Strange days indeed - a 24 x 7 experiment

[BabyJilly_S]

Saw the start of the 24h, gotta love the parade opening lap, but didn't catch much of the race, did watch the British GT 3 hour from Silverstone on the GTWorld channel, was fabby.

 

 

[oznl]

Most of us go to extraordinary lengths to keep our nappy usage private from the “vanilla” world.  For me, that extends to over-sized jeans, overhanging shirts and shape-wear to assist with visual stealth.  These are augmented by plastic pants to control almost-inevitable leaks and dark colour pants for when they don’t.   Whilst wet nappies occur as and when the need arises, I refrain (mostly) from using my nappies for “that” so I can enter a people-filled room in a used nappy without clearing it.

The list of mitigations and controls goes on and on…

We do this partly to avoid giving offense but partly to maintain some semblance of dignity.  It’s hard for me to see how we could have been inflicted with a more embarrassing recreational pursuit (although line-dancing would have to be a close contender).

I’ve been doing this for well over three years, two of which include office environments and close-quarters engagement with colleagues.  I imagine that I’ve been mostly successful.  Despite an understandable (and perhaps wise) degree of paranoia from those of our ilk, I haven’t caught anybody gazing at my curiously-featureless crotch or slightly-oversized bum.  Back when I had staff, I was (indirectly) all-too-aware of the faintly pejorative nicknames they had for me behind my back but I knew these were derived from my habit of using clear-thinking-driven to demolish spurious objections to working and fixation of measurable outcomes, not my padded underwear.

There is one chink in this camouflage armour and it nearly got me again this week.

As a demographic, we’re not often seen using toilets.  Well, at all really…

The tell-tale for this stark pointer to our unusual habits was a series of longer-than-usual work trips.  (As an aside, I don’t mind longer work trips in my current role.  In my previous hideous gig-economy “contractor” role, all travel was unpaid and to be accomplished in my own vehicle.  Despite the laughably small salary, I now have a “real” job.  I get paid for time spent travelling and I get to use a company car to do it).  Thusly, I found myself in our office car park at stupid-o’clock in the morning with the keys to an anonymous white sedan and a female colleague of similar vintage and stature with at least a four hour round trip ahead of us.

“Hang on, I’m off to use the little girl’s room” she said as I got in and started to pair my phone with the car for sat-nav.

And off we went.

After about 90 minutes, she was looking less than comfortable.  I put this down to the flower vase of coffee she’d drunk before departure.  We found a service centre off the freeway and she was off to spend a penny.

90 minutes later, about half an hour away from the office, we found a McDonalds so that she might spend a penny and then a few more pennies buying more coffee so that she could spend more pennies later.

We got back to the office and she bolted for the little girls room, leaving me to check the vehicle back in and unload.

Two days later we did the same trip again: same cadence.

About 15 minutes away from the office, having just climbed back into the passenger seat after yet another pee-stop at a McDonalds she looked at me accusingly from the passenger seat and more-or-less demanded:

“How come YOU never have to go to the toilet??”

Awkward.

The fact of the matter of course was that my bladder was actually WAY more dysfunctional than hers.  I HAD “been to the toilet” MANY times on our trip.  I have no idea how many times I actually NEEDED to go because it never gets that far but I’m very certain that had I not left the controls set to “automatic”, there would have been many, many stops.   It was simply that the rather large nappy (Rearz Hybrid Elite aka “Barry”) and well-fitting waterproof and compression pants I was wearing under my jeans rendered this a warm, comfortable, and by now, slightly squishy secret.

 Still, this was probably not the answer she was looking for.

“Just another of my mysterious super-powers” I replied enigmatically.

Fortunately, the conversational patter turned toward the egregious affect her blood pressure medication was having upon her bladder (a diuretic allegedly the agent behind her high frequency stop-cycle) and the other manifold petty nuisances of advancing age whereupon the point of conversational peril receded.  But still, her question was more poignant than even she realised.  There are dubiously-clean bathrooms in that office but I’ve never used them.  I don’t think I’ve even seen inside them.   From 6am until 6pm, I’m completely self-contained and portable with respect to toileting and my assumption that this may go unnoticed has not actual basis in fact.

I was reminded of a similar close-call in my prior corporate life where another female colleague (they must be more observant) was marvelling at my capacity to get through a 9 hour trans-oceanic flight without ever once leaving my seat (the BetterDry I was sitting in saw some serious action though).

