Strange days indeed - a 24 x 7 experiment

[ozziebee]

Ive been getting a lot of pee releases when I feel bowel movements around there, seemingly as stool moves past the bladder it triggers a spasm and release. 

 

I can also just rest my hand/arm over my nappy, which elicites a similar response. I don’t know whether my bladder is full, and weight triggers a stress response, or the bladder being moved triggers a spasm and urge. 

 

Very weird either way. 

[oznl]

7 hours ago, ozziebee said:

Ive been getting a lot of pee releases when I feel bowel movements around there, seemingly as stool moves past the bladder it triggers a spasm and release.

Good lord, I thought that was how it worked for everybody! ?

[oznl]

This week I road-tested the “new” 7000ml Tykables “Cammies” in their fetching blue camouflage pattern.  Once again, I aimed for 24 hours and this time did so however I used TWO nappies to make it.  There was no way that overnight Cammie was going to survive the next day so I tagged-teamed two of them to cover 24 hours.  Interestingly, the 7000ml claim doesn’t appear anywhere on the packaging although the product is described as a 12 hour, overnight one.  Its dry weight of 243g is only slightly more than the 230g or so of the BetterDry and substantially less than the 264g heft of the lurid Rearz “Mermaid Tales”.  It is however heavier than the 227g dry weight of Barry suggesting that there are some compositional differences here.

I changed out of my weekend-day Abena/booster into one after a shower at around 5:30pm.  I instantly saw what @ozziebee was saying when she described them as a near-clone of the Rearz Elite hybrid (Barry).  Certainly out of the pack, that’s what they resembled.  They had similar dimensions, a similar (crunchy) exterior texture and an apparently-identical-but-it-turns-out-not-quite-as-robust hook/loop tape and landing zone system.  They felt a lot like Barry too although obviously visually quite different with the whole military camouflage thing happening.  God knows how much substance-infused marketing hallucinations spawned that idea but whatever.  Perhaps they are on to something.  I’d imagine that military combat presents loads of pant-filling moments.

The first thing I noticed is that they are noisy.  Walking around created a distinct “crunch, crunch” effect that made me feel a little bit like a packet of potato crisps (or chips, choose your English dialect).  It’s entirely possible that Barry does this too but Barry is a workday nappy and as such, has a plastic pant (PUL) as well as a compression pant over the top of him for muffling.  Being a weekend evening, the Cammie had just a compression pant which would remain in place before being replaced by a terry-lined plastic pant for bed.

It was an alcohol evening and the Cammie saw some combat action in the lounge chair I was in but I can’t remember anything specific.  I went to bed around 10:30pm modestly wet.

I woke at 3am.  I’d clearly peed whilst asleep.  The Cammie was by now soaked and annoyingly, so was the terry lining on my waterproof trainers.  A quick digital exploration (which echoed loudly throughout the bedroom as though I was midnight-feasting on a bag of potato chips/crisps/whatever) suggested that somehow, I’d peed over the top of the Cammie and that pee had flowed back toward the elastic linings of my trainers at my waist.  The room was warm (the summer humidity looks like persisting into April) and so I kicked off the covers, rearranged myself to drag the Cammie plastic back underneath my waist elastic (so that it would be held in place) and fell back asleep under the ceiling fan to dream about evaporative cooling.

I probably peed again a few times before dawn but I can’t really remember.  It gets VERY blurry these days after dark in my nappy department.

When I woke I was startled to find my plastic pant elastics and the bottom of my t-shirt to be very cool indeed.  I wasn’t wet as such but slightly damp and there had indeed been some evaporative cooling under the ceiling fan.  Mercifully, the sheets remained dry.

Arising first to make coffee, I realised that I was actually swaddled in a fair amount of wet terry towelling.  It was at this point I decided that there WOULD be a morning change.  I would not attempt to take THIS Cammie any further down the road with me.

Upon changing I discovered that in addition to leaking out the top of the nappy, I’d leaked a little at both tape sides and that one of the tapes had even let go during the night making that side of my trainers thoroughly wet.  I’ve NEVER had a tape fail on a Barry like that.  I also noticed the distinct aroma of pee.  It wasn’t overpowering but was a bit toddler-like.  Perhaps that’s an “AB” feature that the manufacturers were aiming for. 

I also found what “waddle cut” actually meant.  I’d filtered out this piece of marketing puffery when initially scanning the packet’s numerous claims but now suitably wet, the Cammie had a fair bit of puffery to it and I did indeed waddle slightly.  It seemed to swell more than the Barry but not as much as a BetterDry.  There was limited wicking though.  The seat of the nappy was dry.  It’s wet-weight of 1881g suggested only around 1600ml of pee but it was done: a VERY long way south of 7000ml and well under my usual “1/3 of rated capacity is actually usable” rule.

Not that great.  I rolled the dice again and deployed another Cammie for the front line.

With daytime use, I realised that the Cammie is actually a pretty comfortable thing to be wearing, especially as it gets wetter.  It just got softer and warmer but again, the “waddle” factor crept up as the day drew on.

Again, I fancied that I could catch faint “wet nappy” whiffs here and there as the day proceeded and the Cammie grew warmer and fatter around my loins.  These contrasted sharply with my preferred more manly olfactory profile of diesel and beer.

By evening time, although there was NO hint of leaking and the Cammie (in stark contrast to a similarly-soaked Abena) had defied gravity, gripping my hips and crotch firmly, I did NOT feel in any way tempted to push my luck by wearing it to bed.  Especially in view of the fact that as another “alcohol” night, it would be highly likely to see action whilst I was asleep and unaware to mitigate any failures should they occur.

I changed out of it.

All in all, it WAS remarkably similar to the Rearz Hybrid Elite (Barry) nappy albeit remarkably expensive.  I find it hard to accept that it really has a 7000ml capacity although I believe it does have a slightly greater cruise range than the plain old Barry.

Despite the less in-your-face décor of the Cammies, with only 10 nappies to a bag and priced identically to the 12-per-bag Rearz “Mermaid Tales”, the Mermaid has a unit cost 20% lower and demonstrably higher load carrying capacity: winner, winner, chicken dinner.

I’ll learn to live with obligatory pronoun guidance for the Mermaid nappy on those rare, dimly-lit-evening-free-of-any-adult-games-of-“twister” occasions where I need a 15 hour shift instead of 12 and can get away with wearing something the size of a koala bear on my arse.

