom, at least when we're not at home."
"What if I need to pee?"
"You'll have to use your diaper..."
On these words, we enter the building. I immediately hear children playing and screaming. In front of us, an older lady is sitting behind a desk.
"Hello, she says, how can I help you?"
"Hello, mom replies. I attended an information meeting a while ago and I'm here to submit an application to become a foster family."
"Very well. I see you have brought a file. Can I quickly look at it to see if it's complete?"
"Of course, mom replies while handing it to her."
The lady takes it and starts to quickly look through it.
"I see you have a nursing diploma, that's a big plus for you."
"That's what I understood, yes."
"I think everything is there, she says. Oh no, the lady continues, I see that your son has a disability but you haven't provided a medical report. By the way, is it your son who is with you here? She adds, looking at me, strangely."
"Yes, mom replies, this is my son Loïc. I didn't know we needed such a document."
"Without this document, your file is not complete. In any case, we cannot take into account your son's disability."
"Okay... mom says. I'll have to find a certificate. We have just moved and we haven't retrieved all our things yet."
"You can go see a doctor, the lady replies."
Oh dear, I think, this wasn't planned in the program. I don't want to go see a doctor, in a diaper, and lie to him. What will I say if he asks me questions?
"I'll do that, mom replies. I'll take my file back then."
"Here it is, the lady says, handing it back to her. And by the way, we are currently having a session with family caregivers, children, and our psychomotor therapist, would you be interested in attending?"
"With pleasure, yes, mom replies looking at me. Okay Loïc?"
"Um... yes, I say without much enthusiasm and especially without daring to say no."
So this lady leads us to a room where I can hear the screams that I've been hearing since we entered the building. As soon as the door is opened, I see a group of about a dozen people. I quickly scan the room and count five adults and seven children. Among the adults, I think there is the psychomotor therapist who is facing all the other people, and parents with their children. Among the children, I would say the ages range from 5 to 14, with an equal number of girls and boys.
"I'll leave you to attend the class, the lady says, I have to go back to the reception."
"Thank you, mom responds."
We both sit on a wooden bench right next to the door, and observe. The parents, like the children, are mimicking the gestures of their teacher. They are doing some sort of yoga, but it's a bit chaotic. What shocks me is that several of the children present are wearing diapers under their clothes, but they don't seem at all embarrassed by it. One of them, a boy around 5 years old, is only wearing that and a t-shirt, while others wear leggings, shorts, or sweatpants.
"Do they all wear diapers? I ask softly to mom."
"It's the association I told you about that manages this place and it welcomes incontinent children. So yes, they all wear diapers."
I notice that if their diapers are visible, mine must be too. Although, if they are incontinent, their diapers might be wet, and I know that when a diaper is dry, it is thinner. Mom and I watch them for about ten minutes when mom says to me:
"Do you need to pee?"
"Yes, I say."
"Incontinent people don't feel the need to pee because it comes out on its own. So you shouldn't show a need."
"But how do I do it since I can't go to the bathroom either? I ask."
"Do it in your diaper!"
"No, I don't want to, not here. Can we leave please?"
"You'll have to do it at some point you know. But okay, let's go."
So we get up when a boy from the group we were watching approaches us.
"Loïc? he says to me as he approaches mom and me."
"Um... yes... I say, surprised that he knows my name."
"You don't seem to recognize me."
I indeed don't recognize him, but what I see is his diaper under his shorts.
"It's me, Thomas, we went to elementary school together, but that was at least 6 years ago."
And yes, now that he gives me a place and a time, I remember! We talk for several minutes about the time, but also about what has happened since then. We lost touch because he moved after his parents' divorce.
"Are you incontinent too? he asks me."
"Yes... I say, looking at mom who has been listening to us the whole time."
"Me too! But you probably guessed that by looking at me. It's because of a car accident I had a year ago. The surgeon did what he could, but my bladder had a problem and since then... I have to wear diapers."
"That must have been terrible, mom says full of empathy. "
While the class continues behind, Thomas tells us in more detail what happened after his accident and the adjustment he had to make to learn to live with diapers. I must admit that I am quite admiring.
The class is coming to an end and Thomas tells us that this is the last time he will be here because his mom, with whom he lives, found a new job and they are moving. I am sad to hear this because I would have liked to see him again and hang out with him.
So it is with regret that we say goodbye shortly after, and mom and I go back to find our car.
"It's a shame he's moving, mom says. He would have been your first friend."
"And a friend who wears diapers, I say."
"Speaking of that, do you still need to pee or did you do it in your diaper?"
"I still really need to, I say, putting my hand on my diaper through my shorts."
"Let's hurry back then. Remind me to make you an appointment with the doctor."
On the way back, I have more and more stomach pain. I can't hold it much longer. I think about what mom told me, that I could go in my diaper. I also think about Thomas, his courage, and the philosophy of life he had after his accident and his obligation to wear diapers. I am almost a little ashamed actually, because I pretend to need diapers. The last thing I think about is this medical visit that I will have to go to.
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