Childhood Memories and Experiences

[340lbbenchpressbaby]

Hi, everyone. I had to wear diapers until I was around 8 years old for medical reasons (though I should have worn them a lot longer), and also spent a ton of time in hospitals. I was also blessed/cursed with a very vivid memory starting at an early age. Lately, I've been working through a lot of those memories (even got copies of my childhood medical records to fill in the gaps), so I thought I'd share some embarrassing experiences. I've posted a few of these elsewhere, in case you recognize any of them. Please feel free to ask any questions and/or share experiences of your own!

Not sure exactly where to start, there are so many, but I guess I'll start with when the doctors ordered my parents to start giving me suppositories on a daily basis. My parents weren't very good about explaining what they were doing and why they were doing it, so basically, one morning when I was about five, they simply dragged me into the bathroom, took off my clothes, and made me lie down. I remember wearing nothing but a diaper--my last line of defense--and shaking because I didn't understand what was happening. Then, they took the diaper off. For the next few minutes (though it felt like hours) they tried to force a greased up suppository into me, but I clenched up and wouldn't let it in. They kept pushing, kind of whispering and trying to reassure me. Eventually, I gave up, relaxed, and felt something VERY cold sliding about a mile up my rear end. (Side note: what's weird is that according to medical records, they were actually giving me TWO suppositories at first.)

I remember lying naked on the cold bathroom floor for a while, feeling increasingly nauseous, still trying to figure out what was going on, then they put me on the toilet. If I couldn't go, they'd put my diaper back on, then have me walk around for a bit. Sometimes, I'd end up going in the diaper. The whole thing felt extremely invasive; there was also a lot of nausea coming from the suppositories (and adrenaline/panic, probably).

Like I said, this started when I was around five. For a while, they did it every morning, i.e. the routine was that I'd hide, they'd drag me out, strip me down, and force it in, whether I was crying or not. Eventually, I resigned myself to it. After a while, they switched from two suppositories to one, then started doing it every other morning instead of every morning. Originally, I thought this went on for a month or two. I was shocked when I looked at my medical records and discovered that I was actually under doctors' orders to receive two suppositories every morning from 5 to 5 and 1/2, then they switched me to one every other morning until I was around 7. After that, they switched me to pills and these drinks that tasted like wet chalk.

^

When I was little, my mom and I spent a lot of time at my aunt's house. My aunt had a little girl who was about four years younger, so I guess she would have been around 2 when I was 6. I was still totally incontinent at that point and my mom was still changing me like a baby, and I remember feeling really embarrassed about it. My cousin usually ran around in just a diaper, but I was always fully dressed, I think because I wanted to keep my diaper hidden. One time, I remember an especially messy diaper change, and my mom apologizing to my aunt (who was outside the open bathroom door) as she changed me. Another time, I remember telling her that I liked how the baby powder felt and asking her to sprinkle on more.

A few times, playing with my cousin, I'd look down her diaper out of curiosity. If she was messy, I'd freak out and go ask/beg for someone to change her. One time, I remember another relative visiting, and she slid her hand down the back of my cousin's diaper and kind of fondled her butt a little bit. It was innocent, I'm sure, but it freaked me out more than anything because I associated the touch with the fact that she was wearing a diaper, and worried that people would start reaching into my diaper next... and what if I had an accident? I should also add that my mom was far from tactile, so by then, I was already deeply ashamed of still needing/wearing diapers.

*

I was changed in public all the time (of course), and this was another area where my parents weren't all that great about communication. Specifically, they never seemed to understand how shy/embarrassed I was about being changed, and would just take me into the bathroom in front of everybody. I remember my mom taking me into public restrooms and having me lie down on the cold tile floor so she could change me. Because of how I was lying there, I could sometimes see under the partition, whether that was into the next stall or whatever woman was waiting outside to use the stall, looking back down at me. This was back before changing tables were common, btw. My mom always changed me lying down, never standing up for some reason.

