LGGrace

Thanks for the comment! I woke up early this morning and not being able to go back to sleep, decided to try and finish writing the second half of the next chapter. Should have it posted sometime today. It should answer the majority of the questions surrounding Will's illness.

I have been going camping all my life. I really enjoy minimum camping. I have not slept in a tent in over 10 years. I sleep in a hand made hammock that I bought when I was studying abroad in Ecuador for only 10 USD and use a 10x10 heavy-duty tarp and rope for covering if there is a chance of rain. It's nice being able to fall asleep looking up at the stars. Some of my favorite camping trips are weekend long kayaking excursions on a scenic river in my home state where I was able to easily fit all my supplies in my kayak. There is this one spot on the river with a 50 foot cliff that overlooks it that I love to camp at. It is a tuff spot to get to since there is only a small sand bar to park your kayak on and have to climb up, but you can not beat the view. One of my most memorable was camping in 15 degree weather where I slept right by the fire on a bed of pine bows and my sleeping bag.

I ordered the laser hair removal tool today and based on third-party site reviews it is supposed to be in the top five. It is on sale on their site directly for $179 when it is normally $358. Free shipping is included and eye protection. https://5minskin.com/products/5minskin-hair-zapper-2-0-at-home-laser-hair-removal-handset

Great chapter, I like how you explained how a diaper doesn't really feel wet until it's close to leaking. Hope you feel better soon.

