Alan UK

Hello.

I used to regularly look at http://www.wellpadded.co.uk and http://www.carefet.com to see if there was anything worth joining for, and would join for a month from time to time.

Back in 2009, I had some problems with my gall bladder - lots of pain, with a few trips to the hospital - admitted for a few days then released to let things calm.

Try searching for 'bedwetting hypnosis' on Youtube.

This has got me thinking.

Yup - just over the hill. I go to Dursley pool every week.

I used to come over to the States three or four times every year, but after quite a few terrible experiences with the TSA I no longer bother - I usually go to Canada or mid-Europe instead. Whilst many Americans will say that they don't care, I will not be the only person doing this - there will be hundreds of thousands, if not millions of people choosing to spend their time and money elsewhere in the world. I guess that America doesn't need money at the moment. Ho hum.

I've had this in the past where I have drunk too much liquid (not just alcohol). It can be one of the first symptoms of water intoxication http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Water_intoxication

me too!

I'll be there - probably from about 12:30 ish. It's my first time, so please be gentle....

I'm just North of Bristol in Glos - if anybody would like a meet-up, i'd be there.

Yes, if you place an order with them, they will usually allow a pickup if you say that you are going to be in Coventry. Alternatively, I found 107 results for 'mobility shop' in Leicester on yell.com Just go through the list and call them up. Most will have something in stock at a good price.

You are only 25 or so miles away from Coventry, and the UK home of Abena - Abena UKwhere you could order and pick up from them. Please keep it vanilla - so many good suppliers no longer allow pickups because of creepy AB/DL talk.

You're right, of course. I'm 33, they are 70 later this year, and have been married 50 years. Well spotted. Thanks for the feedback.

Tt became pretty clear that she was willing to go along with it whilst she thought that it was a dare, or game to see what we could do for each other, she wasn't particularly interested in continuing it long term. She wore for me I think four times in total - including one regrettable incident going for a longer walk - talk about chafe. I found Sarah on facebook again earlier this year and she's now a nurse. I wonder whether years of looking after her little brother had an effect on that. What finally killed the relationship was that she was just so damn needy - it wore me down after a while. It was also quite clear that what she really wanted - even at seventeen - was to get pregnant and have children, and i'm only just about ready for that now! I have been thinking about writing this for quite some time, mainly to get my own thoughts in order. I've just re-read what I have written, and every part (except from her brother's name - that isn't important) is absolutely true. I realised that I rushed the last part, which to me makes it sound a little like wishful thinking - it isn't, but my writing style for this kind of thing is very poor. I'm a type of scientist now, and can easily write factual reports, but didn't think that this kind of account needed bullet points.