Occasionally, she'd have me change myself, which basically consisted of taking the spare diaper out of her purse, flourishing it like a flag (or so it seemed to me), and handing it to me. I'd hide it under my shirt and head for the restroom, my face the color of a tomato. Once I was in the stall, I tried to be as quiet as possible, but a few times, other kids in the bathroom heard the tapes ripping and called out, laughing, asking if I was wearing a diaper. I'd basically hide in the bathroom, not answering, until they left.

Another thing that bothered me was that at family functions, my mom would leave her purse gaping open, and anybody who walked by could see the diapers she'd brought for me.

*

Here's one I posted elsewhere (though I'll take it out of greentext). I was six years old (I think), and getting increasingly embarrassed about still being in diapers. There was a big family gathering at an aunt's house, tons of relatives there (including cousins), and I was terrified that I'd be caught. So I was kind of shyly avoiding everyone, even afraid they'd hear my diaper crinkle (which had happened before). All of a sudden, I had a five alarm bladder spasm.

Hard to explain these but they've been with me all my life, especially when I was a kid. Basically, I'll be perfectly fine, then all of a sudden, my bladder decides to empty itself as fast and forcefully as possible. Clenching up and trying to slow it down has almost no effect. Well, that day, I had one of those spasms and felt my diaper go from dry to warm swamp in about three seconds. I panicked because sometimes, when that happened, I'd pee so hard and fast that the diaper would leak. This time was no exception. I could feel a warm trickle going down my leg.

Mortified, I went up to my mom and whispered, "I need to be changed."

She hopped up, grabbed her purse (spare diaper inside), took my hand, and headed for the bathroom. But I pulled free because the house was crowded and I was sure that if my cousins saw us going into the bathroom together, they'd know I wore diapers. So instead, I whispered/pleaded for her to change me outside. She laughed but went along with it. We went outside, my diaper starting to leak even more with every step, and she took me around the corner of the house. I looked around to make sure it was clear, then lied down on the grass.

I remember shaking as she got to work, terrified that I'd be discovered. Meanwhile, my mom didn't seem to be in much of a hurry. She took off my shoes, then my pants, then peeled open the diaper (again, she never changed me standing up for some reason). I felt that gust of cold air between my legs as soon as she opened the diaper, then the contrasting warmth as she wiped me with a comparatively dry corner of the diaper. About halfway through the process, my aunt sauntered around the corner.

She smiled down at me, then her and my mom started chatting. My mom wiped me a little more, taking her time. I squirmed, wanting her to hurry. Then, I heard the front door slam. I heard a bunch of my cousins laughing and knew they were heading this way.

Well, my aunt must have seen my terrified look, because she jumped up and went to stop them. I overheard her telling them to go back inside and "close the door nicely," which gave Mom just enough time to get my dry diaper on. I hopped up, red-faced, and pulled my pants up as quickly as possible. Mom folded up the wet diaper and hid it behind her back. When my cousins joined us a few seconds later, they asked why I'd taken my shoes off. I was nearly in tears and couldn't think of an excuse. I think my aunt saved me again, saying something about how good it felt to feel the grass between your toes.

[340lbbenchpressbaby]

I thought I'd share a few hospital memories next.

I'm not sure how old I was for this one (I'm guessing around 6) but I was supposed to have one of many surgeries to correct some birth defects. I was sitting in an exam room with my parents, before the surgery, when a nurse came in and said they had to weigh me. She added that I had to be naked, then left to get the scale. Right away, I was crazy-nervous, because as much as I hated people seeing me in diapers, nudity was even more taboo in our house. Plus, the way my bladder worked, I'd sometimes have those gigantic spasms that resulted in flooding my diaper, but the rest of the time, urine just kind of dribbled out more or less constantly (in fact, doctors made similar notes in my medical files). So long story short, I really didn't want to be naked. I remember shyly asking if I could at least leave my diaper on. When the nurse came back with the scale, my parents asked, and the nurse said no. So they took off my diaper and stood me on the scale... and of course, I started piddling right away. I remember turning and seeing the disgusted look on the nurse's face.