The only thing I can reveal is he will wake up wearing a diaper.🤫

Hope everyone had a good May the Force and Cinco de Mayo. Chapter 10 I woke up to my mom rubbing my back and saying, “Will, it’s time for your evening feeding.” I open my eyes, roll onto my back, and see that Rosie is standing beside the bed. She said, “Alright Will, last feeding of the day. If you vomit, that is OK, just call me if anything feels off with your feeding tube. Do you need any more pain medicine?” I nodded my head and watched as she connected my feeding tube to the bag and then injected me with two different syringes. She then said, “All set, I will be back in a little bit to flush your feeding tube.” My mom then said, “Let’s have you sitting up in case you get sick again.” She then raised my bed until I was almost in a sitting position and placed a bowl in my lap for if I threw up again. “Try and stay awake until after the feeding is done and we know that you won’t get sick,” my mom said. I just nodded my head. After my mom sat back down in the recliner, I looked at the TV to see that my parents were watching reruns of The Office. Doing my best to stay awake, I try to focus my attention on the TV. Within 10 minutes of the show, I started to feel nauseous. Another 10 minutes later I was using all my power not to throw up. I was starting to have to constantly swallow my saliva, as the need to vomit built up. A minute later I could not hold back any longer and with the bowl raised to my face, I threw up a few mouthfuls of the milky white liquid that was coming from the feeding bag. My mom rushed to my side and placed a hand on my shoulder. A few moments after coughing and catching my breath, I look to see my dad on the other side of my bed with a small cup of water in hand. He said, “Let’s rinse your mouth out.” He brought the cup up to my lips and I took a few sips to rinse my mouth out and spit into the bowl. My dad then threw the bowl away and grabbed a new bowl for me and set it in my lap. My mom said, “The feeding bag is almost empty, I don’t think you are going to get sick again, but try and stay up for a little longer until it is empty.” I just nodded my head as my parents retook their seats. Less than 10 minutes later, the bag was empty and my nausea was starting to subside. A moment later Rosie walked back in. As she was flushing my feeding tube, my mom said, “Will got sick again.” Rosie asked while looking at me, “Are you having any issues with your feeding tube after vomiting?” I just shook my head no, and then she said, “I will let the doctors know, but it may be something that we are just going to have to deal with for the time being since this is the only way for you to get nutrition.” I just glumly nodded my head and thought that throwing up three times a day is just one more thing to add to the list of shitty things to deal with daily at this point. As Rosie was leaving the room, my mom got up and started lowering the bed back down for me and said, “Get some rest, Will. Your Dad and I will both be staying the night here.” As soon as the bed was lowered to almost flat, I just turned onto my side away from my parents and as I was falling asleep, I could feel my mom kiss me on the back of my head. I awoke in the middle of the night needing to poop. I turned over onto my back and could see that my mom was sleeping on the couch and my dad was sleeping in the recliner. In the strongest voice that I could muster, I said, “Dad, Dad, Dad!” I could then see my dad stirring in his sleep, then open his eyes and look at me. “Will, what’s wrong?” “Bathroom,” was as I could speak in my weak state. My dad jumped out of the recliner and rushed over to my bedside. Pulling the covers off of me, he picked me up then quickly turned around with me in his arms and sat me on the commode. In less than a minute, my bowels were empty and my dad wiped my bottom using wet wipes. He then picked me back up and set me back in bed. While pulling up the covers, he kissed me on the forehead and said, “Get some sleep, Will, wake me or your mom up if you need anything else tonight.” I nodded and turned back over onto my side. As I was falling back to sleep, I could hear my dad emptying the commode in the bathroom. I woke up again to the night nurse who I have yet to get her name, asking me if I need more pain medicine. With a simple nod, she injected me with the Dilaudid and I was back asleep. I woke up to it being light outside. A moment after waking up, I noticed why I woke up in the first place. My joints were starting to ache again; I turned onto my back and could see that both my parents were up and watching the news on the TV. I called out to my parents, “What time is it.” My dad said, “It’s almost 8:30. Why do you ask?” “The pain meds are starting to wear off,” I said. My dad responded, “I’ll call the nurse.” A few minutes later, Rosie walked in and said, “Good morning Will, what can I do for you this morning?” My mom answered, “Will’s pain medicine is wearing off.” With a concerned look on Rosie’s face, she turned to me and asked, “Do you think you can hold off for another thirty minutes when you are scheduled to get your next dose?” I simply replied, “Maybe.” Rosie responded, “I’m going to go ahead and start your morning feeding, and weigh and measure you. I will be back in a minute.” Rosie was back within a minute and started the feeding bag for my feeding tube and injected me with nausea medicine. She then measured me as I was lying in bed and took my weight using the bed. She said, “Will, you weigh ninety-four pounds and are five foot and a half an inch. I will be back in twenty minutes to give you your pain medicine.” Once Rosie walked back out of the room, my mom raised my bed to some I was back into an almost sitting position and placed a bowl in my lap for me. Knowing that I would probably throw up and that I wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep until I got more pain medicine, I turned my attention to the news on the TV. Just like last night, I started to get more and more nausea as time crawled by. The pain in my joints was also getting worse by the minute. Not knowing how long I had been waiting, I decided not to try and hold back vomiting. I raised the bowl to my mouth and threw up another couple of mouthfuls of white liquid. My dad, seeing me throw up, got out of the recliner and went and got me a small cup of water to rinse my mouth out with. As I am rinsing my mouth out, Rosie walks back in. “Will, I’m back to give you your pain medicine,” pausing, she then said, “Did you get sick again?” My dad responded, “Yes, he threw up another couple of mouthfuls of vomit.” Rosie nodded, then injected me with the Dilaudid. Relief washed over me as the pain medicine worked its way through my body. Rosie said, “It looks like the feeding bag is almost empty, I will be back in a few minutes to flush Will’s feeding tube.” My dad then asked me, “How do you feel right now.” “Nauseous and tired, but I don’t think I’m going to throw up again,” I said. My dad nodded and said, “I’m going to let you lay back down.” My dad took the bowl of vomit from my lap and lowered my bed down to where I could lie down again. Before I could fall back to sleep, Rosie walked back in. She then flushed my feeding tube and threw the bag away. Before walking out of the room she said to my parents and me, “One of the doctors should be checking in on you this afternoon and possibly going over the biopsy results.” Not long after Rosie left, I was back to sleep. I woke up screaming in agonizing pain. The pain was so intense, that I was arching my back and curling my toes and fingers. It felt like someone had smashed every joint in my body with a hammer. My parents rushed to my side, but there was nothing they could do as I was screaming. It seemed after 30 seconds the pain started to subside just enough to keep me from screaming and arching my back. My mom frantically asked, “Where does it hurt Will?” With tears welling in my eyes I was able to shout out, “Everywhere!” No less than a few seconds later, I was hit with another wave of agonizing pain and screamed out again. The pain was so great that I immediately let loose my bowels and poop covered my butt, thighs, and lower back. As the wave of intense pain was starting to subside again, I could see out of the corner of my eye Rosie rushing in. Before she could even make it all the way into my room, I could hear my dad shout, “Get a goddamn doctor here now!” I could see Rosie turn on her heels and rush back out of the room. I could smell the foul smell of my poop filling the room. I looked up at my mom who was holding one of my hands as tight as she could with tears in her own eyes. Tears streamed down my cheeks, all I could say at that moment was, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” My mom placed her other hand on the side of my face and said, “It's just an accident, it’s OK.” A moment later, another wave of extreme pain hit me as I screamed out, arched my back, threw my head back, and my eyes felt like they were rolling into the back of my head. As the latest wave was starting to subside, I could see a bunch of doctors and nurses rushing into the room. I watched as two nurses pulled my parents from my bedside and I was then surrounded by doctors and nurses on either side of me. Sobbing now, I just yelled out, “Make it stop, Make it stop, MAKE IT STOP!” I could feel multiple nurses and doctors hold me down to the bed. Out the side of my eye, I could see someone with a tray full of syringes. Before I could get a better look, I was hit with another wave of extreme pain. I started to scream again but was unable to arch my back due to the staff holding me down. As I was screaming, I felt the pain in my body starts to dissipate. I stopped screaming and looking to my left, I could see someone injecting syringe after syringe into my I.V. Looking straight up at the ceiling, I could feel a warmth that started at my core and worked its way to all my limbs. As it worked its way to my head, I was overcome with an intense feeling of inner peace and calmness that I never felt before. As my eyes were feeling heavy, I thought, ‘This must be what dying feels like.’ A second later darkness overcame me. I opened my eyes. Gone was the hospital room and everyone in it. Gone was the pain and suffering. Gone was the bed where I was lying in my own waste. Looking down, I noticed that I was sitting in a kayak with a paddle in my hands. I was no longer in my sickly small body, but the body before I got sick. I could see the hair on my arms and legs. I was no longer wearing the hospital gown, but just a simple pair of shorts and a tee shirt. Setting the paddle in my lap, I brought a hand up to my face and could feel that I had my beard back. I looked around and could see that I was no longer in Arizona but on the river in my home state of Georgia where I spent most of my childhood on. I could feel the hot humid air on my skin and surprised myself with how much I missed it. I was home. I stuck my feet out of the kayak on either side and plunged them into the refreshing cool black water of the river. Looking on either side of the river, I could see that the banks were lined with cypress trees with their knees jutting out of the water. Looking past the line of cypress trees, I could see oak trees going up the hill that morphed into a forest of pine trees that could go as far as the eye could see. I leaned back into the seat of the kayak and let the current bring me downstream, only using my paddle to steer and letting it sit in my lap to allow me to also plunge my arms into the cool water as well. As the straightaway gave way to the lazy whining bends of the river, the canopy of the tree tops that overhung, allowed for shade from the hot sun. On the bends of the river, sandbars were formed that I could stop at for swimming, and cliffs that overlooked the river made the perfect camping spot. I watched as a kingfisher would fly from one side of the river to the other, working its way downstream with its shrill call as it was in flight. Going around another bend, I could see a herd of deer crossing. The Bucks were just starting to grow their antlers for the fall rut. As I made my way around another bend, the river opened up to a straightaway. As I was making my way down the straightaway, I noticed a pair of river otters playfully circle my kayak before leaving me as I made my way further downstream. The sun began to set below the tree line and I could hear the calls of barred owls as they were waking up for the night. I could then hear the call of wood ducks and just as I was looking up, they passed overhead so close that I could hear the whistling of the air coming off their wings as they flew home to roast for the night. As the last rays of light were giving way to the night, I was joined by a chorus of insects and frogs. I laid back into my kayak and as all the stars were coming out, everything faded to black.