I may have to consider tactical feaux-bathroom-breaks here.

[oznl]

The only news of note this week is that I seem to have somehow “cured” myself of bedwetting, again…  I’m aware that this usually doesn’t last and tonight is a "wine" night so we'll see.

Three consecutive nights last week however, I went to bed in a dry nappy only to be woken with a somewhat-full bladder and still-dry nappy five or so hours later.  This is in stark contrast to previous weeks where I passed my bedwetting exam every night that I took it (going to bed dry, waking up wet).  I’m not sure what happened the other nights this week because I was running a “two nappy day” cadence and thus went to bed a bit wet anyway.

It seems that in pronouncing to the world that I was now a semi-permanent bedwetter, I have tormented a god and must be punished.

To me, this oscillation between bedwetting and NOT bedwetting of itself, seems to be yet another one of the interminable plateaus that has described the overwhelming part of this journey: long periods of nothingness punctuated by change.  It’s just that THIS long period of nothingness is one whereby I will alternate between periods of frequent and regular bedwetting and not bedwetting at all from week to week.

A part of me wonders if by over-examining the phenomenon, I have somehow sent it back into hiding.  If so, the “therapy” would be presumably to chill out, stop being bothered by it and let events unfold as they will.  This is something that’s easier to say than to do.

I’ve been somewhat surprised to find within myself, a significant degree of frustration at my “failure” to achieve what 99.999% of the human population would consider to be a disaster.

Fishing in the murky pools of my psyche, as near as I can tell, I think I find this “neither fish nor fowl” indeterminacy to be an unsatisfying state of affairs. 

It’s not as though I can just ditch the night nappies if I wanted to because I MIGHT (and, over the course of more than a week or so, more likely WILL) pee whilst asleep which, if performed unprotected, will herald catastrophic domestic fall out.

So, if I’m thusly operationally constrained to wearing night nappies anyway, could I please just drift into permanent nightly bedwetting so I can be done with it and have some more sleep? 

Being forced to wake up in order to wet the waiting night nappy that I have no choice but to wear anyway is one kind of failure framed within another.  Perhaps that’s why I’d like to “get it done” and move on to continuous bedwetting thus closing one of the failure vectors.

[BabyJilly_S]

You speaketh much truth

That resonates mightily with me also

[Newbee]

I am medically incontinent and last week  I woke three times to find I had a dry nappy so don’t stress it does happen. I am sure you will wake up in a soaked nappy again soon.

[WBxx]

8 hours ago, oznl said:

Three consecutive nights last week however, I went to bed in a dry nappy only to be woken with a somewhat-full bladder and still-dry nappy five or so hours later.

Having experienced consecutive dry nights I have sympathy for what you’re going through.  It’s hard to know from here.  But personally, I’d have to be totally dehydrated to go five hours without emptying my bladder.  Perhaps an extra glass of water before bed would get you back on track.  Good luck

[oznl]

Update:

Friday again afforded the opportunity to go to bed in a dry nappy: a Babykins pull-up cotton with a Babykins pull-up terry layered beneath it (kind of like underpants for a nappy).

A suitable quantity of red wine had been on-boarded and I fell into bed at around 11pm.

At 2am I woke up and probed the interior front of my nappy.  Dry again.  Unbelievable!  My bladder wasn’t sending me any messages and I was quite sleepy so I didn’t try to pee but rather fell back asleep promptly.

I woke again some time later.  Still dry!  For some reason I really thought I had woken wet this time but I couldn’t tell you what it was.  I turned my head toward the clock on the bedside table to observe that it was 2:33am.  As I did so, I realised that I’d just started wetting myself.  I had NOT elected to do that and there was absolutely zero sensation from my bladder at all, just a warm trickling that started in the relevant area and spread slowly.  Another finger check confirmed the diagnosis.  I was now definitely wet.

It was absolutely uncommanded.  It just happened.  It was like a bedwetting event that I happened to be awake for.  I’m going to call it a “semi-bedwetting event”.

I let it finish and fell back asleep.  It’s happened before but it’s still very strange.  I suppose this is something like what people who are urinary incontinent experience: the first they realise is that things are getting warm and wet in the downstairs department.

Unsurprisingly I was still wet the next morning.  It was hard to tell if I’d been again although I was empty-bladdered upon waking.  My nappy was only damp at the front suggesting that somehow, I was dehydrated.  I’m thinking the red wine worked its wonder with my evening Abena seeing most of the action leaving me somewhat empty-tanked for the night shift. 