*

When I was in the hospital, I was usually wearing a hospital gown and a diaper, but sometimes (for whatever reason), just a diaper. Also, for whatever reason, they made me wear a catheter. I'd wake up, feel pain in my dick, and see the tube running out. Scared the crap out of me. What made it a lot worse, though, was that they'd leave my diaper on over the catheter (for my bowels, I guess), which pressed on the diaper and made it a lot more uncomfortable. I also have some rather painful memories of catheters being pulled out.

*

Here's something else that happened that's supremely fucked up. My parents were against circumcision (so am I), but when I was almost seven, the doctor convinced them to have me circumcised anyway, saying that in my case, in would help cut down on bladder infections (hint: it didn't). My parents agreed... only they didn't warn me or explain at all what was about to happen. So I went in, expecting the normal pokes and prods. Instead, they knocked me out, and when I woke up, I felt searing agony in my dick. I don't remember if I had a catheter that time, but I remember timidly looking down my diaper and seeing a bunch of stitches in the head of my penis. It hurt like crazy and I had no idea what had happened. Embarrassingly, I didn't even know I'd been circumcised, or even what circumcision was. in my child-brain, I just thought something like, "Pee comes out of the penis, I can't control my pee, so they must have operated on my penis to try and fix it." I remember feeling deeply ashamed and disappointed later, when I was still wetting uncontrollably, like obviously the surgery hadn't worked. Side note: it was two or three years before I saw a documentary on circumcision and realized that's what had happened to me.

*

Another hospital memory, maybe six months after the circumcision. According to the medical reports, I was almost eight, and my parents basically brought me in because they were sick of me being in diapers and wanted to see if the doctors could do anything about it. One of the doctors suggested fitting me with a Freedom Catheter.

Well, as soon as i heard the C-word, I freaked out--not just because of how painful catheters were, but also because my dick was still agonizingly tender after the circumcision, and I was freaked out at the thought of anybody getting anywhere close to it. But my parents insisted, so they took off my clothes, then brought in what looked like a plastic baggie with a hose. They explained that this was a different kind of catheter and didn't actually get inserted. Still, I was terrified. They took off my diaper and basically tried to stuff my dick into the hose. I hated how it felt and because my parents weren't exactly stellar at encouraging me to have a positive attitude about my body, the whole thing about being naked and touched like that basically felt like I was being abused/tortured by a whole room full of people, most of them strangers (I know that wasn't true, of course, but my kid-brain didn't know what was going on). Eventually, they got the Freedom Catheter on, put the diaper back on over it, and had me walk around the hospital for a while.

I hated every second of it, so the doctors had the bright of idea of suggesting my parents check me into their bedwetting clinic for a few days so that I could "get used to it." My parents were actually going to go along with it, once they'd checked with their insurance company, but I managed to talk them out of it. Still, the handwriting was on the wall as far as diapers were concerned. They let me wear them about a year longer, but made me change them myself, then switched me to this laughably inadequate pads and plastic pants, thus consigning me to many, many wet/embarrassing afternoons at school.

 

Your aunt sounds like a lovely person.

She was, actually. Overall, my mom was honestly pretty horrible when it came to diapers, but many of my aunts were great. Most of them were very body-positive hippies and would let their kids play naked all the time. It always freaked me out because of how different my parents were, though.

[username]

I was in a orthopaedic hospital when I was 5 and the only memory I have is sitting in a private room while my mother was talking to another women in the room, in the bed was a severely mentally disabled person and he had a large pile of blue adult nappies on his bedside table. I remember being fascinated with them and I ask my mother if I could have one which the women was happy for me to have one. I can't remember wearing it but I do remember tossing it under the bed next to me. To this day I love blue medical looking nappies. I think the nappies he had were early Molicares and now Molicares are my everyday nappy.