I have not but do plan on buying one that suppose to be the best on the market for $200. It has very good reviews and suppose to remove 95% or better within 12 weeks. It is suppose to work on all hair types and is even safe to use on your face. I have tried creams, but end up with chemical burns, waxing, and shaving. I now shave my diapered area once a week, but would like to be done with shaving all together. I plan on ordering this week and can let you know how it turns out.

I finally decided to give it a try last night. I didn't sleep with it on my face, but did keep it on for a few hours before going to bed. I did find that my face would get a little itchy after the first hour and would go to scratch it but immediately regret it and have to wipe the cream off my finger. I moved from the humid southeast to the dry southwest last year and it has been a real struggle to keep my skin moisturized. Let's just say that it works and my face this morning is as soft as a baby's bottom. 😉 I wouldn't do this everyday, but plan on doing this once or twice a week.

I relate to Maddy's disappointment in her first pull-ups/diapers. The first pull-ups I bought my freshman year of college were goodnites X/XL 65-125lbs, and weighing a little over 130, they did not fit good and leaked too easily. With me now weighing a little over 135, the new XL size fits me perfectly.

Thank you. It going to get pretty crazy in the next few chapters.

A VPN would apply to people in the states.

I agree, but it's going to get a lot worst for him before he gets better.

As a lover all thing spicy, I always love the spicy pepper troupe in your stories. I had to do a double take when Carly said that the Carolina Reaper was the hottest pepper 20 to 30 years ago, but then realized this story takes place 30 years after Exchange. The guy that bred the reaper is nuts. He eats whole peppers raw all the time.

I am a big fan of comedy and there is an adult children's book written by a comedian named Dan Cummins that I think y'all would find funny. https://www.amazon.com/Daddy-Bear-Three-Rabbits-World-ebook/dp/B017AJ4QI0/ref=sr_1_1?dib=eyJ2IjoiMSJ9.EiyA8fradQrOKeA9Hi_1mlB7QXxXCoYqfGaF0Xq7z6z7W0XhPxSvaD_vHViad4QNyaEvHNclWxtS_FiFAq02bc9xZePQLwr4bq3q1N_gIdWRdutpt7yFSCKpGpvvNy9cdE3qaLKm6614EvhsHLSXEc5z_IebRR-sa4vA_n7svmzcf07EHRjLAcdBxTMChZlF8-lFiKp2Ii1eyzsF0eaurJVGVvvY8FGW7WAWRQtDTXQ.eX_bugpLlePaN_MUuW_qkd7iHUuRlNncI2hUpCgtVWs&dib_tag=se&keywords=Three+Rabbits+Meet+the+Real+World&mfadid=adm&qid=1714713901&sr=8-1 If you don't want to buy the book, there is a clip from his comedy album on YouTube where he reads it to the audience:

I'm sorry to hear about what going on in your personal life; sending prayers your way. This was a great chapter, I like how you were able to capture Avery's mental breakdown so well. With Darlene needing someone to love and take care of since losing her baby and Avery needing a loving parental figure in his life, hopefully, they are able to start a loving relationship together since it seems like they were made for one another.

I figured I would post a picture of a chromosome to help with the story since this story will center around a genetic disorder. I am having to take more creative liberty in making this genetic disease than I would like. It seems that molcular genetics is not as far along as I would have hoped when doing my research. I am going to have to combine different known genes and genetic disorders to come up with Will's illness. The chromosomes that I listed in chapter 9 come from a meta study on genes that are responsible for adult heights. Yeah, you would think I would be used to it by now since I have been going to college either part-time or full-time since I was 16 with only 3 year break after my first year working on my master's and a one-year break before starting my PhD. Thanks, without giving anything away, Will will not die, but at times he probably will wish he was dead.