[Little Sherri]

I'm curious, @oznl, as to what your spouse would make of the camouflage motif. Are all printed diapers verboten, or just juvenile themes? Of course, testing this out would be akin to testing if your oven mitts work, by putting your hand on the element. On a side-note, my normally thoroughly-jaded spouse, who almost never remarks on the prints on my nappies, called the Mermaid Tales "fancy". But she didn't even blink when presented with the visage of me in an ABU Little Kings, a cloth-backed tribute to late-model Pampers. 

I wasn't sure at first if the Little King was a serious diaper, or just a novelty, but cautious testing has suggested that they have pretty decent range to them, and are not prone to unpredictable failure modes. However, they exhibit exactly the trait you describe with your Cammies - they swell up fantastically in the front, while the back remains bone dry. Admittedly, my testing was mostly conducted while sitting in my office chair, so maybe, had I spent some time lying on my back, I'd have gotten a different result. But, when I consigned the thing to its grave, I felt like 60% of it had gone unused. I wonder if there is some mechanism, beyond assuming creative positions while I emit, that would allow for a more even distribution, and thus, a longer service life. Little Kings cost $6 CAD each right now, so they are never going to become an anchor garment in my system, but, the Scotsman in me is nevertheless irked by the inegalitarian moisture distribution within them. 

[Little Cub Pants]

I'm surprised this thread is still going!??☺️??♥️??️?️♥️?

[oznl]

5 hours ago, Little Sherri said:

I'm curious, @oznl, as to what your spouse would make of the camouflage motif. Are all printed diapers verboten, or just juvenile themes? Of course, testing this out would be akin to testing if your oven mitts work, by putting your hand on the element. On a side-note, my normally thoroughly-jaded spouse, who almost never remarks on the prints on my nappies, called the Mermaid Tales "fancy". But she didn't even blink when presented with the visage of me in an ABU Little Kings, a cloth-backed tribute to late-model Pampers.

It’s a good question but since she clearly does not wish to discuss any aspect of this, I can only speculate.

I’m moderately confident that this far on our journey together, my beloved understands (correctly) that my juvenile choice of undergarments has absolutely nothing to do with any inappropriate interest in juveniles.  She is however acutely concerned that others should find out and I suspect, she worries that those others may leap to incorrect conclusions on the matter.  Another aspect is that the image of me diapered challenges her idealised view of me.

To exploit a Monty Python parable, she wanted a lumberjack… 

Perhaps, plain, white, sober medical nappies can be rationalised away in her mind as mere physiological misfortune whereas pee-soaked Baa-baa lambs signal fundamental psychological flaws.

It’s an interesting question on the Cammies.  I suspect I *might* get away them unless she figured out they had disappearing soldiers as wetness indicators at which point she’ll be reaching for the DSM V.

5 hours ago, Little Sherri said:

I wasn't sure at first if the Little King was a serious diaper, or just a novelty, but cautious testing has suggested that they have pretty decent range to them, and are not prone to unpredictable failure modes. However, they exhibit exactly the trait you describe with your Cammies - they swell up fantastically in the front, while the back remains bone dry.

I’m not sure which field of engineering covers adult nappies but I do believe this to be a failure of engineering.  It's not really viable to write a manual for the things advising users to rotisserie their voiding position at timed intervals.

I dimly recall something called a “surge layer” in disposable nappies, the purpose of which is to disperse fluid entering the product over a wider area to facilitate its capture by the polymer crystals.

If  these products even HAVE a surge layer, I'd speculate it isn't working very well for some reason.

5 hours ago, BabySpiderBoy said:

I'm surprised this thread is still going!??☺️??♥️??️?️♥️?

You DO realise you just made it longer right?  ?

[Little Cub Pants]

5 minutes ago, oznl said:

It’s a good question but since she clearly does not wish to discuss any aspect of this, I can only speculate.

I’m moderately confident that this far on our journey together, my beloved understands (correctly) that my juvenile choice of undergarments has absolutely nothing to do with any inappropriate interest in juveniles.  She is however acutely concerned that others should find out and I suspect, she worries that those others may leap to incorrect conclusions on the matter.  Another aspect is that the image of me diapered challenges her idealised view of me.

To exploit a Monty Python parable, she wanted a lumberjack… 

Perhaps, plain, white, sober medical nappies can be rationalised away in her mind as mere physiological misfortune whereas pee-soaked Baa-baa lambs signal fundamental psychological flaws.

It’s an interesting question on the Cammies.  I suspect I *might* get away them unless she figured out they had disappearing soldiers as wetness indicators at which point she’ll be reaching for the DSM V.

I’m not sure which field of engineering covers adult nappies but I do believe this to be a failure of engineering.  It's not really viable to write a manual for the things advising users to rotisserie their voiding position at timed intervals.

I dimly recall something called a “surge layer” in disposable nappies, the purpose of which is to disperse fluid entering the product over a wider area to facilitate its capture by the polymer crystals.

If  these products even HAVE a surge layer, I'd speculate it isn't working very well for some reason.

You DO realise you just made it longer right?  ?

Yeah I know.? LOL!??

[oznl]

The three year mark for being permanently diapered rolled by this week.  You may recall that I went into full-time nappies in December 2018 making the whole “24/7” saga closer to 40 months old but there were gaps here and there. 

It’s only now that I can honestly claim three unbroken years.  Ever since that last, ceremony-free-wee in the Qantas Club bathroom at LAX airport in early April 2019 before taping on a trans-pacific BetterDry, I’ve been peeing my pants.

It’s time for a brief review (pun intended).  A lot has changed.  A lot hasn’t.  There were a lot of changes.  That’s the TLDR version so some of you can stop reading now.

Still here?  Ok.

Despite my partner’s deep and abiding antipathy to my taste in underwear, she’s still with me although sometimes, I wonder if this might mean nothing more than the absence of a more attractive alternative.  Whilst we’ve moved on from the open warfare that marked the early days, we have a ceasefire rather than a peace agreement.  I don’t think she’ll ever accept this. 