[Little Sherri]

I realize I've missed a lot on this thread. I wish I could go back and comment in between the posts - you have been prolific. And entertaining, as usual. I've been travelling heavily and still renovating the kitchen, and dealing with a DOA personal laptop, so my interactions here have been confined to tapping things out on a tablet, short replies to this and that, and updates to my own thread squeezed into a few minutes here and there. I'd been saving your thread for when I had some time to read it. 

First, it was interesting to read about your meeting with a fellow diapernaut. I had one of my own, very short, with a couple of them, at the Rearz warehouse sale a couple of weeks back, where they hosted a bit of a "church social" for an unsanctioned religion, around people picking up their orders, with snacks and staff mingling. It was all rather well done. There were some people there in costumes, dressed as littles, and people in their 20's wearing outfits modelled after Manga cartoons, but with pacifiers and puffy diapers under their skirts (unless there is diaper manga, which, now that I've said it aloud, has to be true - the Japanese are uber-polite but their kink counterculture runs to multi-phallused space monsters and even the vanilla private school animated soap operas my kids watch can drift into mild sub/dom erotica on occasion, so yes, they must have diaper manga, maybe these were actual characters from diaper manga). 

The people I chatted with were both males of the species, one middle-aged with kids, one in his 20's, both were very, very normal other than the fact that we all had diapers on under our shorts, and were there picking up cases of diapers. It was, as you said, reassuring. They owned cars. They had jobs. 

As to people noticing that you're not spending a penny, I have already started faking it on occasion, because I've found myself sitting around a friend's bar, or around mind, and after a while, people start "breaking the seal", and then getting up semi-regularly, while I am as immobile as a plinth. One guy might even wear diapers, who knows - he is the fastest pee-er I have ever seen, sometimes coming back in 30 seconds. I think sometimes that he's going just because everyone else is going. For myself, there was one occasion that I documented, I think last summer, where I was sitting at a table in a buddy's garage with some other buddies, drinking beer we made into the wee hours, and my diaper failed me at some point, and he and I ended up being the last ones to leave, and before getting up off my stool, I "accidentally" dumped beer on myself, to try and disguise the damp patches on my shorts. I was painfully aware that were I to have stood up with two crescents on my thighs, he might have then noted that I did not once go out to pee, whereas everyone else did a few times on average. 

Finally, my bedwetting situation looks like yours, but much less frequent. I still wake up dry, a lot, or get woken up by a need to permission a release, but every once in a while, I wake up soaked with no recollection of having agreed to it. It's frustrating. I'd love to sleep through the night and pee as necessary. Alcohol helps, but adding alcohol to my bedtime routine on a nightly basis might produce side-effects that bleed over into other aspects of my life. 

Anyway, I killed half a morning reading your posts. So, thank you!

Oh, and I had a dream about you. Not that one where either of us comes floating in through the bedroom window. Rather, I was supposed to meet with you for a video chat on my phone, but as soon as I called you and you answered, I had to hang up because one of my kids walked in or something, and then I called you back, and you answered again, but the call dropped, and then I tried calling you back, and you didn't answer, and I thought, "Crap, well now this guy thinks I'm a jerk." 

[oznl]

7 hours ago, Little Sherri said:

There were some people there in costumes, dressed as littles, and people in their 20's wearing outfits modelled after Manga cartoons, but with pacifiers and puffy diapers under their skirts (unless there is diaper manga, which, now that I've said it aloud, has to be true - the Japanese are uber-polite but their kink counterculture runs to multi-phallused space monsters and even the vanilla private school animated soap operas my kids watch can drift into mild sub/dom erotica on occasion, so yes, they must have diaper manga, maybe these were actual characters from diaper manga). 
 

I’ve been to Japan a few times for work (obviously prior work).  I’ve always been intrigued by the stark dichotomy between that buttoned-up impeccable polite formality and the bizarre hyper-counter-culture that lurks beneath it like molten magma below rock.  Is there some kind of causality beneath this juxtaposition?  Did one cause the other and if so, which way around was it?