I posted this on another board yesterday, but as I come here most often, thought that I would post it here as well. I don't know if this is the correct place to put it, as it's kind of an introduction. It is also an absolutely true incident that happened to me a few years ago. At the age of eighteen, I was working as a lifeguard at the local swimming pool. Whilst lifeguarding has a reputation for being exciting and interesting, I can tell you now that it is neither of those things – hours and hours of boredom sat watching other people having fun. I did just about everything to break up the monotony – working out how many ceiling tiles there were (lots), working out how many litres of water there were in the pool (really lots), and seeing how many pretty girls there were in the pool (almost none). Sarah had been coming to the pool with a couple of friends every Saturday for a couple of years. Like most regulars, I got to recognise them but never really took much notice. She was sixteen at the time, and like most girls of that age, was a little shy and only really spoke to the group of people that she came along with. One bored Saturday evening, I was in charge of the large public jacuzzi, Sarah was sat alone to her thoughts whilst her friends used the large flumes. I can’t quite remember how we got chatting, but I remember that half an hour felt like 2 minutes. She was a couple of years younger than me with long blonde hair and a pretty face with a nice smile. Sarah was busy studying for her GCSE’s at the same time that I was studying for my A’ levels. Over the weeks we became quite friendly, chatting away every time she came to the pool. It got to the point that I actually started looking forward to going to work at the pool on a Saturday afternoon – and spent the whole time looking around to see whether Sarah and her friends had arrived yet. I didn’t have a great deal of experience with girls at that time, and it took me weeks and weeks to pluck up the courage to ask her out to the cinema – I really liked this girl and was desperate for her to say yes. When I asked her she smiled, said “Of Course” and said that she thought I was never going to ask. Over the course of the next few weeks, we took the first tentative steps towards really getting to know each other, the usual teenage stuff really, cinema, shopping, swimming, sitting around in fast food places. After a few weeks of dating and getting to know one another, it seemed like the time to introduce each other to our parents in as low key way as possible. First she came over to my house for dinner, then a few days later I went over to hers. Whilst I come from a very ‘normal’ household – two parents that have been married for ever (sixty years this year) and have one older sister, Sarah was from a slightly less structured background. Her parents had split up a year or so before and she had shuffled between the parents during the divorce before finally settling with her mother. Sarah had a brother about my age who I got on with reasonably – he was into things that I wasn’t, like massive amounts of hash. She also had one brother about a year younger than herself – I will call him James (the only thing that I have changed in this story). James had been disabled since birth, with multiple complex mental disabilities and a general developmental delay. Whilst he was about the size of Sarah, he couldn’t talk and certainly couldn’t look after himself. James was my first experience with any kind of disability, and I just tried to be as nice to him as I could. He was a friendly child, who smiled all of the time and even though he was non-vocal, you could pretty much tell how he was feeling. Whilst it was never openly stated, I got the feeling that James had been a large part in the break up of the family the year before – Sarah’s mother spent absolutely all of her time looking after James – feeding, changing and clothing him. One thing that I had noticed when I had been at Sarah’s house was the bottom half of a wardrobe stacked with packets and packets of Attends diapers – the same type that I wore whenever I could at home. It wasn’t of great interest as I’m certainly not interested in seeing other males in diapers – I enjoy wearing them and seeing pictures of pretty women wearing them. Ever since I can remember, I have been interested in diapers. I remember as a child making makeshift diapers from a towel and a bin bag – I didn’t know why they facinated me then, and I don’t know now. As I got older and had the ability to travel wider distances, I found that I could get hold of ‘proper’ diapers – starting with the terrible ‘staydry’ pants that Boots sold at the time, and moving on to the really good Attends at the time. They were a light blue colour, and when folded were almost square – that was how much room there was between the legs. I had been buying a pack every six months or so and smuggling them into my bedroom. Underneath the fitted drawers in my bedroom there was a small piece of wood screwed in to cover a gap. I had realised that if I removed the screws and replaced the screw covers, I could use the space for diapers without my parents knowing. To get to them, I carefully slid a ruler between the cover and the drawers and flicked the piece of wood away – the perfect hiding place. Over the months that I got to know Sarah more and more, I had begun to realise that she was quite an un-self confident girl, always looking for reassurance, and particularly looking for male approval. I realise now looking back many years that she hadn’t had much attention from her father, so was seeking approval from me. At the time, I was happy to give all the reassurance and attention that was needed, but over time it did become tiring. Sarah often wore a tartan pinafore dress, with a white top and thick tights underneath. As we started to explore each other in a more physical way, I had noticed something a little strange. First of all she wore a normal, pair of knickers, followed by the tights. On top of that, the white top fastened with poppers between the legs as was the fashion at the time. On top of those Sarah wore another pair of knickers “Just to hold everything together – lots of girls do that”, with the pinafore dress on the top. Other than the many layers being a bit of a fumble when we were ‘getting to know each other better’, I didn’t really thing about it. I can’t remember how it came about, but every now and again when we were discussing underwear, she would say that she quite liked to be ‘held together’ and have lots of layers on her bottom half – meaning around her midriff. It took many months for me to put two and two together and start thinging about Sarah in a diaper – I would often fantasize about it, but being just eighteen I would never have the courage to mention or ask her about it. By this time, her family had moved about an hours drive away to the coast, meaning that we only got to see each other every other weekend. When Christmas came up, I was invited to go and stay at their house for a few days. We all had a great time, it was pretty low key, but mainly we got to spend some time together. One particular day, Sarah’s mother took both brothers away for the day – I seem to remember it was a visit to their father’s house, but the two of us stayed behind just mooching around. As could be expected of two teenagers who had been with family every moment of the day for quite a few days, as soon as they were out of sight down the road, we were in bed together. One thing led to another led to another, and as things were progressing very nicely, Sarah made a request that she had made quite a few times before. I won’t go into too many graphic details, but she wanted me to do something to her that I wasn’t that keen on at the time – having had no experience of it. I jokingly said that I would agree to it on one condition – I was allowed to tell her exactly what to wear for the rest of the day until her mother and brothers came home. She readily agreed – partly because she could see her own goal in sight, and partly (I think) because she knew that she was willing to wear anything in her wardrobe. Half an hour later we lay there in post coital bliss, heavy limbed and with me thinking that her request hadn’t been nearly as bad as I had thought it would be. A few minutes later after a shower, Sarah was absolutely true to her word. Wearing only a towel she came back into her bedroom, opened her wardrobe and asked what exactly I had in mind. I kissed her, and asked her to put a bra on. Whilst I’ve no problem taking one off, putting one onto her seemed like a lot more work – better that she was comfortable and did it herself. I then got her to lie down on her bed and covered her back up with her duvet. By this time, she was getting more and more curious, but was obviously still up for this. I went next door into her brothers room, opened the wardrobe and ‘borrowed’ a medium attends diaper with the number ‘9’ printed down the middle. Coming back into her room, my heart was beating so hard I thought it was going to burst out of my chest. I remember now the look on her face when I showed her what I wanted her to wear – curiosity mainly, but then resignation and she said with a smile “A deal’s a deal”. I fitted the diaper snugly onto her, which was surprisingly difficult. Until that time, I had only put diapers onto myself – it is much more difficult when you can’t feel where everything is. The diaper was followed by the thick wooly tights (it was December, even thought it wasn’t that cold) and then by one of her many tops which fastened between the legs. On top of all of this, I asked her to put on a pair of knickers – I remember that she pulled out a pair of large, full, white knickers with little coloured diamonds on them. To finish it off, she put on her pinafore dress. I was so excited as she walked up and down her room, and examined her behind in the mirror to see whether the diaper was noticable – just about but you had to look very very hard, or feel for it as I did a number of times whilst kissing her. After a few minutes walking around the house, I suggested that we might walk the 3 or 4 minutes into the middle of town. We went quite slowly as I didn’t want the diaper to rub and hurt her. We mooched around the arcade, and looked for any shops that were open in that dead period between Christmas and New Year, Sarah whispered in my ear that we needed to go home as she needed to go for a wee. My heart danced as I whispered back that she should slowly go in her diaper – just to see how it felt. It took a little bit of gentle convincing, but Sarah finally agreed – the look on her face was priceless – lost deep in thought and concentration On the slow walk home, I was trying to work out whether I should tell her about my long standing interest in diapers, and was just plucking up the courage when she said to me with a wicked grin that when we got home, she was going to do the same to me – just to see how I liked it. I remember just saying that this seemed fair to me, and saying no more as we walked home with my hand slowly patting her by now slightly droopy bottom. Back in her room, Sarah made me undress, and went through the same procedure that we had gone through only a couple of hours previously – only this time with me lying down. After she had diapered me, she stripped off down to the diaper – by this time clearly soaked half way up the bottom and sat astride me. I was in absolute heaven as the diapered tickle fight began with both of us in fits of giggles.