Whilst a certain amount of sunshine has been removed from our relationship, it’s hard to pin this exclusively on nappies (pun intended).  Tidal forces of the global pandemic and its spin-offs of redundancy, lock-downs, shortages, financial pressures, a conga-line of cancelled holidays and occasions, her menopause and other familial crisis have muddied the psychological waters.  The past two of the last three years have been complete rubbish for both of us.  She has loads of reasons to be grumpy.  My nappies are just another one of them.

The whole “sex” thing was pronounced dead in year 3.  It’s debatable whether this was caused by the nappies or our advancing age, or some combination.  My capacity has dwindled (along with my inclination) and a number of things down there are abnormal.  Whether this is a physiological function of permanent nappies or age, or even some strange psychological symptom is ineffable at this point.  She’s shown no interest in a long time and I don’t really care.  I’m more interested in the companionship.

I suspect this is one of the tougher realities of this scenario. 

So how do I feel about things today?

Well, after a few years living this way it seems utterly usual to me.  Whilst I know intellectually that I’m wearing nappies, operationally they don’t loom large in my head.  The “Oh WOW!  I’m in a NAPPY!” thing is gone.  The “Oh WOW!  I’m wetting my pants out in public and NOBODY KNOWS!” thing is gone too.  I wet my nappies semi-automatically a couple of times per hour, I suspect a bit like a toddler might.  Nappy changes are routine and time-based.  The skin in my “nappy zone” has become tough and leathery.  I have had minimal issues with rashes.

I don’t really notice being wet unless I leak (which still annoys me).   Underwear that’s a bit heavy warm and squishy seems perfectly normal to me and I can’t really remember what it’s like NOT to be in them.  I could find out easily enough but I don’t want to.

Despite my weird choice morphing into a mundane fact of life for me, like air and gravity I’d miss them a lot if they weren’t around.  My preference for nappies has not wavered one iota.  I thought it might last three weeks.  Still today, the thought of coming out of my nappies reignites the same low level anxieties that has seen me remain in them this long.   So I don’t. 

In terms of dependency.  During the day things are a bit rusty down there but I’m pretty sure I remain continent.  Sure, there’s a bit of episodic voiding, post void dripping, incomplete voiding and the inability to clench off a void but I still CHOOSE to void, mostly.  I can hold but urgency and drips become things very quickly if I do now.  For a bunch of stuff (such as a long car trip) it’s best that I’m in a nappy.  Peeing whenever and wherever is now so dialed in that I might forget NOT to anyway. 

There have been one or two occult wettings but I still suspect they were response to physiological consent I’d granted but forgotten doing so by the time the pee hit pants: a function of being highly normalised to living as though incontinent.   I do recognise however from my transition to bedwetting that it IS possible that I’m voiding unintentionally and not noticing.

Nights are quite different now.  Year 3 marked the “turning of the corner” with respect to bedwetting.  Whilst isolated “possible” bedwetting events started to appear after only several months, I’d remained in a pattern of infrequent and strictly speaking, unverified bedwetting for a VERY long time.

Early on in year 3 I learned that I if I go to bed without a nappy, I may still wet the bed although any serious attempt to text or examine my body’s newest trick seemed to scare it off into hiding for days or weeks.  Later in the year I suddenly realised that I was wetter than I thought I should be for more nights than not and then discovered that I could test myself for true bedwetting without it disappearing.  I can now choose to go to bed dry through timing my nappy changes and STILL wake up at 2am to discover myself to be wet.  It’s not every night but it’s probably more than half of them.  Alcohol before bed more or less guarantees sleep-wetting.  I have no choice but to wear nappies at night now, an outcome I remain slightly in awe of but curiously unbothered. 

This isn’t incontinence either.  It’s a learned behaviour.  The fact that I can defer peeing during the day if I need to makes it wildly unlikely that this ability simply disappears after dark.  It’s just that my brain has re-patterned things so as not to bother waking me if I’m sleeping deeply enough.  There’s also abundant evidence that bedwetting events are not driven by full bladders but rather by deeper sleep and it being two hours or more since I last peed.  It seems to be rather an automatic perpetuation of the “toddler mode” bladder I have during the day.

In any case, night nappies are compulsory now and this time last year they were not.

Where next?

There are storm clouds ahead.  Unemployment, inflation, health crisis from aging relatives, unavoidable family visits, unwanted exposure, all pose existential threat to my chosen lifestyle.  I’ll navigate those challenges when I reach them, somehow.  I am happier in nappies despite signs of dependency and some “big rocks” of life challenges that I’m yet to deal with diapered.

Three years in I’ve decided that “Making the leap” is the wrong metaphor for this.  It’s not a leap.  

It’s like walking off a beach into a warm sea fully clothed, passing the staring paddlers near shore before striking out and swimming toward the horizon.  Initially strange, even shocking, we push on ignoring bewildered onlookers.  We get into the rhythm of our new strange environment and just keep going.  At some point the voices calling from the shore behind, warning for us to stop and turn around become distant and faint as the strangeness and sensations of our experience become normal, blunting the fears and perhaps even blinding us to the dangers.

Before we know it, we’ve swum too far out to be able to turn around and make it back to that beach anyway.  Our choices are to keep swimming or drown.   My principle regret is that I must swim alone.

Onward to year 4…

[BabyJilly_S]

All I can say is good luck in year 4.

[oznl]

I tried another Cammie last night.  A dinner party with friends at my place meant that I needed to get my evening change done early, around 4:30pm or so.  I had cheese and nibbles to eat, beer to drink and eventually a BBQ to operate.  Man is strong, make fire, cook cow…

Thanks to an outdoor location, raucous laughter and too-loud Dandy Warhols and Hudu Gurus on my somewhat over-engineered audio system, the crunch-crunch-crunch noises emanating from my shorts were not noticeable by others and the evening was a success.

At around 11:30pm, I staggered into bed.  I didn’t seem to be that wet.  I couldn’t clearly remember how much I’d used my nappy but it was obvious that an overnight shift would pose no problems for it.  Thanks to the miracle of strong beer and red wine, I slept like a baby:  right through the night, weeing in my sleep (at least I didn’t cry).  I only woke up a little before 6am to discover that yet again, I had an empty bladder and a wetter nappy than the one I could remember.

