Cerebellumitis

[littleJaina]

This story is not finished yet. Let me know what you think...

Jessica did not really want to go to the wedding, but she knew that she should. She was friends with Sara after all, and just because she had been sweethearts with Bobby in the past didn’t mean she could be happy that the two of them had found true love together. Still, it was going to be awkward, and she was not looking forward to flying back and forth to Boston in a single trip. She wasn’t expecting to meet Jonathan.

Jonathan had been in grad school with Bobby, but he was working in Dallas now, for a private space travel corporation. They ended up sitting next to each other on the plane, strangely enough. He was 27 and pretty much perfect in Jessica’s opinion. It came as a funny surprise when they both pulled out the same book to read on the plane, and then realized they were bound for the same destination. He rescheduled his flight home to coincide with hers, and by the end of the weekend she thought she was in heaven. He had some weird tastes in food, (raw oysters – yuck), but otherwise seemed perfect. She knew it was crazy, but within two weeks she was already having to ignore wedding bells in the back of her head every time she saw him.

Then he got sick. It was very sudden. They went camping in the state park, and suddenly he started feeling ill. Within six hours she was running desperately back to the ranger station to find a place where a cell phone worked or there was a payphone to call 911 because he was having a seizure. By the time they got to the hospital, he was in a coma, and stayed that way for two weeks. It was awkward meeting his family for the first time around his hospital bed, but she spent as much time there as she could. She had finally met a great guy and she couldn’t stand the thought of losing him so quickly.

At first the doctors couldn’t tell them what was wrong. Then they finally noticed something in his scans. An unidentified bacterium seemed to be infecting his muscles, and his brain scans were showing a “smoothing” of his cerebellum. Strangely, his cerebrum remained completely unaffected. Finally the fever broke. The doctors were hopeful this meant he would come out of the coma soon. They kept his ankles and hand restrained so that he wouldn’t pull out the feeding tube when he woke up, and so he couldn’t hurt them if he had a seizure.

When Jonathan first started coming around they kept him groggy so they could run tests on him. Because of the feeding tube and restraints, he couldn’t talk. However, they communicated basic ideas with him with the “blink once for yes, twice for no” idea. The doctors were concerned about his muscle tone and the fact that his cerebellum still appeared so smooth, but they were happy that he seemed to know who and where he was. They finally felt they knew enough to meet with Jonathan and his family. The family asked Jessica to stay as well.

“From what we can tell,” the doctor began, “Jonathan contracted a serious and, until now, undiscovered bacterium. It seems to be related to meningitis, but effects the body in a very different way. It causes swelling in the cerebrum that seems to remove the memory stored there. It also seems to affect the striated muscle tissue for some reason. The good news is that we have wiped the bacteria out of his system. It did no damage to any of the cognitive functions of his brain.”

“Ok, so what is the bad news?” Jonathan’s father asked.

“Well, the bad news is that it appears any of his learned coordination has been…” the doctor hesitated as if trying to find the easiest way to say it, “erased.”

“What does that mean?” asked Jonathan’s mother. Jonathan was just staring at the doctor. The feeding tube was still down his throat. Jessica wished they had taken it out so he could talk about what he was feeling. She walked around beside him and started playing with his hair to let him know she was there. She wanted to hold his hand, but she suddenly realized it was balled into a fist near where it was restrained against the bedrail. The neck brace they had put on him to keep him from snapping his neck during the seizures didn’t let him lift his head, but she felt him relax a bit after she was there. It made her feel good.

“Well,” the doctor began, “when children are born we begin learning almost immediately, in two ways. We learn cognitive skills, like how to recognize our parents, and later things like shapes, colors, reading. Our bodies also learn coordination skills, like how to crawl, walk, eat. Some of this coordination memory is in the cerebellum, and some is in the actual nerves and muscle tissue. His cerebellum seems to have been wiped almost to a clean slate, though we luckily destroyed the bacterium before it could do full damage to his muscles. Surprisingly the seizures from the chaos in his cerebellum seemed to help keep up some of the muscle tone so that the infection could not destroy that as quickly.” Jessica noticed tears in Jonathan’s eyes. She bent to wipe them off.

“Doctor,” Jessica interrupted, “since the infection is gone, does that mean the seizures are over?”

“Well, um, we believe so,” the doctor answered.

“Could you remove the restraints then, and the feeding tube. I really think that Jonathan should be able to talk to us during this. I’m sorry, but it just feels like we’re talking about him like he’s not sitting right here,” Jessica said. The doctor opened his mouth, but could not seem to say anything. Finally Jessica put two and two together. “Do you mean,” she asked, “ When you say his cerebellum was wiped clean, do you mean he doesn’t remember anything? He doesn’t remember how to talk? “ Jessica finished the last part in a shaky voice. Jonathan’s eyes shot wide in fear, and his mother bent her head into her husbands shoulder.

