Other Fetishes

Far enough back that no one posted picks online. Would have been interesting to see, and I expect they wore the adult diapers that where available at the time, heck, back then there was an adult diaper that was basicly an adult sized copy of the 70s pampers.

This would seem to be our lived experience! Interesting. 

Mikey has quite a few diapered adventures ahead of him.  And Geri finally has the help she needs with calculus and organic chemistry.  A good deal all around.

I visited with the elderly father of one of my relatives by marriage, today, in hospital. He seems to be recovering well from his fall, but he is not going to recover from being 94. He was sitting up in bed when we got there, wearing a long t-shirt and a diaper. I guess my wife and I are good company to expect, if you plan on dressing down thusly, because neither of us really blinked. That's kind of how I looked this morning, in bed, although fatter, and with better hearing.  Also, I was wearing a much better diaper. The usual institutional enthusiasm for the lowest possible bidder was on display, all over his room. It caused me to consider that, really, aging is in some ways, returning to childhood; there were diapers on his window sill, diapers on his nightstand, and, in case his situation hadn't been highlighted quite effectively, one of the messages that they wrote to him on his bulletin board was, "You are wearing a diaper - please do not get out of bed."  No wonder he wasn't bashful about his attire. He was practically sitting under a flashing sign that said, "In Diapers". There was even a tube of Aveeno Baby diaper cream on his nightstand, and if Ensure isn't formula for the aged, then I don't know what it is. He had about four bottle of that surrounding him, in various stages from unopened, through curdling.  In a past time, I might have somewhat envied his situation - not his proximity to the hereafter, nor his enfeebled continence, but, perhaps, his ability to be his diapered self, unapologetically. But these days, I'm not nearly as far from where he is, on that front, as I was in the before times. Were I in the hospital for a stretch, I suspect I might very well adapt a when in Rome ethos, and just hang out in my diaper.  Mysteriously, he was also catheterized, and maybe one of you out there with more medical training than I have, can explain that. He isn't catheterized when he's at home. I have a nurse in the family, and a good friend of mine is a doctor, although his area of expertise is neck and above, so while he might have some general knowledge on the topic, he isn't spending a lot of his time below the beltline of most of his patients. And my asking either of the them about this might be a bit too on-the-nose. "Oh, Mr. Puffypants is asking questions about diapers..."  Why two layers of security? Unless they could give me a really convincing rationale for why I should suffer both indignities simultaneously, I think most of you can figure out where I would land on the equation, given any choice. I'd wear the diaper, and forego the invasive tubing.  Although I do worry a bit about triage scoring rubrics, and where they land on absorbent underpants. While it's highly unlikely that I'll be involved in a mass-casualty event, where my survival might depend on how I rank next to the person next to me who's also in heaven's waiting room, I know from reading about such things that they do take these things into consideration. "He's probably never going to live independently, anyway - evidently, he was in diapers before the explosion..."  All of which brings me around to another topic of conversation... the fact that I'm wearing one of those sad hospital diapers, right now, but I'm sitting in my house. I can't identify it, and I think that aligns with their corporate vision - unlike nearly every other company on the planet that produces a widget of some form, the purveyors of these don't want to be identified in any way. It's white, cloth-backed, and it has a stripe of very small pointillist L's running down the center of it, presumably for "large". These smudge, and then disappear in areas where the diaper is wet.  I've been in this one for about an hour, and so far, it's holding up "okay" - I haven't asked anything heroic of it, but I'm not wearing any pants, if that gives you some insight into how much I trust it.  How I ended up with it in my possession was interesting, as well. Our elderly host fell asleep, as he is prone to do, and, not sure whether that was our cue to leave, or if he was just taking a moment to himself, I let my eye wander around his room, and I couldn't help but notice the three or four different places where diapers were stacked. Poking the bear, somewhat, or so I thought, at the time, I decided, oh, what the hell, let's kick off a conversation with the wife about diapers. So, I said some of what I said here - along the lines of, "God, the diapers they make people wear in these places are awful. The universe offers far better options."  My wife, stepping up to the plate, said, "Well, I guess you'd know better than most, but, do you know for sure that they're bad? I mean, you'd think they'd want to reduce the labour involved, and the laundry..." I went off on a diatribe about the work I used to do, when I was tangentially involved with infrastructure planning for the long-term care industry, and how the competing KPI's of the purchasing ogres vs fixed operations mules often meant that unit cost was the alter at which they worshipped - it was easier to quantify than "we'd use less hot water if the diapers didn't leak."  So, astounding me, she said, "Well, why not try one, then?",  and she took one off of the windowsill, and put it into her purse, which, as an aside, is a bit of a Tardis - I'm pretty sure she has a Saturn V rocket in there, as well. I started to become uncomfortable about the idea of theft from a public institution, even of a 38-cent diaper, but, reading my mind, she pointed out that we'd bought a painting from this hospital, once, when they were caring for one of my parents. Not an expensive one, but still.  So, when we got home, I took off the Lil' Splash I'd had on, and which needed to be retired, in any case, and I took a shower, and now I'm drinking a beer, writing a post, and wearing a hospital diaper, likely to failure - my expectations are that this thing throws in the towel inside of three hours. This size L fits me pretty well - I've also found that with most institutional diapers, where their idea of what XL means is measured on a bariatric scale. The Tena size R - for regular, I think - fits me well, for example, whereas over on Planet Rearz, I'm an XL. We'll see how many beers I can get in, before their metabolites start rolling down my leg. 

"I...i don't know mommy i guess its ok here but i don't know i feel like i will not do good like everyone else".