I had finals this week and bit off more than I could chew. So I will probably stop giving estimates on when chapters will be completed and just let y'all know that I am working on this story diligently. Chapter 9 I opened my eyes and looked up to see that I was being fed from my feeding tube, then I turned to my parents and said, “I think I’m going to throw up.” My mom said, “George, go get something for Will to throw up in.” Then turned to me and said, “I’m going to call the nurse.” My mom grabbed the remote and pressed the call button as my dad rushed across the room to a counter that had a stack of small kidney-shaped bowls on top. My dad rushed back to me with one in hand and handed it to me. Laying down, I focused on taking deep breaths and moving as little as possible to try and keep from throwing up. A few minutes later, Rosie walked in and asked, “What can I do for you, Will?” My mom responded, “Will is feeling nauseous and thinks he might throw up.” “I’m sorry to hear that Will. It looks like your feeding bag is almost empty. The best we can do right now is wait it out and if you do throw up, let me know,” Rosie said. I nodded and continued to lay in bed as still as possible while taking deep breaths. The minutes seemed to drag on as I walked the fine line between extreme nausea and vomiting. About 30 minutes later Rosie walked back in and asked, “Will how are you feeling?” Thinking for a second, I said, “A little better, I think I am now less likely to throw up.” Rosie said, “That is good to hear. I’m going to flush your feeding tube.” After flushing my feeding tube and throwing the feeding bag away, Rosie left the room. I was still feeling nausea, but it seemed with each passing minute, my nausea would get a little better. When the nausea was starting to subside, I was hit with a different bodily function. I needed to poop and I needed to poop now. I turned and said, “Dad. Bathroom!” Wasting no time, my dad sprung to his feet and rushed over to me to unplug the I.V. pump. My dad helped me out of bed and threw an arm around me to help me stay on my feet and with his free hand, pushed my I.V. pole. We got to the bathroom with little time to spare. As soon as I was on the toilet, I unleashed another packed colon’s worth of poop. My dad said as he was exiting the bathroom, “Let me know when you are done and I will help you back into bed.” After a few minutes of emptying my bowels and trying to empty as much of my bladder as possible; I wiped and flushed. I called out, “Dad, I’m done.” My dad walked back into the bathroom and helped me to my feet as I pulled up my underwear and pajama bottoms. My dad helped me to the sink to wash my hands and then helped me back into bed. Utterly exhausted from the day, I quickly fell asleep. I woke up to Rosie gently shaking my shoulder. Feeling even more tired than when I fell asleep the night before, I slowly opened my eyes. Rosie asked, “Will, do you need any more pain medicine?” I weakly nodded and watched as Rosie injected me with Dilaudid, the nausea medicine, and began my feeding tube for the morning. She then said, “Ready to go get weighed and measured?” I nodded again and with all of my strength, tried to sit up in bed, but my muscles were so weak that as soon as I got halfway up, I collapsed back into bed. I looked up with a concerned look and said in a weak voice, “I can’t get up.” Rosie, thinking quickly, said, “That is OK, I can get a fairly accurate weight from the bed and I will go get a tape measure to measure your height while lying down.” Rosie quickly left the room and was back within a minute with a tape measure in hand. She then took the tape measure and measured me lying flat in bed. After pressing a button on the bed she said, “I have you being roughly 5 foot 2 and 98 pounds.” Before my parents could comment on my shrinking size, the need to go to the bathroom hit me. I looked and said, “I got to go to the bathroom.” Rosie froze, but my dad jumped up and said to Rosie, “Grab Will’s I.V.” My dad then bent down over me and easily picked me up out of the bed bridal style. While in my dad’s arms, I was carried into the bathroom with Rosie following with my I.V. pole. My dad sat me down on the toilet seat while he crouched down in front of me. Too weak to sit up on my own, I leaned forward into my dad with my head resting on his shoulder. With one arm wrapped around my upper body, my dad used his other to pull down my pants and underwear. Without a moment to spare, my bowel let loose. At the moment I didn’t even care that I was pooping while pretty much being held by my dad or that Rosie was right there in the bathroom too. I was too sick and weak to care, I was just glad that I did not have a repeat of the ambulance ride. A couple of minutes later, my dad asked, “Will, are you done?” I nodded yes into my dad’s shoulder and before I could attempt to try and wipe myself, my dad took some toilet paper and wiped my rear for me. As soon as he was done and flushed, Rosie spoke up and said, “I have a better solution for when Will needs to go to the bathroom, but for the time being, I think it would be best if Will is just wearing the gown and socks.” My dad nodded and slid my pajama bottoms and underwear the rest of the way down my legs and tossed them on the floor. My dad then picked me back up off of the toilet and carried me back to my bed. He laid me down in the bed and pulled up the covers as Rosie was plugging in the I.V. pump. Rosie said to me and my parents, “I will be back in a few minutes.” My dad went back into the bathroom and washed his hands, came back out, and took a seat on the couch. About 5 minutes later, Rosie walked back carrying something big; at first glance, it looked like some oversized walker with something in the middle. Rosie said, “Will, this is a bedside commode. This makes it easy for you to go to the bathroom. Either I or your parents can help you when you need to make a bowel movement.” Opening up the lid on the commode, she pulled out a small plastic jug and said, “This is a male portable urinal. If you only have to urinate, then you can go in it while still in bed then it can be emptied in the toilet. Do you have any questions?” I shook my head no, and then Rosie said, “I will be back in a little while to flush your feeding tube.” I started to feel nausea from the feeding tube again, but not as bad as the night before. But as tired as I was, I still managed to fall back asleep. I woke up to my mom saying, “The doctors are here to see you.” I looked over and saw that Dr. Kutner, Dr. Taub, and Dr. Cameron were standing next to my bed. Dr. Cameron asked, “Will, how do you feel this morning?” In a weak voice, “I’m very tired.” My mom then interjected, “Will is very weak, he is to the point that he can not sit up on his own. His father had to carry him to the bathroom this morning.” Dr. Cameron responded, “That is disconcerting news. Dr. Taub does have some promising news on finding out what is going on with Will.” “We started sequencing your DNA and do see some anomalies. Humans have 22 pairs