“That is a difficult question,” the doctor replied, “speech, like many other skills, like writing, and… err… toileting, is not controlled by both the cerebrum and the cerebellum. Jonathan understand what we are saying because he remember language. He knows what words mean, and can remember saying them. However, his cerebellum does not remember how to send the muscles to his mouth to form the sounds, and his tongue and jaw muscles have lost some of their memory of how to shape themselves into letters and words. He cannot write to use either, because it is unlikely his hands could make the letters,” the doctor paused. Jessica looked down and noticed Jonathans clenched hands in a new light. The doctor continued, “right now he probably cannot even point reliably.” Jessica exhaled.

“Well,” Jessica began, “what if she showed him cards. He could blink when we got to the right letter.” She got out a notebook she carried in her pocket and began scribbling the alphabet. Then she started, slowly, pointing to each letter in turn, and writing down the ones that Jonathan indicated. It took a long time, but Jonathan’s parents watched attentively, and even the doctor was politely patient. When she had finished, the short note simply said, “Take it out”.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” the doctor said.

“We have to do it sometime,” Jessica answered, “Jonathan wants to know what has happened to him. Is there a medical reason you don’t want to do this, or are you just afraid of the shock?”

“He cannot eat by himself. He cannot chew. He cannot use the toilet. He cannot do anything. His muscles are untrained and may spasm. If we take away all the tubes and restraints, it will be more difficult to care for him. He will need to be fed and changed like an infant. I’m not sure that is in his best interest right now.”

“When will it be in his best interest? If we wait, will things change?” Jonathan’s father asked?

“Well, no not without extensive therapy, and the restraints have to be removed for that. However, it may simply be kinder to him to put him into a nursing facility like this, and not put him through such a painful process,” the doctor answered. Suddenly Jonathan started blinking “No, no, no, no, no” and trying to move. He only managed to thrash a bit, but the affect was certain. No matter how hard it was, Jonathan wanted to try.

“Please,” whispered his mother, “take them out. Let us see what my son is now, so we know how long the road is.” The doctor sighed, but pushed the call button and asked the nurse to bring in the necessary technicians.

********************************************************************************

****

Jonathan lay on the hospital bed watching everyone around him. Jessica was there, standing back to give the technicians room. He was glad his parents had asked her to stay. Before he got sick, he had been thinking of buying her a ring. He knew it was fast, but Jessica was so wonderful. During his coma he had the strangest dreams with her in them. Listening to the doctor today, he began to wonder if any of them could come true. He couldn’t very well ask her to marry him if he couldn’t even talk. From the way the doctor made it sound he would be little more than a baby. Jonathan worried about that. He wanted to know what had happened, but he couldn’t help but feel anxious at the thought of taking the tubes out. The doctor had talked about being fed and “changed”. A feeding tube and catheter definitely felt much more dignified than the idea of being spoon fed mashed peas or… He wanted to shudder, but his body didn’t cooperate. His eyes leaked tears though, at the thought of having to have someone change a wet diaper on him. The doctor said it would have to happen if there was to be any chance of therapy though. Jonathan had too much to do in his life. He was on the verge of a big breakthrough with his research at work, something that would really turn the possibility of manned space travel around. He had so much to look forward to with Jessica. He couldn’t stand the thought of giving all that up just to lie in a bed like a vegetable. Still, would he ever be able to write down his ideas again? How could he have babies with Jessica if he were in diapers himself? Would she be too grossed out to even talk to him again? He moved his eyes to the side to look at her again. At least THOSE still cooperated with what he wanted them to do. She looked concerned but not disgusted, and tried to give him a reassuring smile. Oh, how he loved Jessica.

Then came the shock. The nurses pulled out the tube from his mouth. Then pulled out the catheter. The catheter stung a bit on the way out and before he could stop himself his throat gave a cry. It was raw, from the tube, but sounded distinctly infantile, only deeper. It scared him, and the fear seemed to make his chest heave more and just redoubled the crying. He felt humiliated, but forced himself to try to calm down. He hated to look at Jessica, but he did. She was standing near his mom, ringing her hands as if to restrain herself from bolting. He wondered if she wanted to run to him, or out the door. He tried to look down at himself, but couldn’t see much since they had him lying flat. He felt something though, and realized they must have put the diaper on him while he was busy getting over the shock of the cries. He was not sad to have missed out on noticing that. He felt someone raise his head, to remove the neck brace, and caught a glimpse of the white plastic. Shame rushed over him but he quelled it before more than two or three rough sobs had come from his tortured throat. He had to concentrate on the fact that he could get through this. After all, if babies grew the control, so could he. Adult nerves did not learn as easily, but he would get the best therapists he could find to help him out.