7 hours ago, Little Sherri said:

Oh, and I had a dream about you. Not that one where either of us comes floating in through the bedroom window. Rather, I was supposed to meet with you for a video chat on my phone, but as soon as I called you and you answered, I had to hang up because one of my kids walked in or something, and then I called you back, and you answered again, but the call dropped, and then I tried calling you back, and you didn't answer

I use Signal a fair bit.  The call reliability you describe is more documentary than dream I fear…

[oznl]

The weeks are flying by in a blur.  I only work a four day week these days but even so, it seems that a work week ends every 10 minutes.  It was summer just the other day and next week is (for us at least), the winter solstice.

Despite the sprint towards senility and death, things are actually pretty flat and grey here…  Apart from an endless cadence of nappy changes, it seems like NOTHING good is, by strict policy, allowed to happen these days.  I’ve actually stopped buying newspapers.  It turns out you can get Sudoku puzzles elsewhere, free from adjacent headlines of awfulness above paragraphs of doom.

As an aside, I propose that ONE or more of the following “good” things should happen in the world, preferably by next Thursday:

• Putin changes his mind or at least, gives the world a true gift for our times by enjoying a massive myocardial infarction.
• We all wake up to discover that the whole COVID thing was a bad dream and in fact, nothing awful really happened
• China announces that it’s going to stop persecuting people (or entire countries) and go back to concentrate on culture, electronic consumable durables and awesome food
• Selected, relevant folk finally realise that arming angst-ridden, hormone-fuelled teenagers to the teeth with semi-automatic weapons is a really, really bad idea and operationalise a countermeasure
• Timely and cost-effective freight becomes a thing again

But for now, the bad news rolls on.  The latest float to pass before me in the street-parade of doom is that the entire East coast of our country is about to run out of electricity.   This has something to do with Russia but possibly even more to do with something very Russian: an oligarchy manipulating a market for their own advantage.  It’s ironic that the “energy crisis” arrives on the same day that my car won’t charge (the power company has temporarily disabled off-peak power) and a letter from that company was in my mailbox stating that, for my convenience, my electricity rates are “changing” to the tune of between a 20 and 30% increase.

I’m still digesting the 20% price hike on my preferred, go-to night nappy and am waiting nervously for the other regulars in my absorbent retinue to have their prices “changed”.

This can’t go on.

Perhaps it’s a foreboding sense fiscal rectitude that has seen my pee-control lurch back towards “normal”.  For the last few nights, I’ve been waking 3 or more times to find a significant quantity of pee in my bladder.  It’s VERY annoying and the more annoyed I get about it, the more my previously-commonplace bedwetting (allowing longer, better, wetter sleep) seems to retreat. 

I’m trying not to think about this in the hope I will get back to where I was a few weeks ago but there is an inherent paradox in trying NOT to think about something though.  So, I’ll think about something else…  Putting planet-wide existential crises to one side: let’s deep dive the trivial from a nappy perspective:

Changing myself after work today I noticed that yet again, a very minor press-out leak had occurred from my Rearz Hybrid Elite (“Barry”).  Barry doesn’t leak to the extent of any disaster, or even real inconvenience but an entire day sitting on my backside using Barry (such as when I’m out of a particularly long equipment delivery run, perhaps 300km or more) is asking for trouble.

The usual leak mode from Barry is a minor press-out leak at a rear thigh or perhaps, an inside crotch.  This almost invariably occurs whilst peeing seated and can result at worst in a slight damp patch on my outerwear or sometimes, just a tell-tale coolness on one of my plastic pant leggings.  Driving is a big risk factor for this because I pee very frequently and always seated in the same position of a fairly agricultural, low cost light commercial vehicle seat.

Although not incontinent, it would be all but impossible to attempt any kind of substantive equipment run WITHOUT a nappy now as it seems I’m going to have to pee at least hourly if I’m out of nappies and every few minutes if I’m in them.

The burning question here is, why is it ALWAYS the right hand side that leaks?  ALWAYS!  NEVER the left!

I’d thought about asymmetry in tapes but the “Barry” has landing zone marks for tapes and as I spent most of my life in IT, the thought of NOT having those tapes positioned with millimetre-accurate symmetry would be an abomination to me.  They ARE positioned identically.

• Is it because I’m left handed (and therefore, left-gaited)?  Perhaps I “wear out” the legging on one side before the other?
• Is it because the right hand tapes are fastened LAST (to do so otherwise would seem somehow, wrong…)?  Again, the landing zone mark enforced tape symmetry would seem to render this point moot.
• Is it because we drive on the left (the side that god and nature intended so that right-handed chariot drivers could eviscerate oncoming drivers with their battle-arm) and therefore it’s the right leg that does the “swing” to get out of a vehicle?
• Is it something else?