of chromosomes and since you are male, an X and Y chromosome too. Our preliminary findings show that you have mutations on your 3p, 6q, 7q, 9p, and q, 12p, 13q, and Xq chromosomes. It is too early to say how these mutations are causing the symptoms that you have, but we do have a team of geneticists working around the clock to get a better understanding of exactly what gene mutations are causing the symptoms,” Dr. Taub said. Dr. Cameron added, “We believe that your genetic anomalies are what is causing an autoimmune response and your symptoms.” Dr. Kutner then said, “I’m still waiting on the results from the biopsy, I do not think that it could be a mycobacterial infection, but it should give us more insight into how your body’s autoimmune response is causing your symptoms. It looks like we now have a clear direction for diagnosing you. Do you have any questions?” I shook my head no and my mom said, “That is great news that we are getting closer to getting an answer.” “Hang in there Will, one of us will check on you tomorrow,” Dr. Kutner said. As soon as all the doctors left my room, I was back asleep. I woke back up and immediately turned my head to the side to vomit. It was only a couple of mouthfuls of a milky white liquid, but I had no time to call out for help or avoid getting it on my pillow and face. As I was dry heaving, my mom came rushing to my side and asked, “Will, are you OK?” After catching my breath, I was able to weakly say, “I’m nauseous.” My mom turned to my dad and said, “Go get a washcloth and a bowl off the counter. I’m going to call the nurse.” I look up to see that the feeding bag is empty, I then see my dad coming out of the bathroom with a wet washcloth. He hands it to my mom and she begins to wipe my face clear of the vomit. Once my face is clean, my mom lifts my head up slightly to remove the pillow from under me and tosses it to the floor. She then raises the head of the bed to where I am in an almost sitting position. My dad then walks back over and places a small bowl in my lap. Rosie walks in and asks, “What can I do for you.” My mom responded, “Will threw up a little bit and needs a new pillow.” Rosie came to my bedside and asked, “Can you open your mouth for me?” I opened my mouth and she took a small flashlight to look in and then disconnected my feeding tube. She then said, “Your feeding tube looks like it is still in place, does it feel any different to you?” I shook my head no and she said, “Alright, I will be back in a minute with a clean pillow.” My dad then said, “Will, let’s rinse your mouth out.” With a small cup of water in hand, he raised it to my mouth. I took a small sip and started swishing it around. My dad took the small bowl and held it up to me to spit in. We repeated the process a few more times until my mouth was relatively clean of vomit. Rosie walked back in with a pillow and handed it to my mom who then helped place it under my head. Rosie flushed my feeding tube, then said, “Let me know if you have any other issues, but you should be OK. You will probably have issues with nausea and vomiting during feedings.” Rosie walked out of the room with the vomit-stained pillow. My mom then lowered the bed back into a lying position for me and told me, “Will, get some rest, we will just have to be prepared when you are being fed through your feeding tube.” Nodding, I roll over onto my side and fall back to sleep. I wake back up to the need to poop. I rolled onto my back and turned my head over to my parents and said, “I need to go number 2.” My dad gets up off of the couch and walks over to my bedside and begins to pull the covers off of me. My mom said to my dad, “I’m going to wait outside to give Will some privacy.” My dad picked me up out of bed, turned with me in his arms, and set me on the seat of the bedside commode. Crouching down in front of me so that I could lean against him, making sure that the back of my hospital gown was moved out of the way. With not too much time to spare, I let my bowels loose. As I am sitting there, the gravity of my situation is starting to sink in. Tears began to well in my eyes as I thought about how truly sick I was. It seems that no matter how much the doctors do to make me feel better, I am getting sicker and weaker each day. I feel for the first time in my adult life that I am completely helpless and fear grips me. Questions of what tomorrow will look like for me, much less next week, have me questioning my future. Even if the doctors can figure out what is going on with me, is there even a treatment option; will this kill me? Tears began to stream down my face as I started to think about my family. Will I ever be able to see Stanley, Katie, and Marley again? Will I ever be able to hold Ellis and Charlie again in my arms? Thinking I would give anything to see them again, spit up, sticky hands, poopy diapers and all. My thoughts were interrupted by my dad asking, “Will, are you done?” I nod yes into my dad’s shoulder. Using wet wipes, my dad quickly wiped my butt. As my dad was positioning me to be able to pick me back up, he was able to see my tear-soaked face. With concern, he asked, “What’s wrong Will?” With quivering lips, “I’m scared . . . I don’t want to die here.” As I was starting to sob, I let out, “I want to go home!” The dam broke and I began to sob uncontrollably. My dad picked me up and sat down on the bed with me sitting in his lap with my legs hanging off to one side. He wrapped his arms around me and I buried my face into his chest. Tears and snot stained his shirt as I cried. My dad started to rub my back and said in a quiet voice into my ear, “Son, it’s going to be OK. As soon as you get better, we will take you on the first flight home.” Between sobs into his chest, I cried out, “What if I don’t get better.” Then I let out another round of uncontrollable sobbing. My dad tightened his hold on me and after kissing the top of my head said, “Will, listen to me, YOU WILL GET BETTER, and YOU WILL GO HOME.” “George, why is Will crying?” I could hear my mom say. “I think that everything that has been happening to him finally hit him. Can you empty the commode and rinse it out for me?” After a few minutes, my sobs turned to sniffing. I felt a hand touch the back of my head and heard my mom say, “Will, can you look at me for a second?” I slowly lifted my head off my dad’s chest and turned to my mom. She had tissue in her hand and as she brought it up to my snot dripping nose, said, “Blow for me, sweety.” I blew out all of the snot in my nose, and then my mom took a damp washcloth and wiped all the snot and tears off of my face. My dad then picked me back up and set me down in bed. After pulling the covers up, he kissed me on the head and said, “Will, it is going to be OK.” Still feeling dejected and not truly believing him, I just turned onto my side and curled up into a ball. A moment later, I could feel my mom get into bed behind me. She wrapped an arm around me and pulled me into a tight embrace. After my emotional outburst, it did not take me long to fall back to sleep.