Then came the worst shock of all. They removed his wrist and ankle restraints. His muscles seemed to suddenly clench, and his knees sprang up almost to his chest, and his wrists sprang in. The pulling on his legs pulled the diaper tight, and he could feel the cottony absorbent material tight over his bottom. He noticed his fists were clenched, but couldn’t remember how to make them open. He tried to move, but nothing worked right. Sometimes he managed to get the right limb, but mostly he just seemed to randomly flail out. He felt like an overturned bug, and had to force himself not to think about how ridiculous he must look.

Finally, all the technicians left except for the doctor and one nurse. Jessica practically leaped to his bedside, and his mother slowly made her way to the other. Jessica took his hand and started straitening the fingers so she could hold it. He was so relieved, he wanted to kiss her. It felt almost as good when his mother kissed his forehead. He might look ridiculous, but at least no one had abandoned him.

********************************************************************************

**

Jessica had a hard time staying away from the bed when they were “un-tubing” Jonathan. When he cried out it was all she could do not to run to him. It was hard to watch them diaper that strong man who had been the father of so many children in her dreams, but she knew that things could be much worse. After all, the doctor said nothing about him being impotent. She would find good therapists for him, and hopefully he would be back on his brilliant feet soon enough. When they let the restraints go, she almost cried. His muscles were so untrained. He looked like a huge squalling newborn for a few seconds. She made herself calm down though. It was just the disease. It had messed up the nerve connections a bit. All she had to do was help him grow them back. She practically vaulted to his side as soon as the technicians had left, and vaguely wished his parents were not there so that she could cover him with kisses. Still, she uncoiled his fingers so she could hold his hand. They clamped tight around hers, the way a baby’s might, but to her it felt like he was holding on to her for strength. She leaned down and whispered in his ear, “I know it’s hard, but I’ll be here for you. You are still the best thing that has ever happened to me. Don’t worry, you’ll get better soon.”

She turned back towards the doctor and asked, “So what now?”

“Well, now we need to get him into therapy. The most important things first are to teach him how to chew and swallow solid food. We may be able to feed him on a liquid diet through a bottle for a while, but he cannot make much progress like that. We also need to get his leg and arm muscles more stretched out. Then we can move to more difficult tasks like walking, and feeding himself,” the doctor answered calmly.

Jonathan’s dad stared frankly down at his son’s crotch, “How long until he can take those damned things off?” he asked gruffly. Jessica felt Jonathan’s body tense. Even though she felt bad for him, she knew that even that level of muscular reaction was a good sign, and she couldn’t help but smile to herself.

“Toileting is one of the most complex things, and adult nerves aren’t as sensitive to learning as children’s are. It’s possible that he may not completely regain continence, but that is the least of our worries. In the long run, there are many incontinence treatments other than diapers, like internal and external catheters. You asked us to take everything off, and so we did. Right now though, his gross muscle control is a lot more important than his bladder control,” the doctor answered, finally sounding slightly annoyed. “I suggest you go home now, perhaps you should start looking into rehab facilities near-by.”

As Jonathan’s parents left, Jessica made a point of staying behind. She stretched his arms and legs, and talked to him. At one point he started trying to say something, so she got back out the notebook. It was tedious, and too time consuming to be able to converse, but he told her “I love you”. That was enough to make her content.

After a couple of hours she started to hear his stomach rumble. They had watched some TV, and she had read to him. He had been embarrassed when she realized he was drooling and so started keeping a tissue close to wipe his mouth. She was glad though, that he could still blush. She was even more glad when he could smile at with his eyes when she would kiss his brow. So when she heard his stomach rumble, she called for the nurse. She was surprised, but not entirely unhappy when they brought in what looked like a baby bottle full of a nutrient formula. The nurse began to explain to Jonathan that he needed to just relax and let his “instinct” take over when she put the nipple in his mouth. They propped his bed up, and Jessica asked the nurse if she could feed it to him. The nurse looked relieved, and said to take it slowly. Jonathan started crying a little at that, but Jessica thought it may have been as much from his increased stomach rumbling as from humiliation. Still, she kissed his cheek as she put the nipple in his mouth. “Shhh sweetie,” she whispered, “you’re still my big strong guy, just let me take care of you for a little while until we can get you back on your feet. Besides, at least this way I get to stay close by.” She was glad to see him fall asleep while she fed him and rubbed his brow. When the nurse came back she asked if she could stay the night. She had not been allowed to before, but the nurse seemed more relaxed now, and consented. She unfolded the “pull out chair” and settled down.