It’s always the right hand side of jeans that sees precipitation…  Never the left.  Why?  Answers on a postcard please addressed to "The soggiest buttock, Southern Hemisphere"

 

[FretaBWet]

Dear Soggiest Buttock, is it possible that as a male of the species your "equipment" reliably hangs to the right side therefore the right side gets oversaturated?

Hugs,

Freta

[diapered 4 ever]

15 hours ago, oznl said:

It’s always the right hand side of jeans that sees precipitation…  Never the left.  Why?  Answers on a postcard please addressed to "The soggiest buttock, Southern Hemisphere"

 

I may have a possible answer for you oznl, I've recently noticed (to my OCD diaper installation side's dismay) that the last few  cases of my In control's, Barry's and the lighter day weight Inspires have had noticeably off center landing zone prints.  >_>

[oznl]

Two lines of inquiry from the diaper hive-mind of DD!

8 hours ago, FretaBWet said:

Dear Soggiest Buttock, is it possible that as a male of the species your "equipment" reliably hangs to the right side therefore the right side gets oversaturated?

Hugs,

Freta

Not quite yet sure how I'm going to operationalise this but standby for "World's Weirdest Observational Experiment"... ?

24 minutes ago, diapered 4 ever said:

I may have a possible answer for you oznl, I've recently noticed (to my OCD diaper installation side's dismay) that the last few  cases of my In control's, Barry's and the lighter day weight Inspires have had noticeably off center landing zone prints.  >_>

This will be checked.  A tape measure is going straight to my nappy-change-bin!  If I find an error, I'm calling the symmetry police!

[oznl]

Another week went past in 10 minutes. 

I’d be scratching around to tell you anything interesting that happened so I’ll make this a brief update.

I think my body has been toying with the idea of getting nappy rash: right down on my perineum.  I’ve felt the odd “mild sunburn” sensation when showering (I make a point of rinsing the area with hot water twice per day to manage any odour).  That part of my real estate doesn’t get that much sudocrem and remains pee-wet for 23 of the 24 hours in every day.  I’m making more of an effort here.  Upon reflection, that really doesn’t qualify as “interesting”.

Let me try harder…

In terms of pushing forward the frontiers of nappy science, I HAVE been poking around trying to get to the root cause behind mysterious “right hand side only” Barry (Rearz Incontrol Hybrid Elite) micro-leaks, firstly, I checked my Barry landing zone markers for symmetry (of COURSE I did that).  We’d be arguing about plus or minus a couple of millimeter here so I think we can discount that theory with respect the right-hand bias for leaking.

Secondly, I tried taping them up the other way: ie doing up the right hand tapes before the left.  Apart from the fact that doing this felt wrong on multiple levels with my personal god of left-handedness roaring at me, it made no difference.  I was promptly rewarded with a tiny damp spot on my rear right thigh at the end of the working day.

The “which way am I pointing inside that nappy?” question I can’t think of how to answer without risking an interview with HR.  As near as I can tell though, I’m in a relatively “neutral” position.  Wetting events that I can recall (there are loads of these across a day so they get a bit blurry) seem fairly symmetrical if the spread of warmth is anything to go by.

The residual theory that it is to do with getting out of my car can be resolved by a preponderance of left-sided leaks from left-hand-drive countries so, over to YOU there if you wear a Barry and drive a lot on the wrong side of the road AND leak from the left instead.

I performed a little bit of forensic pathology on an expired Barry today.  Its gross weight of 1875g suggested a pee-load of around 1650ml, not unsurprising for a day-shift nappy at end of 12 hours but within the “one third” rule of ISO capacity.

The padding was uniformly wet across the front, down between the legs and extending perhaps one third of the way up my buttocks.  Regardless of the relative symmetry of the stain, the inner right hand leg cuff felt wet to the touch whereas the left did not.  This hint was further evidenced by a small damp spot on my black compression shorts.  These micro-leaks are occurring not so much at the rear thigh (although thanks to plastic pants, this is often where they present) but more right down between my legs although on the right side only.

Weird.  And that’s saying something coming from somebody as weird as me.

[BabyJilly_S]

I generally "hang" left and the majority of my leaks are left side, generally a flood leak i think as i am still not in the "go every 15" minutes club. Tend to get engrossed in work and forget to do it. Happens mostly when the nappy his nearing its end of life and it hasn't wicked it away to dryer areas when i am sat down. 