[340lbbenchpressbaby]

 

I was in a orthopaedic hospital when I was 5 and the only memory I have is sitting in a private room while my mother was talking to another women in the room, in the bed was a severely mentally disabled person and he had a large pile of blue adult nappies on his bedside table. I remember being fascinated with them and I ask my mother if I could have one which the women was happy for me to have one. I can't remember wearing it but I do remember tossing it under the bed next to me. To this day I love blue medical looking nappies. I think the nappies he had were early Molicares and now Molicares are my everyday nappy.

Ha, nice that they were good sports about it!

 

Did you ever become dry?

Do you mean if my diapers were ever really dry when I was a kid? Honestly, not really. Like I said, a couple doctors mentioned in reports that I was basically dribbling all the time, like a leaky faucet. That was still going on when I was 8 (in addition to the big bladder spasms and nighttime wetting), though it did slooooowly get better over the years. Once I finally got on medication, that helped a lot. After being on the medication for about fifteen years, I think it basically retrained my body, so I don't really need it anymore. Well, for the most part, that is. Every once in a while, I'll go through periods of a few days where my bladder is a bit spastic for no apparent reason, then it goes back to "normal". But yeah, as a kid, I was basically in a soggy diaper more or less constantly. Sometimes, I hated it. Other times, it was no normal that I hardly even noticed.

[rusty pins]

 

I'm not sure how old I was for this one (I'm guessing around 6) but I was supposed to have one of many surgeries to correct some birth defects. I was sitting in an exam room with my parents, before the surgery, when a nurse came in and said they had to weigh me. She added that I had to be naked, then left to get the scale. Right away, I was crazy-nervous, because as much as I hated people seeing me in diapers, nudity was even more taboo in our house. Plus, the way my bladder worked, I'd sometimes have those gigantic spasms that resulted in flooding my diaper, but the rest of the time, urine just kind of dribbled out more or less constantly (in fact, doctors made similar notes in my medical files). So long story short, I really didn't want to be naked. I remember shyly asking if I could at least leave my diaper on. When the nurse came back with the scale, my parents asked, and the nurse said no. So they took off my diaper and stood me on the scale... and of course, I started piddling right away. I remember turning and seeing the disgusted look on the nurse's face.

 

Ha!  I love it, not because of your embarrassment but because of the nurses stupidity and the fact that she or someone had to clean the scale and floor!  You tried to tell her (or your parents did) and she had all the warning in the world.  Why the hell did she think you were wearing diapers if you didn't have a need for them?  Looking disgusted afterwards was the tell tale!  Had it been me and I was older (teens or older), I would have looked her right in the face and said, "Your fault!  That's what you get when someone tries to tell you something and you disregard it!"

[Bettypooh]

As a child I had very poor bladder control, what they now call 'neurogenic bladder' or 'mixed incontinence'. This was in the 60's when not much was known about incontinence compared to now.  Dad was in the military so I got poked and prodded by Doctors at every base we moved to, which was many since Dad was a drunk who got transferred a lot. Nobody could find anything physically wrong so I was finally sent to the Psychiatrists when I was about 9. I didn't quite understand what was going on but after meeting the Doctors and talking with them awhile they told me I'd have to wait in a room while Dad was away at a meeting. The Doctors and me went in and there was a table on the left with girls toys then further down another table with boy's toys. They told me to go ahead and play with any of the toys I wanted to and they'd come to get me when Dad was done. I asked "Any of the toys?" and they said yes- any of them, and then they left. I'd noticed that the wall above the tables was lined with mirrors and my older brother had already explained what one-way mirrors were and how that if you looked at them correctly you could see into the room behind them a little, so I knew I was being watched but I didn't know why or by who. I walked along and looked at the toys then went to the girls table to play with the pretty dolls and the dollhouse. In moments I saw a flash of light through the mirrors at the hallway end then the door to my playroom flew open. The Doctors seemed scared or worried and told me I couldn't play with those toys- I could only play with the boys toys. I reminded them of what they'd said but they said they'd meant I could only play with the boy's toys on the other table. I was heartbroken because the first chance I'd ever had to play with the toys I really wanted to was taken away from me- my sisters wouldn't let me play with them and their toys were off-limits. I began crying and told them they'd lied to me then they left. I walked down to the 'boys' table but nothing there interested me at the moment so I just sat in a chair crying, looking wistfully at the dollhouse I couldn't play with. In a few minutes the Doctors came back and said Dad's meeting was over and I could go now. I was still crying as I took one last look at the dollhouse, the biggest best and prettiest I'd ever seen, somehow knowing I'd never get that chance again.