Jonathan almost choked when Jessica wanted to “feed him.” But then he thought about it. He supposed it wasn’t really any worse than having a nurse do it. Besides, the fact that she was still by his side meant that maybe he could have a future with her after all. Besides, didn’t the marriage vows say something like “in sickness and in health”. Wasn’t this just a “sickness”? If she could stand by him now, then they might be wonderful together. Still, it was humiliating to lay back and nurse on a bottle. After a few moments though, he began to find it comforting. Jessica murmured to him and while he found it ridiculous and faintly patronizing that she called him a “big strong guy” he found comfort in the fact that she was trying to reassure him. He kisses were tender, and he decided that, even like this, she still cared for him, maybe even found him attractive. With those happy thoughts in his mind, he drifted off into sleep still letting his mouth suckle the bottle. The nutrient formula was sweet, he was loved, and his tummy was comfortably getting full. Maybe life was not so bad after all.

[the diaper mike]

more plz

[littleJaina]

CONTINUED....

When he woke up he could tell it was night. The lights were all very dim. He was thirsty and he realized that he felt very itchy between his legs. Then the smell hit him. “Oh no,” he thought. He had thought a lot about the fact that he would wet diapers. He had never even thought about having BMs in them. He wanted to ignore it. He tried desperately to go back to sleep, but the mess was far too itchy and gross feeling. He tried to reach for the nurse call button, but of course, that didn’t work. His limbs merely flailed around, and when his legs kicked, they shifted the mess around his bottom. The sudden increase of sensation around his sensitive private parts overwhelmed him, and as he gasped in shock he felt the familiar spasms in his chest. He began to wail, hating how much it reminded him of a baby’s cry. Instantly, Jessica was by his side. He had not realized she was still there. He did not want her to see him like this. He tried and tried to stop crying, but every time he shifted it started up again. She was asking him what was wrong, even got out the notebook, but he couldn’t calm down enough to tell her. Tears were coming down his cheeks. Finally she hit the nurse call button just as the nurse was coming through the door to find out what all the cries were about.

“He just started crying,” Jessica said frantically, “I can’t figure out what’s wrong.”

“I think I smell it,” the nurse said. Jessica blushed.

“Do you mean he….” She trailed off, then continued, “You think he has a dirty diaper?”. Immediately she bent down and pulled the elastic leg of the diaper back. Then she grimaced. “Can you show me how to change him?”

“Well,” said the nurse, “I’m really supposed to ask you to leave the room.” Jonathan managed to calm himself down, but at that he started to wail again, more calmly this time, and blinking “no, no, no” furiously again. “Still.,” the nurse continued, “he seems to want you to stay,” she told Jessica.

Jessica looked right at Jonathan and asked, “Jonathan, sweetie, I know this is embarrassing, but can I please stay? I want to learn how to help you out. You know the doctor said this might last a while, and you can’t stay in the hospital forever. Please let her show me how to take care of you. “

The nurse looked at Jonathan’s eyes and said officially, “Are you giving her permission to stay in the room during personal procedures?” Jonathan blinked a slow “yes”. “Well, that’s good enough for me,” the nurse said, and made a notation in his chart. Then Jonathan looked away and tried to pretend he was somewhere else while the nurse and the woman he loved began to unfasten his, gulp, dirty diaper.