I do have a few ideas for a worst-case scenario, but I don't like the idea of us having to go even deeper into the shadows than we already are and make it harder for people to discover that there is a community of people who are ABDL. 1) Host the site on a server in a more accepting country for sexual/kink stuff like Germany or the Netherlands. Members in the US would use a VPN to access the site. 2) If the VPN does not work, have a cluster (small supercomputer) set up in the country that is hosting the server, and members from the US use a remote access terminal (RAT) to access the cluster and then use the cluster to get on the site. 3) Host the site on the deep web and use a TOR browser to access the site.

Yay, pullups! I wonder what experience her mom had growing up to make her so apprehensive to diapers for bedwetting. Diapers were always used as a threat to me when I was around Maddy's age to try and get me to stop bedwetting and my dad even bought goodnites. Luckily, at that age i would only wet the bed in spurts and the goodnites were usually returned, then my dad would do it again a month or two later when my wetting returned. So I could see if her mom had similar humiliating experiences, she would be against diapers.

I was hoping to get this chapter posted a little earlier, but went down a rabbit hole when researching biopsies. No promises, but I will try to have chapter 9 posted Sunday night. Chapter 8 With the intense pain waking me up, I look frantically for the remote to press the call button. Taking deep shaky breaths, I find the remote in the dark and hit the call button. As I waited for the nurse, I gripped the covers so tight that my knuckles were probably white if I could see them. Each second seemed to drag on as I waited for the nurse. After the longest 2 minutes of my life, a nurse walks in and cuts on the lights. She said, “What can I do for you, Will?” Between breaths, I was able to muster out, “I need more pain medicine!” “You’re not scheduled to have another dose for another 2 hours, can you wait until then?” she said. “NO!” I almost shouted at her. She responded, “I’m going to go get the attending doctor and will be right back.” As she was walking out of the room, I heard in a groggy voice, “Will, what’s wrong?” I look to my left to see my mom tossing off a blanket and getting off the couch. She rushed to my bedside as I said, “I. Need. Pain. Meds.” “Was that the nurse that just left?” she asked. I nodded and my mom said, “Hopefully, she will be back soon.” She looked at me with concern and grabbed my hand which was clutching the sheets. I held her hand in a death grip as I stared at the ceiling tile directly above my head and kept taking deep breaths in and out to keep from screaming out in pain. Five long minutes later, the nurse rushed back into my room. “Will, I spoke with the attending doctor and he prescribed you a more powerful medicine called Dilaudid,” she said. Injecting the syringe into my I.V., I felt a rush to my head and my peripheral vision blurred for a few moments. Then relief washed over me as my hands lost their tight grip on my mom and the sheets. With a sigh, I said, “Thank you.” The nurse said, “Certainly, Dilaudid is about 10 times stronger than morphine and lasts longer too. You shouldn’t need anymore until tomorrow morning.” I said, “OK.” On that note, the nurse walked out and my mom placed a hand on my cheek and said, “Get some rest and wake me up if you need to go to the bathroom,” then kissed me on the forehead. I nodded, then turned onto my side to let sleep overtake me again. I woke up to Rosie gently shaking my shoulder, “Good morning Will, do you need any more pain medicine?” Wiping the sleep from my eyes, I shake my head yes as I can now feel my joints start to ache again. Rosie injected my I.V. with Dilaudid and another syringe of nausea medicine. She then connected the feeding bag that was already hanging from my I.V. pole to my feeding tube. Unplugging my I.V. pump, she turned to me and said, “Let’s go get you weighed and measured this morning.” I slowly got out of bed with Rosie’s helping hand. As soon as I put all of my weight onto my legs, I lost my balance and immediately grabbed Rosie to keep from collapsing onto the floor. “Will, are you alright?” Rosie asked. As she was helping hold me up, I said, “I just feel very weak.” “Are you able to walk to the nurse station?” she asked. “I should be able to with some help,” I responded. My dad stepped in and wrapped an arm around my torso to support most of my weight as I leaned against him. My mom then took the I.V. pole to push alongside me. Taking shaky steps, we all made the short trip to the nurse’s station not too far outside my room. My dad helped me step up onto the scale and kept a hand on me to keep me steady and only briefly letting go so that Rosie could get an accurate weight. Rosie said, “Will, you are 5 foot 3 and 105 pounds.” With it being Groundhog Day with that information, all my parents and I could do was just nod. We slowly made our way back to my room and halfway there I was hit with the need to poop. Looking up at my dad I said, “I need to go to the bathroom.” “Alright, we will head straight there,” he said. As all three of us walked into the bathroom, my bowels were ready to erupt. Standing in front of the I yanked my pajama bottoms down and as soon as my butt touched the toilet seat, I unleashed a torrential mudslide into the toilet bowl. I didn’t even care at the moment that I had an audience and was using the bathroom like a preschooler. At that moment I just felt relief. My parents quickly exited the bathroom to give me privacy. On the way out my dad said, “Will, let me know when you are done and I will help you to bed,” as he left the door slightly ajar. After a couple more waves of poop were evicted from my body, I wiped and flushed the toilet. I called out, “I’m done.” My dad walked back into the bathroom, placed his hands under my armpits, and lifted me to my feet as I pulled up my underwear and pajama bottoms. Wrapping one arm around me and taking my I.V. pole with the other, we stopped by the sink to wash my hands, then made our way back to my bed for me to collapse into it. Already exhausted, it didn’t take me long to fall back to sleep. I woke up to Rosie flushing my feeding tube and replacing my bag of fluids. She then said, “Will, someone will be here in a few minutes to take you to get your x-rays, CT scan, and MRI scan.” I nodded and a minute later an orderly came into my room pushing a wheelchair. He asked, “William Gauss?” I nodded yes and he said, “I'm going to be taking you downstairs to radiology.” My dad walked over and helped me out of bed and in the wheelchair. The orderly took my I.V. pump and bag of fluids and placed them on the I.V. pole that was attached to the back of the wheelchair. A few minutes later, I was left outside of radiology for an x-ray. The technician took me back into the room and after 15 minutes of getting a full body x-ray, I was sitting back in the wheelchair outside of the room to get my CT scan. Another