Looking back as an adult it all became clear. I was quite intelligent but very immature for my age, so back then I had no Idea of what it all meant. Dad and everyone else never believed me when I said I couldn't help my pantswetting and that I always tried with all my might to stay dry but it just didn't work. They were looking for something wrong with my head when my problem was in my body. And they didn't understand Transgender back then so it must have been a shock to them to see me wanting to play with the dolls. We went back to those Doctors later on but I was never allowed into the playroom again, and I never trusted them because they'd lied to me so I told them what they wanted to hear when they asked me questions instead of what I really felt inside. I never quite understood why I felt like a girl inside until my 30's when I finally got online. I do remember them asking if I wanted to wear diapers (yes) and why (to keep my pants dry and let me become like the other kids my own age). I somehow knew there was more to it than that, but again it was never understandable till I got online and found other DL's like me. The world is much better for kids with incontinence and Gender issues now, and I'm happy for them that they won't have to go through the He!! which my own childhood was. Maybe they wont find their lives destroyed like mine was- all kids certainly deserve better chances than I had. I've got my life together now but to what use I don't know- I'm nearly 60 and though I'm well-traveled and experienced in much you'd hardly believe is true, my own life has passed me by. I can only imagine how much different things would have been for me had I been allowed the diapers I honestly needed and the chance to express my real gender instead of having to hide it just to survive.

Childhood memories? You can keep them- mine aren't worth having and you wouldn't want them to be yours anyway.

Bettypooh

 

[username]

I went to Play Therapy when I was 11 in 1997. I was in a long term foster home at that time. I used to steal Attends nappies from my special school and hind the used one around the house. 

[340lbbenchpressbaby]

 

Ha!  I love it, not because of your embarrassment but because of the nurses stupidity and the fact that she or someone had to clean the scale and floor!  You tried to tell her (or your parents did) and she had all the warning in the world.  Why the hell did she think you were wearing diapers if you didn't have a need for them?  Looking disgusted afterwards was the tell tale!  Had it been me and I was older (teens or older), I would have looked her right in the face and said, "Your fault!  That's what you get when someone tries to tell you something and you disregard it!"

Ha, it is pretty funny, on retrospect. Here's another story, in a similar vein. I was in the hospital for some other kind of test, don't remember what, around the same age. The nurses made my parents leave the room (don't know why) and had me lie down on a table while they stuck an IV in. Only they didn't warn me or explain what was about to happen... so I panicked and accidentally kicked one of the nurses in the face!

 