I wasn’t THAT wet though.  As I padded down to the kitchen to organise morning coffee for the two of us, an exploratory rummage around suggested that I was only wet at the front of my nappy with my seat being basically dry.  A 7 litre super-nappy should be able to handle more than this. I decided that being Saturday, I’d skip on the morning change and see how long the Cammie would last.  Even catastrophic failure would be of limited impact given my black shorts and home location.

Peeling off my terry-lined waterproof pants (in-bed insurance policy) however revealed that both Cammie lower tapes had let go.  If I’d SERIOUSLY used that nappy, I’d have been washing my trainers.   I stuck them back on but they just let go again.  Maybe they didn’t like the taste.  Those tapes may LOOK like Rearz Elite Hybrid Incontrol Plus (Barry) tapes but they aren’t.  I’d seen the same tape failure on previous Cammie adventures.

Cue the masking tape…

Secured again against my person with the miracle of masking tape, the Cammies (as before) remained warm, comfortable and relatively non-saggy as the day wore on.  Also as before, by about 11am I could smell “wet nappy”.  It was me…  It wasn’t strong and it wasn’t bad but there was a distinct nursery school aroma about my person.  Alone in the house, I soldiered on at my keyboard.

At around 11:30am, around 18 hours since I’d first donned it, I arose from my seat at my desk to feel tell-tale cool spots at my thighs.  It had been a good fling, a kind of one night stand, but the relationship was over, it was morning and it was time for the Cammie to go.  It was fortunate that my beloved had gone to see if anything was for sale at our local supermarket (supply chain woes are still a thing there) and so a near-lunchtime nappy change raised no eyebrows.

Upon removal I found the product gross weight was 1542g suggesting a modest payload of around 1400ml (Cammies weigh in at around 240g).  Again, a tiny fraction of its claimed capacity.

My opinion on the Tykables Cammie is unchanged:  over-rated with poor wicking means that its 7000ml capacity is nothing more than a marketing department’s auto-erotic climax.  Comfortable enough, its capacity is tragically limited and on my form at least, it’s also prone to lower tape failure.

Next batter up: an “institutional” product such as the hapless inhabitants of aged care facilities or hospitals may have to endure.  The “Dailee slip premium maxi” because let’s face it, I’ve got a wet chair anyway…

[Little Sherri]

On 4/7/2022 at 8:36 AM, oznl said:

It’s like walking off a beach into a warm sea fully clothed, passing the staring paddlers near shore before striking out and swimming toward the horizon.  Initially strange, even shocking, we push on ignoring bewildered onlookers.  We get into the rhythm of our new strange environment and just keep going.  At some point the voices calling from the shore behind, warning for us to stop and turn around become distant and faint as the strangeness and sensations of our experience become normal, blunting the fears and perhaps even blinding us to the dangers.

Before we know it, we’ve swum too far out to be able to turn around and make it back to that beach anyway.  Our choices are to keep swimming or drown.   My principle regret is that I must swim alone.

I have not read a better description of this journey. I know exactly what you mean about doing this "alone", but I hope that you feel that the greater "we" here are with you in spirit. I certainly feel a lot less alone than I used to. Before discovering this site (or, for that matter, taking to the internet on this topic in any form), I thought I was alone on a desert island. Then one day, I walked over a distant hill, and beheld a bustling city laid out on the other side of it. 

On 4/9/2022 at 3:25 AM, oznl said:

“Dailee slip premium maxi”

I've never heard of this. Do tell. 

 

[oznl]

16 hours ago, Little Sherri said:

I've never heard of this. Do tell.

Ask, and ye shall receive!

The “Dailee Slip Maxi” (DSM) is NOT a product that I would immediately buy.  Is IS however a product and when an unopened pack of them in my size appeared before me in a pile of discarded stuff destined for landfill, it seemed perfectly reasonable that I should impose an additional waypoint on their journey to the centre of the earth by grabbing them and trying them out first.

Thusly, I am reviewing the DSM.

Apparently designed by some of the world’s most incentivised healthcare sector accountants, the DSM has been skilfully and thoughtfully engineered with unswerving loyalty towards its’ noble shining light-on-the-hill design imperative:  Be the lowest cost bidder on any institutional health facility tender.

The first of many “yellow flags” surrounding this nappy become apparent when extracting one from the packet of 28 in which they ship.  It’s impossibly thin.  Not impossibly thin in the sense that it contains space-aged polymers and miracle scientific ingredients that will render tsunamis of their wearer’s wee into an inert and harmless gel that smells vaguely of rainbow unicorns and strawberry cupcakes but rather thin in the sense that it is f#$%ing unlikely to work.

The second yellow flag is its weight.  As you can’t always judge books by their cover, the Rearz Incontrol Hybrid Elite (aka “Barry”) shows us that you cannot always judge a nappy’s absorbency by its thickness.  I’ve found a nappy’s weight however to be a reasonable proxy.  Absorbent stuff doesn’t weigh nothing.  A dry Barry weighs on average roughly 225g, a trusty BetterDry fractionally more at 230g.  The capacious-but-lurid Rearz “Mermaid Tales”, a whopping 264g.

A “Daily slip maxi”?  133 grams.

Buried on the website somewhere is a capacity claim of 3000ml, a similar capacity to my Molicares although a Molicare weighing at around 200g is half as much again heavier dry.  Silly Molicare…

This “maxi” by the way is their big one, described as “Adult diapers for inactive people with heavy to severe incontinence”.  I tick at least some of those boxes.  I’m an adult and I’m inactive.  Amazingly, according to the manufacturer’s website, ALL of their nappy range is described as being for “Adult diapers for inactive people with heavy to severe incontinence” even though most of that range purports to be even smaller and cheaper.  I guess they saved some money by not thinking up different words for their even-more-meagrely-padded products.

Carefully extracting one from the packet so as not to tear it (it appeared to be THIS fragile) I unfolded it carefully.  It looked like a paper band aid for a urethra.  There was a modest padded zone roughly in the centre of it and it even had leak guards.  Well sort of, they appeared to have been air-brushed on by pixies they were so low.

Gingerly, I put it on.  I taped it up.  Yes, it had four tapes but they are far from confidence-inspiring.

It felt like I was wearing no nappy at all, which was nearly the case as it transpired.