Watched episode 7 and it wasn't in there. Have just watched episode 8 and found it.

I'm going away with work for a few days tomorrow, and will definately be wetting the bed. I spend the whole of the day increasing my liquid (mainly water) intake - not to dangerous levels, just to make sure that i'm really well hydrated. I will probably drink around 4-6 litres during the day, and pee loads of times. With dinner, i'll have a couple of beers to make sure that i'm really relaxed, then get back to the hotel. I put a waterproof mattress cover onto the bed, followed by the sheet and a very large disposable bed pad. Then I get into an Abena X-plus, and take a couple of zopiclone (sleeping) tablets. A few more sips of water and i'm out like a light. I always wake up absolutely soaked, both the diaper and the bed pad - but never the bed, at about 8am, feeling very refreshed and ready for the day ahead.

I have never really been into the 'binge and purge' thing, and although i've noticed that sometimes i'm a little more interested than others, diapers have pretty much been a constant since the age of about 6. About a year ago, I ended up in hospital on and off (more on) for about 6 months. For a lot of the time, I was absolutely off my face on morphine as well as lots of other drugs - mainly to stop the pain, put me to sleep, and try to reduce infections. As an occasional bedwetter (who might have made a little more of it than I should), I spent most of the 6 months wearing a diaper. Almost all of the time I was self caring - I don't want to put anybody to any more work and trouble than I have to. Twice - after operations when I couldn't sort myself out, the nurses changed me, which wasn't as satisfying as you might have thought. Anyway, after the final operation (which removed a dead bit from inside me - nice), I am absolutely sorted and back to work. For the last 6 months or so. i've had absolutely no interest whatsoever in diapers. Only in the last week have I started visiting ABDL sites again, and have fished the diapers from the back of the wardrobe. I was wondering whether any of you have gone through the same sort of cycle after wearing a lot - perhaps after giving up 24/7?

I wonder whether they have to put her into diapers for the duration of the sleep?

I'll be there - from around 12:00. Definately on the no photo list. This is my first ever meeting with others, so a little shy. Hopefully it'll be a good experience.

I'd be interested in meeting up.