As a child I had very poor bladder control, what they now call 'neurogenic bladder' or 'mixed incontinence'. This was in the 60's when not much was known about incontinence compared to now.  Dad was in the military so I got poked and prodded by Doctors at every base we moved to, which was many since Dad was a drunk who got transferred a lot. Nobody could find anything physically wrong so I was finally sent to the Psychiatrists when I was about 9. I didn't quite understand what was going on but after meeting the Doctors and talking with them awhile they told me I'd have to wait in a room while Dad was away at a meeting. The Doctors and me went in and there was a table on the left with girls toys then further down another table with boy's toys. They told me to go ahead and play with any of the toys I wanted to and they'd come to get me when Dad was done. I asked "Any of the toys?" and they said yes- any of them, and then they left. I'd noticed that the wall above the tables was lined with mirrors and my older brother had already explained what one-way mirrors were and how that if you looked at them correctly you could see into the room behind them a little, so I knew I was being watched but I didn't know why or by who. I walked along and looked at the toys then went to the girls table to play with the pretty dolls and the dollhouse. In moments I saw a flash of light through the mirrors at the hallway end then the door to my playroom flew open. The Doctors seemed scared or worried and told me I couldn't play with those toys- I could only play with the boys toys. I reminded them of what they'd said but they said they'd meant I could only play with the boy's toys on the other table. I was heartbroken because the first chance I'd ever had to play with the toys I really wanted to was taken away from me- my sisters wouldn't let me play with them and their toys were off-limits. I began crying and told them they'd lied to me then they left. I walked down to the 'boys' table but nothing there interested me at the moment so I just sat in a chair crying, looking wistfully at the dollhouse I couldn't play with. In a few minutes the Doctors came back and said Dad's meeting was over and I could go now. I was still crying as I took one last look at the dollhouse, the biggest best and prettiest I'd ever seen, somehow knowing I'd never get that chance again.

Looking back as an adult it all became clear. I was quite intelligent but very immature for my age, so back then I had no Idea of what it all meant. Dad and everyone else never believed me when I said I couldn't help my pantswetting and that I always tried with all my might to stay dry but it just didn't work. They were looking for something wrong with my head when my problem was in my body. And they didn't understand Transgender back then so it must have been a shock to them to see me wanting to play with the dolls. We went back to those Doctors later on but I was never allowed into the playroom again, and I never trusted them because they'd lied to me so I told them what they wanted to hear when they asked me questions instead of what I really felt inside. I never quite understood why I felt like a girl inside until my 30's when I finally got online. I do remember them asking if I wanted to wear diapers (yes) and why (to keep my pants dry and let me become like the other kids my own age). I somehow knew there was more to it than that, but again it was never understandable till I got online and found other DL's like me. The world is much better for kids with incontinence and Gender issues now, and I'm happy for them that they won't have to go through the He!! which my own childhood was. Maybe they wont find their lives destroyed like mine was- all kids certainly deserve better chances than I had. I've got my life together now but to what use I don't know- I'm nearly 60 and though I'm well-traveled and experienced in much you'd hardly believe is true, my own life has passed me by. I can only imagine how much different things would have been for me had I been allowed the diapers I honestly needed and the chance to express my real gender instead of having to hide it just to survive.

Childhood memories? You can keep them- mine aren't worth having and you wouldn't want them to be yours anyway.

Bettypooh

 

Sorry you had to go through that! Amazing how some people can want to help (or think they're helping, at least) but end up making things worse. That was definitely true in my case, too. My parents and the doctors kept trying to force me out of diapers because it made them uncomfortable, but the result was years and years of wet/messy pants, embarrassment, etc., which I largely kept from my family because I knew they didn't want to hear it, anyway.

 

I went to Play Therapy when I was 11 in 1997. I was in a long term foster home at that time. I used to steal Attends nappies from my special school and hind the used one around the house. 

Yup, I probably stole enough diapers over the years to fully stock an entire diaper aisle. I always tried to dispose of them secretly but looking back, I'm sure my parents knew. They never talked to me about it, though, I think because they didn't want or know how to deal with it (also, I know for a fact that they didn't really understand how bad my bladder problem actually was).

[LittleAmytheil]

 

Ha, it is pretty funny, on retrospect. Here's another story, in a similar vein. I was in the hospital for some other kind of test, don't remember what, around the same age. The nurses made my parents leave the room (don't know why) and had me lie down on a table while they stuck an IV in. Only they didn't warn me or explain what was about to happen... so I panicked and accidentally kicked one of the nurses in the face!

Similar story, though unrelated to diapers.  I punched an Anesthesiologist when they tried to put me under for surgery!  Apparently I shouldn't be given laughing gas, because I start to flail.