The next “yellow flag” was that as I was finishing taping it, I leaked a small amount of pee.  This happens these days.  Despite it being nothing more than a few drops, I glanced at myself in the bathroom mirror and immediately saw a small darkened patch at my penis.  Dabbing at it, I could imagine I felt moisture on the outside surface.  Great.  It’s porous as well as under-padded. 

I rummaged for some plastic pants to put over it.  I chose some dark blue Gary PUL waterproofs.  This was NOT a nappy that provided any visual gratification anyway.  Curiously, somebody in product marketing had decided that it might be amusing to decorate the product using a repeating motif of a concentric, circular cluster of droplets: a kind of visual wet “splat” mark.  Presumably splatter patterns are something familiar and reassuring to the users of the DSM.

A compression pant over the whole sorry lot, some shorts and I went about my Saturday afternoon feeling curiously unpadded in the downstairs department.  As per normal practice, wetting events occurred semi-automatically a few times per hour but with very small volumes.

It did actually hold up SLIGHTLY better than I expected.  The padding at the front swelled substantially and became noticeably squishy but wicking seemed poor to non-existent.  As near as I could tell, the paper-thin crotch area down between my legs and my bum remained dry.  As it was day and a weekend, I was mostly standing.  Relatively little sitting occurred.  It was reasonably comfortable though.

At around 6:30pm, I’d finished making dinner and it was time for a shower and a change.  Upon removing my nappy, I discovered that the inside of my plastic pant was quite wet.  If I had not of been wearing plastic pants, my outerwear would certainly have gotten damp.  It seemed that I’d simply overwhelmed the padding at the front of the product whilst the padding elsewhere had nothing to do.  Sometime ago, I had obliviously stopped wetting my nappy and switched to just wetting the inside of my plastic pants.  Used product weight was 1038g suggesting a “payload” of 900ml of pee although leaking was taking place.

The next “Dailee” was more of the same.  Evening though now, I was sitting in a chair in front of the TV but same mode of usage.

At around 9pm, I realised I was wetting.  That’s fine.  I’d “left the gate open” so to speak and so semi-automatic voids routinely occur.

I realised I had wet pockets.

In the seated position, pee had simply poured out either side of the slender padding at my crotch to run across the top of my thighs and eventually seep out through my plastic pant leggings.  In the Australian language (our perverted interpretation of English), to “piss in your pocket” means sycophancy for personal gain.  In Dailee-Slip language, it’s a manufacturer’s design specification…

I got out of the leather armchair leaving behind a glistening wet patch on the seat.  In the dim evening light with a vat of wine on board as well as Netflix, my beloved didn’t notice.  Refilling my glass for the last time for the evening, I rearranged my nappy as best as I could in the kitchen, poking things around inside it so I was definitely pointing DOWN before resuming my slightly-damp seat (I planned to wipe it down after she’d gone to bed).  At this point, the Dailee was not so much holding pee as merely inconveniencing it on its trip to the great outdoors.

At around 10:30pm she did go to bed.  I got up, wiped the chair and immediately slipped into something more comfortable: a Kins pull-on cotton diaper layered with a Kins pull-on terry diaper under encased Kins plastic pants tossing my shorts into the washer.  I knew it was highly likely I’d wet the bed after alcohol and was going to be washing in the morning anyway so time for cloth.

The second discarded Dailee weighed in at 1077g: yielding catastrophic failure at just over 900ml of its alleged 3000ml capacity.

I guess it has its place in the world.  I imagine in the final weeks before meeting one’s maker, laying on a trolley staring vacantly at fluorescent lighting, past the point of bothering about toilets, these would to some extent, keep the bedding dry.  If one was prepared to use, say 4 – 5 of them per day, they may even suffice provided that all urination occurred in a precise orientation in space.

They weren’t exactly confidence-inspiring though.

Two down out of the packet, 26 to go.  I think I might use them as “emergency” nappies for light duty shifts of less than 2 hours, or maybe fit one to our ageing cat.  I’m only running in second position in the race to incontinence under our roof it seems.

[Puppyz]

Sounds like you found a pack of boosters that you hardly even have to take to with the Stanley knife.

[oznl]

A vaguely-disturbing dream occurred last night that fortunately, proved merely a dream.

I’d gone to bed around 11pm.  It was an alcohol night so I’d peed in my sleep.  I have no recollection of doing that but that’s how that rolls.   The evidence was all around my midriff (but well-contained) when I woke during the early hours.

No leaks + empty bladder + wet nappy = perfectly comfortable = go back to sleep.

The disturbing bit was the dream which I suspect took place after I’d fallen back asleep.

I was putting myself to bed.  It was a hospital bed (it’s a dream remember, it could just have easily been a supine refrigerator or a TARDIS in the bedroom).   It would have been near-normal but for proudly sporting a beige plastic bed pan in the relevant position on the sheet-covered mattress, like a kind of Olympic cauldron (the covers of the bed were pulled back) but for a bed.  If I was to have a bedpan, I’d like it to be hygienically gleaming, sanitised for my protection.  I was therefore dismayed to observe that this bed pan was in a completely revolting condition and I was none too keen to be near it.  Although technically empty (the most optimistic interpretation of its state), there was abundant evidence of prior battles with hideously damp and incriminatingly brown stains on its seat. 

I was queasy just at the thought of having to lay upon it but gingerly I did, trying not to think about what might be coming OFF the bedpan and on to my bum.

The reason of course it was necessary for me to HAVE that bedpan with me in bed was that I needed to poop.  Gingerly lowering myself onto it, I drew up the bedcovers and tried not to think about its condition.  Strangely, once lying in bed on it, I couldn’t feel it at all but I knew it was there so we were “good to go”.   I relaxed and waited for nature to take its course.  I waited some more, and then some more again.  Nothing seemed to be coming out so I gave a little push.  This seemed to move things a little and so I relaxed again, intending to let the event self-complete on autopilot.

I drifted in and out of sleep (in my dream) but despite being relaxed, the poop train remained in the metaphorical station.  It was like some kind of low-level metaphysical “tug-o-war” was going on in my brain’s basement:

“Open the pod bay door Hal!”

“I’m sorry Dave, I can’t do that…”

Slowly I realised that this venture was going to take more active participation than I could be bothered with in my sleep befuddled state.  I fell asleep properly and the battle faded from view.