technician wheeled me into the room and I had full body scans taken with and without contrast. The process took about 45 minutes and I found myself falling asleep then being awakened by the technician over the intercom instructing me to hold my breath during certain aspects of the scan. After the CT scan was complete, I, again, found myself waiting outside of a different room to get my MRI. After a few minutes of waiting, a technician walked out and asked, “Are you William Gauss?” Looking up, I see a man of average height and build with short brown hair and blue eyes wearing light gray scrubs. I responded, “Yes.” “My name is Chuck and I will be taking your MRI today, have you ever had an MRI before?” he asked. Shaking my head, I said, “No.” He said, “That’s OK, we use a strong magnet to help take an internal picture of you. It can be very loud.” “Yeah, the strong magnet causes all of the dipoles of the nuclei in the atoms of my body to align with the magnetic field. Based on how long it takes for the nuclei to return to their original orientation after the magnet is turned off, it tells the detectors what type of tissue it is. The reason why the boundaries between different types of tissue are blurry is because of the Gibbs effect and is a natural consequence of the solution along the boundaries of the partial differential equation used to construct the image.” Pausing for a second, I then sheepishly said, “Sorry, I'm kind of a big nerd and sometimes can’t help myself.” Smiling, he said, “That’s OK, it’s nice to know a patient who has a good understanding of what I do.” After verifying my medical history to make sure that I didn’t have any magnetic material in my body, he disconnected my I.V. and helped me into a pushchair that was nonmagnetic to wheel me into the room. Chuck helped me onto the sliding table of the MRI machine and connected my I.V. to a line while explaining, “This is so I can inject you with contrast during the MRI.” Before placing headphones on me, he said, “This is to protect your hearing from the loud noises and so that I can give you instructions from the control room. Since this will take a while, we usually play music to help keep you calm while being in such a tight space. Do you have anything in particular that you would like to listen to?” Thinking for a second and deciding to keep it simple, I said, “90s alternative rock would be fine.” After spending nearly an hour in the small tube of the MRI while listening to the loud blaring music of Pearl Jam, Alice in Chains, Mazzy Star, Gin Blossoms, 4 Nonblondes, Local H, and the periodic loud mechanical whirring and banging of the MRI machine; Chuck had finished all the imaging and brought me back out into the hallway to wait for an orderly to bring me back to my room. Roughly 10 minutes later, I was back in my room and as soon as I was back in bed, exhaustion sent me back to sleep. I woke up to Rosie shaking my shoulder and asking, “It’s about time for another dose of pain medicine. Do you need any?” After a few moments of taking stock of my body, I said, “Yes, the last dose is starting to wear off.” As she was injecting the Dilaudid into my I.V., I asked, “What time is it?” “It is a little after 2:30,” she said. I asked, “Wasn’t I supposed to get fed from my feeding tube at lunch?” She responded, “You did. You slept through both, me connecting your feeding bag, and then an hour later flushing your feeding tube.” I said, “Oh, I must have been really tired.” She said, “Must have, but I say when in the hospital, it is always good to get as much rest as possible. Especially, since it is hard to get quality sleep here. One of your doctors should be here soon to perform the biosis.” I said, “OK,” and she walked back out of my room. I turned to see my mom on the couch and my dad in the recliner with the remote watching TV. Deciding to try and stay awake while waiting for the doctor, I watched reruns of The Office with my parents. About 30 minutes later, Dr. Kutner walked in holding a tray. “Good afternoon Will, how do you feel today?” he asked, as he set the tray down on the table next to me. I said, “I'm just exhausted.” “This biopsy should not take too long and you can get some rest for the rest of the day. I hear that you had a rough night; has the Dilaudid been helping?” he asked. “Yes, it seems to keep the pain at a minimum between doses,” I responded. He said, “That’s good to hear, we will do our best to keep you comfortable. I’m going to perform what is called a Synovial Biopsy on your left elbow and right knee. I will inject a numbing agent into both joints, then I will use a special needle to pull a small tissue sample from the joint. Do you have any questions?” I said, “No.” He then said, “Alright, let’s get started.” Dr. Kutner pulled back the cover that was over my right leg and pulled up the pants leg of my pajama bottoms past my knee. He took some alcohol swabs off the tray and began to wipe down both my knee and elbow. Taking a syringe off the tray, he injected it into my knee and then took another one to inject into my elbow. “We are going to need to wait a few minutes for the numbing agent to take full effect,” he said. My dad then asked, “How is this going to help in finding out what is going on with Will?” Dr. Kutner responded, “This is a useful tool in diagnosing many different types of diseases, but what Dr. Cameron and I will be looking for, in particular, is autoimmune diseases and I will also be looking for mycobacterial inflections where a Synovial Biopsy is the only way to properly diagnose them.” “Elaina and I felt a lot better after meeting y’all yesterday and this just confirms to me that y’all are doing all you can to figure this out,” my dad said. With a small smile, Dr. Kutner said, “Thank you, my passion is helping patients like Will get the proper diagnosis so that they receive the care that they need.” Turning to me he said, “Are you ready?” I nodded and said, “Yes.” Taking a large needle off of the tray, he turned to me and said, “I’m going to start with your right knee. I’m going to need you to stay as still as possible.” I nodded, then watched as Dr. Kutner plunged the needle into my knee. It was odd that I felt no pain but just pressure from the force of the needle going in. He then pulled the plunger back and I watched as the syringe filled with what looked like bloody pus. He set the needle back onto the tray and grabbed a cotton ball and tape to cover the puncher wound from the needle. He took another needle and repeated the same process on my left elbow. As he was pulling down my pajama pants leg and pulling up the covers for me, he asked, “That was too bad, was it, Will?” I said, “No, it didn’t hurt at all.” He said, “Dr. Cameron, Dr. Taub, and I will see you in the morning to go over some of the primary results from yesterday’s blood work and today’s scans. I should have the results back from today’s biopsy either Thursday or Friday.” I said, “OK.” My mom then said, “Thank you, Dr. Kutner.” Not long after Dr. Kutner left; I fell asleep. I woke back up to the intense need to vomit.