******************************************************************************

Jessica was terrified when Jonathan woke her with his cries, and became even more frantic when she couldn’t calm him enough to find out what was wrong. She was embarrassed that she hadn’t even bothered to notice the smell or think about what might be bothering him. When the nurse pointed it out, she wanted to hit herself. She realized she was going to have to start thinking more along the lines of understanding his needs without explanation if she was going to help her sweetheart through the first difficult stages of his recovery. She was very glad that Jonathan gave the consent to let her learn to help him. She was worried that he would withdraw from her. It was horrible that this had happened to him so soon after they met, but the doctor had said therapy could help, and she was not about to give up on the best guy she’d ever met just because of the “bad timing” of an illness. Still, she had to force her stomach to stop being queasy when the nurse pulled back the diaper. The smell really WAS bad, and the liquid diet seemed to make for less than solid bowel movements. The nurse showed her how to push back on his legs to lift his bottom so she could remove the diaper, and how to use wet wipes to clean all the necessary places. She showed her all the “hiding places” she needed to clean on his male anatomy. They must have shaved him earlier in the week, because there was not much hair was still very short and easy to clean. While helping the nurse clean him was pretty gross at first, as he began to get clean she started noticing him as a man. It was the first time she had ever seen him “down there” and she couldn’t help admiring the masculine shapes, especially since erections were apparently a truly automatic response of the body. He grew quite hard while the nurse was instructing her on to rub the zinc oxide cream into places where he was developing a diaper rash. She was almost sorry to have to pull the diaper back up between his legs, but proud of the way she managed to tape it snugly in place. She also realized there was something strangely attractive about seeing his hardened manhood straining against the soft smooth plastic of an adult diaper. “Weird” she thought to herself, and she was ashamed that she would even have such a thought. Obviously Jonathan did NOT like being in diapers and it was disloyal to find them attractive on him. Then again, the doctor had said that the incontinence might be one of the last things fixed. That means that Jonathan might be able to live a pretty normal life for a long while before being toilet trained again. Was in necessarily bad that she could be attracted to him in diapers. Wouldn’t it make a sexual relationship with him potentially easier? These were the thoughts that were running through her head as she gave him a small bottle of water, and then lay down to finish sleeping for the night.

********************************************************************************

****

Jonathan could hardly believe it when he became aroused during his diaper change. He was trying hard to not even think about it, but it was incredibly frustrating to feel a diaper closing over his erect penis and realize there was nothing he could do to get over his arousal. He was also ashamed to think that maybe Jessica would think he enjoyed being like this. She had just had to clean smelly poop off his bottom, sex was probably the farthest thing from her mind, and here he was with a raging hard-on. Of course, the nurse explained that “physical stimulation of the area” often had that result in male patients, but still. He could not very well expect her tolerate his excitement of her cleaning his excrement. Still, it did feel good to have her hands rubbing in the cream. She was beautiful, and loving, and so soft when she did it. Now he only wished she had continued rubbing long enough for him to ejaculate so he wasn’t so frustrated. He was thirsty too, though, and the water she fed him was good. Besides, he was very tired. His body was still recovering from its battle with his infection and sleep took him almost immediately. In his dream Jessica changed him again and again, and finally he was able to release. In the morning, though his wet dream was mingled with the urine his body produced from the water bottle, and no one seemed to notice.

Jonathan spent another week in the hospital. Therapists came to see him every day, and spent several hours stretching out his legs, arms and fingers. They would talk to him while they worked, and to his mother who spent her days there, explaining the purpose of every movement. They encouraged his family to go through the routines any time they had a chance, to help familiarize his muscles with the movements. They told Jonathan to try to recognize the nerve impulses and see how much he could do on his own. A therapist he liked, named Trent, told him that when he was alone or bored, he could should try, slowly, to move his right arm until he was able to move only the right arm, while his other limbs remained still, every time.

The worst therapy was with the hospital speech therapist. Her name was Lindsey. She said the first part of his speech therapy was to learn how to swallow solid foods again. She had decided to start with strained carrots. He hated carrots, and they whatever they landed on. She also, annoyingly, insisted he look in a mirror while she fed him so he could watch himself swallow. He didn’t like looking in mirrors hardly at all these days, because he would notice the way his head still shook unsteadily, and half the time he was drooling. It was even worse during the “feeding session” because his entire mouth was usually covered in carrots.

His father came to pick his mother up shortly after five, and usually stayed to visit for about fifteen minutes. Jonathan knew his father was trying to show moral support, but understood that it must be difficult for him to see his son in such a predicament. For about an hour after his parents left he tried moving his right arm. At first it was impossible, but by the third day, he was getting it most of the time. Usually during this time a nurse would come in to change him and feed him another small bottle of water. Since he had insisted on all the tubes being removed, they insisted he drink ten bottles of water a day to stay hydrated (on top of his formula) which meant he was wet constantly. Sometimes his mother would hold the bottle for him, but after being taught how to change his diaper one time, she left it alone for the nurses to take care of. He was thankful for that. He did not know how he would react if he became erect with him mother changing him. The thought made him queasy. He was glad his digestive track was made of involuntary muscle. At least he wasn’t spitting up like an infant.

The best part of the day was when Jessica would finally come. Every day she apologized profusely for having to leave him to go to work. He wished he could reassure her that he understood. They were not married, after all, and had no legal standing, so she had no way to take a leave of absence. Every day after work she would go home, shower, and grab a bite to eat. Then she would pack her work clothes for the next day, and show up in his hospital room, already in her pajamas, to spend the night with him. He felt bad that she was wasting so much money renting an apartment she never used. It was wonderful when she would get there though. She would talk to him, and tell him about her day, and then ask if he wanted to spell anything out. Sometimes he would spell her a short note of thanks. Then she would stretch out all his muscles carefully, and read through the notes his mother had left about the therapy sessions. She would always ask how his “arm moving” was going, and he was proud that by the fifth day he could punch the air on command. He had even figured out how to make that hand open most of the way, even though it snapped closed again as soon as he wasn’t concentrating on it.