Sometime later I woke for real.  I was still wet obviously but I also realised that an unusually early desire to poop was present, and that my pelvic floor was curiously relaxed.  It wasn’t so urgent that I really needed to do anything about it but it was definitely there.

Then I remembered my dream.  OMFG!!!  What had happened?  A quick grope (from the outside of my nappy, just in case) mercifully confirmed that wet was ALL I was down there.

The thing was, that dream was strongly reminiscent of the “pee dreams” that preceded my reversion to bedwetting: the early ones that involved endless “I need to pee, it’s ok to pee, why aren’t I peeing?” cycles.

At some point down the track, those pee dreams became less metaphorical and more precipitous (that’s as in precipitation).  The disturbing parallel here was I was asleep in bed, dreaming that I was in a position of permission to “let it all out” and had (quite possibly) relaxed all controls to allow this to occur.  It was mere happenstance that the punchline to this physiological joke was not delivered.

Waking up to discover I’m in a fully loaded nappy is NOT in my life plan.  I cannot see how my beloved could (or should) be asked to tolerate THAT outside of strict medical necessity.

The degree of urgency was sufficiently moderate for me to be comfortable that the matter could safely be disregarded for the remaining hour or two of repose and dealt with in the conventional way at my morning change.

My thoughts around this topic are complex.  Whilst on some academic level, I realise that “full nappies” reflect probably a more realistic regression scenario, I remain firmly resolved that the effort is greater than the reward.  I am disinclined to incur the costs of practicality, sociability and marriage to indulge nappies to that degree.  Happily, this sacrifice does NOT seem to substantially denude from the positive experience.  It’s a compromise I’m happy to make and it’s a choice that I am ABLE to make.

I’m aware however, that others have pointed out that there is an inevitable associated “de-conditioning” of the #2 control gear with those of us who have allowed their #1 control system to lie idle for long enough.  This does not (I am told) necessarily involve catastrophic failure but I HAVE noticed increased urgency.  There’s been the odd occasion here and there where I’ve allowed matters to proceed at the intersection of solitude, convenience and proximity to my changing time but even then, I expect that I could have chosen to control things had I really needed to.

Still something to keep an eye on though.  Having even ONE of those events slide under the radar (and under me) is NOT something I wish to be explaining to my beloved.

[Puppyz]

I wouldn't worry too much about the #2 dreams. I have so many of these types of dreams where I'll be in one of many predicaments/situations with a loaded pair of pants. I'll be trying to go in a toilet somewhere to empty my pants and suddenly the door will be 2 foot shorter at the bottom exposing me to everyone or a similar scenario. 

I've yet to wake with a loaded nappy ? 

If I had the option of just not dreaming that'd be real good thanks lol  . The closest I've to come to that is when I had a small operation and was put under a general. One minute the training nurse is jamming a needle into my hand and failing badly to the point the other nurse took over, then bam, I'm waking on a bed and being shuffled to a chair in the day surgery room to be returned to outside life. 

Maybe instead of a fear of the potty monster like a toddler, you've simply gained a fear of the commode you would find in an old folks home lol 

[oznl]

16 hours ago, Puppyz said:

I wouldn't worry too much about the #2 dreams. I have so many of these types of dreams where I'll be in one of many predicaments/situations with a loaded pair of pants. I'll be trying to go in a toilet somewhere to empty my pants and suddenly the door will be 2 foot shorter at the bottom exposing me to everyone or a similar scenario.

Yes, I've had THOSE dream too but they are different.

As an aside,there must be some kind of consistent psychological causality there because THOSE type of dreams I've had are stunningly close to what you've described.  In them I've found myself dealing with anatomically-implausible quantities of poop where it shouldn't ought to be (nappy, pants, bed, whatever).  It seems that I'm trying to cope with a steadily escalating magnitude of tragedy, encountering more and more poop-contaminated material whilst trying to clean/recover the situation.  Throughout all of this,  all semblances of privacy and confidentiality I try to rely on to deal with the matter quietly are collapsing or disappearing around me.  Doors open (or disappear), people appear where they shouldn't, making for a fairly sh1t experience, literally AND metaphorically.

I wonder what those dreams mean?  I'm not a regular nappy-pooper anyway.

THIS dream was a little different that I remember dreaming not BEING in a dirty nappy but rather being aware that poop was imminent and that my plan was just to let it all happen because it didn't matter.   That plot line was disturbingly similar to dreams that heralded the return of the nocturnal pee-fairy.

16 hours ago, Puppyz said:

I've yet to wake with a loaded nappy ?

Fortunately, neither have I.  Long may this continue ?

 

[oznl]

Quelle horreur!  This week I found myself “smelly” at the end of my working day.

Some might blame society but I blame my PUL waterproof pants.  It can’t be my fault, my beloved would have told me if it was.

I’ve been plagued with very minor leaks towards the end of the day from my Elite Hybrid Incontrol Whatever-else-it-is-called (Barry).  It seems that the elastics of my waterproof PUL pants would ride up and at some point, interfere with the edge of soggy Barry at my inner crotch,  allowing tiny amounts of pee to wick out and reach my outerwear.  It was far from catastrophic failure, more about a tiny damp patch deep where there shouldn’t be one.

In something of an experiment, I hauled out a gi-normous pair of “Eenee” PUL waterproof bloomers.  I’d bought them ages ago from a mainstream medical supplier to see if they might be a lower cost alternative to my trusty “Gary” pants.  They weren’t.  Although almost comically voluminous (with some minor modifications, they’d make a superb hot air balloon), they had thinner PUL and thin, unpromising, unenclosed elastics that transmitted pee quicker than Facebook transmits fake news.

The size of them was such however that I thought the leggings might extend far enough below the edge of my nappy to give me a better chance of keeping my inner crotch dry, or possibly even my knees.

Fail.  Annoyingly, somehow they managed to (in egregious defiance to the tug of gravity), work their way UP my thighs anyway and start poking into pee-soaked Barry even deeper across the working day as there was more spare material.

I was STILL dealing with leaks almost daily (albeit very minor ones).

As was my habit, I’d give my PUL pants a quick, cursory rinse at my evening change and spread them out on my shelf in the walk-in-robe to dry overnight so that my beloved would have something readily at hand to be displeased about.

Typically in this fashion, I can get a working week out of my PUL waterproofs before slinging them in the washer along with used cloth nappies at the weekend.