Great chapter. The suspense is killing me on waiting to find out what Beth wasn't willing to tell Carly about her parents until they get to Amanda's house. I can see either Carly staying in the diaper dimension to be with Beth if she is unable to repotty train because of her mom's experience the first 5 years back home or Beth going with Carly to her home dimension if Carly can repotty train to avoid the issues of being a mid.

I agree. She could be what Sarah Silverman was for normalizing childhood and adolescents bed wetting.

I did the same thing in middle and high-school too. Since I lived in a household of 7 with no privacy, I could only do it for 5 to 10 minutes before or after getting out the shower. I was too scared to go down the aisle by myself. I had an fear that people would think I needed diapers for some reason by just walking down it. It also didn't help that my Dad threatened to put me in goodnites for my bedwetting and I didn't want anyone to find out. Thinking back, I wet the enough to justify needing them until I was at least 11.

I'm partial to the early 2000s since that was when I was old enough to pay attention to the diaper brands and is probably why I like cloth back diapers even though I got out diapers right before they became popular. I am a twin myself and me and my twin were not daytime potty trained until right before we turned 4. This was the reason we didn't go to 3k. If the twins are born very premature(2 lbs 1 oz) like myself then out growing size 6 would not be a problem. I could have fit in them until at least middle school and could probably still fit in them until high school. I started HS at 67lbs.

As must as I hate that Wattpad may do a blanket ban on ABDL content, they need to do something. The sheer amount of underage sexual content on that site is sickening. Also it seems that over 50% of the ABDL content was written by a 5th grader and is unreadable. This why I'm not even bothering to post my current story on that site. I'm mainly writing it for myself anyway and the ABDL community.