Usually after she had been there about an hour his stomach would start rumbling. She would smile at him and ask the nurse to bring in his dinner tray. She was much nicer to him than the therapist, even though she insisted he eat at least a small bowl of solid foods. She usually asked for baby oatmeal and applesauce or strained pears. It might be bland, but at least it wasn’t carrots, and even when he spit it out on accident, it didn’t stain anything.

After he had struggled though the bowl, with her constant encouragement, she would feed him a small bottle of nutrient formula, just to make sure he was full. He would get so comfortable during this that he was often drowsy. She never let him fall asleep to it anymore though, and would tickle him awake if he tried. He noticed that he wet his diaper any time she tickled him, so he tried to avoid it. Besides, if he stayed awake she would use her free hand to play with his, opening and closing each finger one at a time. It felt good to have her near him, and when she held his hands he could almost feel the nerves growing back.

After dinner she would brush his teeth, and then turn on the TV or get read to him out of a book while she rubbed his stomach in a way that the nurses said would aid in his digestion. He enjoyed this part, and often shifted his eyes in a certain way to let her know he wanted to spell something out. He could never make his messages long, but she was always patient and seemed to treasure every word. She also became good at guessing some of his thoughts before he had to spell them out in full, and this sped the process up a little bit. After she found out he could move his hand reliably, she had him punch the air when he wanted to stop on a letter. It felt a little silly at first, and must have looked ridiculous to the nurses who peeked in the door from time to time, but every time he moved she smiled so beautifully that he soon found himself liking the task more and more. The part that came next he didn’t like as much.

As Jessica rubbed his belly, he could feel his digestive system moving, and sometimes even a building pressure in his lower abdomen. He knew that meant something would happen soon, but never could pinpoint exactly when. Still, all of a sudden, he would feel his muscles contracting and a smelly, warm, slimy substance spreading around bottom. It was always hard to stop the cries when this happened. The feeling was just so bad. Still, the only thing worse than laying in a messy diaper in front of your girlfriend was laying in one while bawling like an infant. Usually he managed to keep it to minimal sobs and did his best to keep those quiet. Jessica had gotten better at noticing the smell, and his facial expressions also seemed to have developed more. Because she had started telling him that he had a cute smile again. She would quickly call the nurse to bring in changing supplies, and then deftly wipe off all the mess while the nurse watched to make sure she did not make a mistake. After that was always bath time. The nurse would help Jessica remove his gown and they would sponge him clean before changing his sheets. He always felt better after his bath. Then the nurse would bring Jessica another bottle of water, and she would hold the bottle to his mouth, and stroke his hair, and murmur “I Love You” to him until he fell asleep.

TO BE CONTINUED....

[the diaper mike]

more plz

[littleJaina]

CONTINUED....

Jessica was glad when it was finally time to move Jonathan into a more intensive rehabilitation center. He seemed to have made progress so quickly during the week in the hospital, but they kept him in his bed with little chance to move around. There was also very little privacy in the hospital. There would not be much more in the center, but she had worked diligently to choose the best place for him. The rehab center they had chosen had extensive experience in both traumatic brain injury rehabilitation and reverse regression in Alzheimer’s patients. They also offered an “out patient” program. Once she felt confident in her ability to care for Jonathan, she could arrange for him to be dropped off at his house at night, and picked up in the mornings. Of course, that meant she’d have to give up her apartment and move into his house with him.

She felt awkward about that, since they weren’t married, but it wasn’t like she was doing anything wrong. His parents had been very supportive of the decision and seemed extremely relieved that they would not have to bring him home to their house. Jonathan’s trauma was difficult for them to accept, and seemed to unnerve his father to the point that visits were always strained. His parents still loved him of course, but were more than happy to not have to provide any intimate personal care to their adult son.

In short, having Jessica move into Jonathan’s house was simply the most practical way to take care of things. For her part, Jessica could not wait to be alone with Jonathan. She could tell how much he was yearning for some “big boy fun” during his diaper changes. He had had three wet dreams in the last week. He may not be able to do much, but she thought she would be able to make him smile. His smile was beautiful, and she was very glad that it had come back so quickly.