By Wednesday however, the formerly whiter-than-white but tragically-thin elastics on the (white) PUL pants leggings had developed a distinctly tan hue.  As Thursday is my last day of the working week, I gave them an extra good rinse and hoped for the best.

I was driving a work vehicle out somewhere around lunchtime when I realised that I was catching the odd pee-whiff.  I thought I was imagining it. I checked my shorts, they were dry.

When I got back, I sat at my desk to update records relating to what I’d done in the field and I caught it again, stronger this time.  It was the unmistakable smell of old pee.  My rule of thumb here is that thanks to olfactory habituation (nose blindness), things were likely worse than I thought.  Optimism is great but as the cliché goes, pessimists are rarely disappointed.

Exploratory probing showed that yet again, small leakage had occurred, wetting the inner crotch of my compression pants but my outerwear and the chair were safe.

I glanced around.  Thanks to COVID and a very, very small office, I was well distanced from everybody else and as a menial tech, I’m all but invisible anyway but I still felt bad.

I carefully maintained distances and slunk off home as soon as I could.

Upon my changing, I found that my PUL waterproofs stank awfully.  Some kind of bacterial action had established itself in those constantly-pee-wet elastics and the small amount of wet contagion that had migrated to my compression pants also smelled bad.  It was worse than the (relatively inoffensive) fresh wet nappy smell.  This was stale piss.

Folk imagine that incontinent people inevitably smell like that but my experience (and in my current semi-retirement work role, I see a LOT of incontinent people) it ain’t necessarily so.  To my educated nose, a well-maintained patient-in-nappies is (for the 97% of the time they aren’t messy at least), undetectable.  At least by us.  I reckon their pet dogs have an inkling. 

Generally speaking in my rapidly-expanding experience, it’s poorly maintained or unmaintained incontinence that causes the problem.  Sometimes this is down to nothing more than the patient being in denial about their unfortunate position and refusing “precautions”.  Other times regrettably, it’s poor care.  In my case it was poor care but I’ve only myself to blame.

I’ll switch back to the Gary pants next week and try again.

[Stroller]

54 minutes ago, oznl said:

Upon my changing, I found that my PUL waterproofs stank awfully.  Some kind of bacterial action had established itself in those constantly-pee-wet elastics and the small amount of wet contagion that had migrated to my compression pants also smelled bad.  It was worse than the (relatively inoffensive) fresh wet nappy smell.  This was stale piss.

I wear plastic pants with unenclosed elastic these days.  They are easier to keep clean, which sounds unlikely until you think about it a bit more.  The trouble with elastic that's 'fully' enclosed is that wee will still get in, and then it's very hard to get it clean again.  After 3 or 4 days the pants will start to pong.  Elastic that's just sewn on to the outside of the plastic gets wet OK, but a daily rinse through gets the elastic clean, so no smell builds up as the bacteria never really get going.  The plastic itself rinses clean easily enough.

1 hour ago, oznl said:

Folk imagine that incontinent people inevitably smell like that but my experience (and in my current semi-retirement work role, I see a LOT of incontinent people) it ain’t necessarily so.  To my educated nose, a well-maintained patient-in-nappies is (for the 97% of the time they aren’t messy at least), undetectable.  At least by us.  I reckon their pet dogs have an inkling.

I'm sure that's right.  I hope it is anyway - my sense of smell has been knocked sideways in recent years, and so has Mummy's, but nobody else has complained yet...

My 'golden' rule of thumb is that as long as everything's kept clean, you're OK for two days.  Any residual wee anywhere after that time turns to a nasty niff.

[FretaBWet]

I use Gary 7 mil plastic pants with enclosed elastics for my cloth night diapers and have never had a problem. Have you tried soaking them in some fresh water with a little baking soda? This can be done very discretely if you use something like a large Tupperware container with a lid that will seal tight. Put enough water to submerge the pants, add some baking soda, put the lid on right and just shake gently to mix thoroughly. Just set it aside until the next opportunity to retrieve them and dump the water, rinse and let dry. Since the pee will enter the elastics through the holes that the thread go through the water and baking soda will do the same to neutralize the smell. Diaper covers will last a long time with proper care.

Hugs,

Freta

[oznl]

15 hours ago, Stroller said:

I wear plastic pants with unenclosed elastic these days.  They are easier to keep clean, which sounds unlikely until you think about it a bit more.  The trouble with elastic that's 'fully' enclosed is that wee will still get in, and then it's very hard to get it clean again.  After 3 or 4 days the pants will start to pong.  Elastic that's just sewn on to the outside of the plastic gets wet OK, but a daily rinse through gets the elastic clean, so no smell builds up as the bacteria never really get going.  The plastic itself rinses clean easily enough.

Funnily enough, my Gary PUL pants (that have enclosed elastic) haven't been the problem.  It was the "eenee" PUL pants without enclosed elastic that gave me the drama.  Because these are worn over disposables, I'm wondering if the problem is that the unenclosed elastics have no opportunity to repel moisture when they ride up versus the enclosed.

2 hours ago, FretaBWet said:

I use Gary 7 mil plastic pants with enclosed elastics for my cloth night diapers and have never had a problem. Have you tried soaking them in some fresh water with a little baking soda? This can be done very discretely if you use something like a large Tupperware container with a lid that will seal tight. Put enough water to submerge the pants, add some baking soda, put the lid on right and just shake gently to mix thoroughly. Just set it aside until the next opportunity to retrieve them and dump the water, rinse and let dry. Since the pee will enter the elastics through the holes that the thread go through the water and baking soda will do the same to neutralize the smell. Diaper covers will last a long time with proper care.

Hugs,

Freta

I use Gary brand but PUL during the day.  I live in a warm climate and the breathability helps.  My Gary 7 mil enclosed elastics (I also have these) I reserve for cloth night nappies where they do a great job.  I'm in the habit of bunging them into the machine with the nappies themselves but your solution sounds like it might be gentler on them.  I should try that.

[FretaBWet]

My Gary pants have never been in the washer, only hand washed. I only have 3 pair but I'm very careful so they stay in good condition. I dry them on the shower head in the bathroom away from the sunlight and when I put them away I use FIFO (first in first out) by putting away the clean ones on the bottom of the stack. I know your situation is somewhat different from mine but you should be able to set up a stealth system for soaking the eenee pants without invoking the wrath of Kahn.