[WetDad]

I warned the doctors that I was allergic to opiates, as they make me noxious. The anesthesiologist came into my room and asked me how I was doing before the exam (radiology) and I simply puked all over him. The dumbass had given me opiates in spite of my warning, so I felt no sympathy for him. Just me undying desire to remove everything from my insides.

[rjudosoft]

 

*

Here's something else that happened that's supremely fucked up. My parents were against circumcision (so am I), but when I was almost seven, the doctor convinced them to have me circumcised anyway, saying that in my case, in would help cut down on bladder infections (hint: it didn't). My parents agreed... only they didn't warn me or explain at all what was about to happen. So I went in, expecting the normal pokes and prods. Instead, they knocked me out, and when I woke up, I felt searing agony in my dick. I don't remember if I had a catheter that time, but I remember timidly looking down my diaper and seeing a bunch of stitches in the head of my penis. It hurt like crazy and I had no idea what had happened. Embarrassingly, I didn't even know I'd been circumcised, or even what circumcision was. in my child-brain, I just thought something like, "Pee comes out of the penis, I can't control my pee, so they must have operated on my penis to try and fix it." I remember feeling deeply ashamed and disappointed later, when I was still wetting uncontrollably, like obviously the surgery hadn't worked. Side note: it was two or three years before I saw a documentary on circumcision and realized that's what had happened to me.

*

 

In England circumcision is not routine so I was also not circumcised as a baby, however when I was 13 my forskin retracted and never went back. This caused the end of my penis to swell and I had to have an emergency circumcision. The worst bit was the embarrasment of having to have it done. After the operation when I was back on the ward I wet the bed but was too embarrased to call the nurses over to tell them, I also overheard them talking about me and that I had not passwd water since the opp ( used the bottle by the bed later in the night). In the morning when it was time to get up the nurses were understanding and changed the bed before my mum came to pick me up. It was bad enough knowing what was happening (even though everything was rushed and I had no time to prepare), it must have been much worse not knowing what was happening.

[340lbbenchpressbaby]

 

In England circumcision is not routine so I was also not circumcised as a baby, however when I was 13 my forskin retracted and never went back. This caused the end of my penis to swell and I had to have an emergency circumcision. The worst bit was the embarrasment of having to have it done. After the operation when I was back on the ward I wet the bed but was too embarrased to call the nurses over to tell them, I also overheard them talking about me and that I had not passwd water since the opp ( used the bottle by the bed later in the night). In the morning when it was time to get up the nurses were understanding and changed the bed before my mum came to pick me up. It was bad enough knowing what was happening (even though everything was rushed and I had no time to prepare), it must have been much worse not knowing what was happening.

Sorry you had to experience that! Sounds embarrassing and painful. Yeah, in my case, the physical pain--while intense--probably wasn't as bad as the confusion. I'm pretty sure I woke up after the circumcision and in addition to stitches in my dick, they'd also left a catheter in, all of which was being painfully rubbed/compressed by a diaper. How nobody thought to explain any of this is beyond me. What's also weird is that I have extremely detailed, vivid memories of a lot of my childhood/hospital experiences, including ones that happened a lot earlier, but these are foggy (I guess because of how freaked out I was). I remember bits and pieces of the aftermath, though, which involved the embarrassment of walking around in a diaper without pants (i.e. pants made the diaper too tight and hurt like crazy), and my mom having to apply this super-cold cream to my penis. Only she was nervous/scared to touch me, I guess, so she basically just tugged open my diaper and squirted a bunch down the front, and kind of rubbed it in through the diaper. Ha, no wonder I'm so fucked up, I guess. 

 

I warned the doctors that I was allergic to opiates, as they make me noxious. The anesthesiologist came into my room and asked me how I was doing before the exam (radiology) and I simply puked all over him. The dumbass had given me opiates in spite of my warning, so I felt no sympathy for him. Just me undying desire to remove everything from my insides.

Ha, he got what he deserved. I'm guessing he changed his approach after that, though.