Besides, it was silly to keep paying for her apartment when she spent almost no time there. That money could be put to much better use. Jonathan had a good amount of savings and excellent disability benefits from his job, but there was no telling how long he would have to be out of work. On top of that, while his insurance paid almost all the hospital bills, and would do the same for the rehab center, once he was home there would be many new expenses. Parts of the house would need to be modified to make it easier to move him around. They would need to hire a cleaning lady so that Jessica could focus her energies on caring for Jonathan when he was home. He would also need a whole new wardrobe. Few of his clothes were practical in his current condition. Even his causal clothes presented difficulties. Until he was able to sit up on his own, just getting a t-shirt over his head was difficult, and jeans with buttons and zippers were just obstacles in dressing. Jessica was looking into disability websites and found some clothes that might be useful. Shirt that looked normal in the front, but were split down the back with buttons, snaps, zippers, or Velcro to keep them closed. Pants that could be pulled on, and even some with snaps in the crotch like baby pants to make changes easier. Everything was quite expensive though. She thought she might do better to just buy some cheap t-shirts and shorts at the local discount store and modify them herself.

She had been going to work every day since the second day he was in the hospital. She wished she could take time off, but her job had said “no way” when she’d asked for a leave of absence, and she couldn’t afford to lose it right now. Still, she managed to take a day off for Jonathan’s release from the hospital.

Jessica rode with him in the back of his parent’s SUV on the way to the rehab center, supporting his head in her lap. She talked to him in a low voice about what to expect at the center. It was a nice place, and there was going to be a lot more intensive therapy. She doubted if he’d be left alone in his room much at all, except for the naps necessary for his body to grow new nerve and muscle tissue.

“There is a mat floor in the gym room. That’s where Stacy, your physical therapist, says you’ll start out. She says that we need to keep your arms and legs moving a lot, but that you also need to have a chance to re-develop your own balance and coordination. She’s hoping that you’ll be able to roll over within the first ten days. Won’t that be nice? Then you can help us out more during bath time!” she lowered her voice even more, “And just remember, the sooner you get well enough to be easier to care for, I’ll be able to give you private baths at home.” She winked and patted his crotch while she was pretending to straiten the shirt they had fought to pull over his head this morning. He smiled at her, and she almost melted. She couldn’t bend down far enough to kiss him with his head the way it was, but she kissed her fingers, and then put them on his lips. He tried to kiss back. He wasn’t able to do it quite right yet, but all the sucking on the bottle had given him enough control over his mouth to make a reasonable approximation. She couldn’t wait until they could do more private tutoring on that.

Jonathan knew that Jessica had put an enormous amount of effort in finding the “perfect” rehab center for him. He had to admit that she had done an amazing job. He marveled at the resources available in the center and the dedication of the staff. However, despite the fact that he was sure that every second was designed to maximize the speed of his recovery, he seemed to reach new levels humiliation while undergoing treatment at the facility.

Jessica had explained to him on the first day that no one here was trying to demean him in any way, but that this rehab center had a decidedly practical philosophy. She hugged him though, and explained that this was one of the reasons they were able to achieve such seemingly miraculous results in many of their patients. They used methods that worked, even if they were considered unorthodox.

Jessica had already told him about Stacy, his new physical therapist. Apparently Jessica had visited the center several times before choosing it. She had already sat down with the administrators and his primary therapists to discuss his condition and future therapeutic programs. Many of the patients this rehab center dealt with needed to re-grow universal coordination, though rarely anything quite as extensive as his own needs. They believed that the best way to achieve relearning such basic skills was to use and expand on methods used to originally achieve such coordination. They theorized that sense there were hundreds of years of research in infant, toddler, and child development and only a few clumsy decades in adult physical therapy, that perhaps adult therapists should use the lessons learned but child development experts and apply those to adult situations where appropriate. Amazingly, the primary reason this was not usually done was because some therapists found it difficult to apply such methods without belittling their patients. Staff members at this research center studied the methods extensively, but remained a proper respect for even the most senile of patients. They felt that if the therapy was properly explained, and the patient was treated with all due respect at all times, that the patient was not demeaned by any method of treatment.

Thus, Jonathan quickly learned that in this rehab center, a diaper was called a diaper, patients who could drink from bottles were not subjected to feeding tubes, and adult scaled developmental “toys” were not unusual. Many of it was initially humiliating, but he took comfort from the fact that he noticed other patients recovering more quickly than he would have expected. He knew his own progress was also going much better than any of the doctors at the hospital would have imagined possible, but it still felt incredibly slow to him.

The first shock came upon arrival at the center. Several orderlies met the car at the drop off entrance. Jessica and his mother got out to accompany Jonathan while his dad went to park the car. Jessica immediately embraced a woman with dark, short cropped hair who looked to be in her early fifties. Jonathan was shocked when the orderlies lifted him out of an SUV that there was not a gurney waiting.