Hugs,

Freta

[oznl]

A multi-day bedwetting “drought” resolved itself in the usual fashion last night.  Possibly poking the bear once too often, I’d gone to bed dry on Friday only to wake finding myself still dry at 3am.  Slightly annoyed, I went to bed dry again on Saturday only to be woken at 4am (in a still-dry nappy) by of all things, my bladder.  The old truism of emerging diaper-dependency being non-linear in progression is very, very true.

A better analogy however might be waves reaching a beach.  The water comes and goes in cycles with waves.   It’s only by observing across a longer time base that we notice that the tide is inexorably rising and wet feet (or nappies) are becoming the new normal.

Thusly I greeted the Monday morning dawn in a drenched pair of trainer pants over my BetterDry whilst laying in a (mercifully-small) cool wet spot on the bed having no idea when or how that had happened.  I’d flooded my nappy.

I did NOT need the extra washing.  I’m still trying to deal with last week’s.  The weather this long weekend in Brisbane has been appalling: cool (well, cool by OUR standards, around 23 – 25C), grey and near-constant light rainfall.  A load of cloth nappies and last week’s terry/waterproof trainers and plastic pants remains in the downstairs spare bedroom threatening to go mildew.  Not all of these things are tumble-dryer friendly and I suspect my beloved thinks that I might spread ABDL germs through the house by tumble-drying “infrastructure” anyway.  Such is her air of vague disapproval when I do so.

The BetterDry, whilst apparently completely pee-coloured on the inside, didn’t SEEM that heavy.  I weight it: 1678g meaning that it was only carrying around 1.5 litres of pee.  They can do better than that.  I’m assuming that I let rip on my side or something.  Another possibility is that the pack has been open too long and the humid weather has got to them.  I guess I could weigh them dry and compare their current weight to my expected baseline but I digress…

An odd thing happened though shortly after waking.  I wet my nappy again.

Ok, that’s not THAT odd, not for me.  What was odd was that it kind of happened automatically with no warning and little-to-no sensation.

I’d been awake for quite a few minutes, laying on my back, cautiously probing around my (damp) bum with fingers to discover the magnitude of any bedding tragedy (blessedly minor).  It was too soon to get up (a public holiday Monday, it was around 7am).  As I was laying there, suddenly I felt a faint, creeping, trickling warmth appear at the front of my nappy to be followed by a small, hot rivulet running down toward one hip.  There was absolutely zero “I’m peeing” signal from my bladder, I could just feel myself slowly getting even wetter in the crotch department.  I then realised that my pelvic floor was in the fully-relaxed position already.  I could not recall ANY decision to pee but it certainly wasn’t causing me a problem.  It wasn’t much of a stream and it dissipated quickly into a vague dripping.   It appeared to be uncommanded and there was no tell-tale bladder spasm.  I guess that might be how I can wet in my sleep without waking myself.  For a pants-wetting, it was a VERY low key event.

This has happened once or twice before but it remains quite weird when it does.

[BabyJilly_S]

Still getting woken up myself, such a pain. Very dependent upon when i go to bed though, any brief nap in the evening screws me overnight and puts everything out of sync. 

Don't think I have experienced the no sensation peeing yet, though occasionally shortly after going there is a second release which seems to give much less sensation. Wouldn't mind more of those...

 

[Little Sherri]

On 4/25/2022 at 8:49 AM, BabyJilly_S said:

though occasionally shortly after going there is a second release which seems to give much less sensation.

This is interesting to me. I was travelling over the weekend on a guy's trip to the notably-better weather you get when you go 1000 km's Southwest from where I spend most of my time. It was a nice weekend, all told, but, I had to share a hotel room with a buddy, because we got a screaming deal on our accommodations, due to one of my buddies being in the employ of a large hotel chain. So, I couldn't just say "I'd like to pay more and have my own room, please", because I would have forced someone else to do the same. So, uncharacteristically (for me), I occasionally used the restroom for #1, an occasion I normally reserve for nature's requirement #2. I was wearing dreadful Depends man-themed pull-ups, with a size 7 kid's diaper stuffed inside, because kids wear diapers at a professional level, so products aimed at them are incongruently more capable than products aimed at adults who discharge 6 X the volume per day. I had just finished going #1 like a big boy, standing and everything, because we were drinking local craft IPA's and I would have been burning through even a good diaper, let alone an awful one. I tucked the equipment back inside my diaper-in-a-pull-up, started washing my hands... and then felt warmth appearing in the nether real estate aft of my wedding tackle. I'd spontaneously wet myself, just a small amount, but it was a bit disconcerting, because presumably, having just done it deliberately, I didn't really need to go that badly. Bladder spasm? But I felt nothing. 

[oznl]

17 hours ago, Little Sherri said:

This is interesting to me. I was travelling over the weekend on a guy's trip to the notably-better weather you get when you go 1000 km's Southwest from where I spend most of my time. It was a nice weekend, all told, but, I had to share a hotel room with a buddy, because we got a screaming deal on our accommodations, due to one of my buddies being in the employ of a large hotel chain. So, I couldn't just say "I'd like to pay more and have my own room, please", because I would have forced someone else to do the same. So, uncharacteristically (for me), I occasionally used the restroom for #1, an occasion I normally reserve for nature's requirement #2. I was wearing dreadful Depends man-themed pull-ups, with a size 7 kid's diaper stuffed inside, because kids wear diapers at a professional level, so products aimed at them are incongruently more capable than products aimed at adults who discharge 6 X the volume per day. I had just finished going #1 like a big boy, standing and everything, because we were drinking local craft IPA's and I would have been burning through even a good diaper, let alone an awful one. I tucked the equipment back inside my diaper-in-a-pull-up, started washing my hands... and then felt warmth appearing in the nether real estate aft of my wedding tackle. I'd spontaneously wet myself, just a small amount, but it was a bit disconcerting, because presumably, having just done it deliberately, I didn't really need to go that badly. Bladder spasm? But I felt nothing. 

Mmm, yes, vaguely familiar.  The more I think about this, the more I suspect we are in fact having a odd few daytime "accidents" that we are failing to notice because we're always diapered.  It's only  *sometimes* thing I think (at least at this point).