I notice that 'Bedwetter magazine' proudly sponsors Dailydiapers, and on the front page it shows a banner, with the title 'Get Issue #1 for free'. I have clicked on the link as i'm interested in having a read, and really can't work out how to get the free 1st issue. If it's any good, i'll subscribe, but I would want to see at least some of an issue first. Any ideas?

[rant] Where on EARTH did you get that from? Have you tried the healthcare systems in every other country, or are you just spouting the normal "It is from the USA, therefore must be the best in the world" stuff? Here in the UK, we consider that we have a pretty mediocre healthcare system, yet if anybody from around the world turns up on our doorstep with a medical problem, we will look after them. In the UK, you could turn up to any hospital, and see a doctor/consultant without having to prove that you have paid the correct people the correct amount of money. Yes, it may take a little bit of waiting, but then if you are imjured you probably don't have anywhere better to go. I'm not saying that America is neccessarily worse than anywhere else, just please remember that you are just one country amongst about 200. Don't believe the press when they say that everything you have is bigger/better/more democratic than anywhere else - they are just trying to gain the popular vote. I love the States, and visit regularly. What intreagues me is that the majority of people are so blinkered in their views, and don't even read international news (Ok, I have my tin hat on and am ready for the incoming assault that I've just put myself up for) [/rant]

Well, time for a report back. I rang the hospital's short stay unit where I was told to report. I told them that I was incontinent when I'm asleep, and asked whether I should bring my own protection. The nurse on duty didn't really know, but said "Yeah, that sounds like a good idea". I reported in with them at 6pm on Monday evening, and when I turned up (With about 10 Abena X-Plus in my bag) I was shown to my bed, and asked the nurse where I should put my diapers. She was a little taken back - the other nurse obviously hadn't told her anything. She said to pop them into the bedside cabinet where they could be got at. I met the anethesatist and surgeon, then sat around watching the tv and reading. As a side matter, the mattress was covered in a type of rubber material, the duvet was completely made of a rubber material, and the pillows had protectors on - they are obviously used to this kind of thing. At 9pm, everybody was starting to get ready for bed, and as I started to get ready, the nurse came up to me and without prompting drew the curtains around my bed, and said "I thought you might like a little privacy. Would you like any help?" I thanked her for the curtains, but declined the offer of help. That night I didn't sleep very well, but my diaper was more than a little wet in the morning. The nurse came along, and pointed me in the right direction for the shower, and suggested that as my operation (on my ankle and lower leg) was booked for an hours time, that I might want to "Wear more protection, as I would be asleep for a little while". I guess they didn't want me peeing on their operating table. I didn't need telling twice, so took another diaper with me to the shower. I woke up from the operation feeling somewhat groggy, and after about an hour had come around enough to wonder about my diaper - unfortunately it was dry. I hadn't been allowed to eat or drink anything since lunch time the day before. A while later I ended back on the ward, and started drinking to get rid of the nasty taste in my mouth, and because I had a very sore throat from where they had tubed me during the op. About 6pm I was somewhat doped up on pain killers, but started to need to pee, so decided there and then to pee in my diaper. I don't know how long later, a nurse came to check on me and in the couse of looking at my leg must have noticed that my diaper was soggy. She went to get a collegue, and then drew the curtains. With one nurse either side (one pretty, one more motherly), they took the wet diaper off me and re-diapered me. It was a reasonable job - they had obviously done it before, but it was a little loose. Once done, they gave me some more pain killers and left me alone to sleep. Wednesday morning I woke up at about 6am needing to go to the toilet both ways. As I couldn't move at all, I decided that I could get away with it, as I could blame the pain killers if anybody asked, so went there and then. It was quite a thrill, but I managed to get back to sleep. I guess around 8am a different nurse came around, and knew all about my incontinence, as she asked me discreetly but directly whether I needed a "Freshen up". I said that I did, and because I couldn't lift myself off the bed (op on ankle), two nurses came to sort me out again. They didn't flinch at all when they found what state I was in - they simply sorted it out but didn't re-diaper me. The rest of the morning was checking to see that the wound was healing nicely, and that I can get around on crutches. 1pm saw my wife coming to collect me from hospital to take me home. An excellent experience all round. One little extra bit - my wife knows that I enjoy wearing diapers, bt only joins in occasionally; either wearing herself, changing me, or doing other things. When we got home, she immediately asked whether I would like a diaper on, so that I wouldn't have to bother getting up to the toilet. I agreed instantly, and have been sat around for the last couple of days with a thick Abena on. She won't change me, but has no problems with me wearing all day and all night. Long may it last. Sorry that this is something of an epic post, but I thought that you might like to know what went on.