Since his neck and back muscles were still too weak to hold him in an upright position, he could not be moved in a wheel chair, and had always been moved on rolling hospital beds when he had been taken for tests. At first he thought they meant to carry him to his room like this, and wanted to groan because it was quite uncomfortable. However, the dark haired woman with Jessica quickly unfolded something, and the orderlies settled him onto what felt like a suspended canvas chair that was reclined enough his neck settled back against it, but left him upright enough to see around. It was only as they were fastening straps over his shoulders and through his crotch to secure him to the contraption that he realized what it reminded him of. It was like a giant stroller!!! He felt the tears of shame welling in his eyes before he could stop them.

Jessica noticed immediately, and led the dark haired woman to him, and they both squatted down so they could look him easily in the eyes. She was a cheerful looking woman, a bit plump looking, with both care and stern steely strength shining from gray eyes.

“This is Erica. She is your primary care coordinator. At this rehab center, there is one primary care coordinator for every four patients, so that they can keep very careful track of your progress and coordinate with all your therapists. She’s sort of like a social worker, only much better. Every Tuesday night we’ll meet with her, you and me, and as many of your therapist team as can make it, to discuss the progress you’re making. I told you this place was the best, it really is, I promise,” Jessica said, with longing in her eyes, as if she was giving him a gift that she really, really wanted him to like. Then she continued, “Erica, this is Jonathan, the most wonderful man in the whole world,” and she stroked his cheek.

Erica quickly grasped his hand (he was proud to notice that it was not clenched tight) and shook it despite the limpness in his muscles, saying, “I’m really glad to meet you Jonathan. Jessica has told me so much about you, and you sound like a real marvel. We’ll have you back on your feet as soon as we can. I’m here to make you as comfortable as I can while ensuring you are getting better as fast as you can.” She paused, as if waiting for a reply, and Jonathan smiled at her. He wanted to say something of thanks, but of course that was impossible. Besides, he was still a little consumed with the discomfort of being in a stroller. Erica seemed to sense his hesitation and added, “You seem to have noticed the stroller. I know that it seems a bit strange, but Jessica says she explained our philosophies to you. I want you to think about it for a minute. Right now your muscles are still too untamed for anything except a very large and specialized wheel chair that is difficult to push, and right now you do not have the coordination to direct it. The other option is to keep you strapped flat to a bed and roll you around, but then you can’t see anything, and ceilings get very boring. We feel that strollers are a better option in situations like yours. It allows us to move you with ease, and without having to store bulky chairs that serve no extra purpose. This frees up space for more productive equipment. Think about it for a moment, and you can see why we use what we use. However, if you find this too difficult to cope with, then I made sure Jessica had arranged a back up facility to take you to. Do you think you can handle the way we do things here, or would you rather go somewhere else? You can blink once if you want to leave, or twice if you want to stay.”

Jonathan calmed himself and thought about it. He realized quickly that the stroller was probably only the beginning of many surprises, but he realized the sense it made. Besides, Jessica was standing there so nervous. He knew she only wanted the best for him, and since she was certain this was his best chance of a quick recovery, he did not want to give it up. After only a few seconds he blinked twice, and Erica nodded to the orderlies. One of them went ahead to activate the automatic doors, and the other started pushing him slowly into his new temporary home.

Jessica and Erica walked by his side as they moved through the center. They took him on a short basic tour. They showed him the gardens and outdoor activity centers that seemed to spread out for acres out a window. There was an aquatic centers with several types of pools for different therapies. He also saw two different gymnasiums for physical therapy. There was a cafeteria for patients developed enough to use it, and more different types of recreational rooms than he could remember. Finally they got to his room.

Jonathan was pleasantly surprised. Jessica quickly explained that she had “upgraded” him to a suite type room so that she could spend the nights with him. She had moved her belongings into a spare bedroom in his house, and since it was only a couple of miles away, she would go there before and after work to chance clothes and take care of her own needs. However, there was a small twin bed in the corner of his room where she could sleep every night. There was also a large private bathroom, with a large tub so that he could begin to take real baths as soon as he could sit up. The last room was an “activity” room. It was not very large, but had a soft rubbery mat on the floor, and several low stools. She explained that this was where he could practice things when he was not in an official therapy session. Jessica was rather forceful about her expectation that he would show her every new thing he had accomplished before bed every night. Jonathan pretended to grimace at that, and was pleasantly surprised that the expression came out just as he had wished.

TO BE CONTINUED................