I don't drive my car very much, so when i get a press out leak its both sides from my motorcycle seat. 

Being stood up all day lessens leakage and improves the wicking for me

 

[Little Sherri]

I have worn Barrys (Barries?) in the car and we drive on the left side of the road over here, however I have not experienced the failure mode you're describing on either side, for the most part, and when I have had the odd press-out leak from a Barry, I haven't been taking notes as to which side it's been on, because it's so infrequent. For the most part, press-out leaks in a diaper the capacity of Barry occur, for me, primarily in my office chair, rather than in my car, because some confluence of my height, weight, preferred pant size, and maybe Coriolis forces, make those garments impossible to wear in public once they become that swollen, confining me to a venue where leaks are mere inconveniences, not potential day-changers. If I'm in a Barry in the car, it's never that close to the edge, is what I'm saying. 

I wonder if it has to do with your using your right leg more than your left, though, when you drive an automatic (or electric) car? Does the back-and-forth between the peddles (or the on-and-off of the one peddle), have something to do with it? Also, for people who drive on the left hand side of the road, and are seated in the right of the car, a left-hand turn is the "tighter turn" than a right-hand turn, and generates more g-forces, which tend to transfer your weight to the right momentarily. Could that have something to do with the consistency of your leak coordinates? 

I guess the only way to know for sure would be to fly trans-continentally and spend a couple of weeks driving on the left side of the car and making steeper turns to the right, all while blissfully dribbling into a Barry. Perhaps you should fire up a crowd-funding appeal. I'd make a small contribution. 

[oznl]

Pee dreams (nappy dreams really) certainly aren’t as common as they used to be but they never seem to completely go away.   For me there appears to be two distinct categories of a “nappy dream”.

Fear of social sanction.

These dreams seem related to unwanted-but-unavoidable public exposure of my nappies (or nappy-related circumstance) to friends, family, peers or sometimes complete strangers.  Themes typically include messes I can’t hide or public disclosure of my nappies that I can’t avoid.  In them, my personal agency is limited and efforts that I might make to mitigate my undesirable situation are inevitably futile.

For some reason, poop is a recurring them.  This is especially annoying as I’m not a habitual nappy pooper.  I find it unfair that I should be psychologically tormented for a social crime that I’m not in the habit of committing but it seems the scales of justice are not balance when you’re asleep.  A typical scenario:

Quelle horreur!  I have filled my nappy at some point whilst staying away from my own home and I’ve sprung a poop-leak. 

It’s a minor matter.  A small brown stain on a bed cover.  I wipe it off as best as I can with a damp washcloth that appeared in my hand as if by sorcery. 

I can manage this.

Ooh, somebody is watching me through an open door!  Oh well.

Then I find another poop stain.  Ok, I’ll clean that too.  Then some more on a wall, and a door.  More people are watching me through a window now.  I notice poop on the ceiling.  Some more fell down my leg.  Another poop mark.  And another.  And another.

Like Mickey Mouse’s self-replicating animated broom sticks from “Fantasia” but browner, the poop stains I am discovering are multiplying exponentially, cartwheeling away from plausibility, controllability and my capacity to conceal them.  Shortly, everywhere I look is contaminated by poop and onlookers.  It is hopeless now.

I CAN’T manage this.

I wake in fright.

One night last week I had a “pee” social sanction dream.  Usually these dreams revolve around my FEAR of social sanction rather than social sanction itself but perhaps my subconscious got bored.

I was in our office.  It was late in the day and I knew I was wet.  A manager wandered over to complain loudly in my vicinity that I smelled of pee.

Not sure how best to respond in this novel situation, I studied my computer monitor intensively.  Soon more staff came.  Something of a pile-on occurred.  Everybody was opining about my olfactory malfeasance: a kind of pee-party lynch mob.

I remained a study in mute misery until I woke up.

Other dreams have included having co-workers being in a vehicle with me when I realise I have a bunch of spare nappies and plastic pants stacked on the seat next to them.  Or just being out and about in a social group before realising that in some kind of wardrobe tragedy, I’ve forgotten to put pants on over my nappy and I’m stuck with the consequences hanging out with friends at a shopping mall in thick cloth nappies and plastic pants.  You know, the sort of crazy zany antics that happen in everyday life.

They’re not so much dreams as a kind of low-level nightmare.  They’ve slowed, but never quite stopped.

Physiological narrative. 

For me, these dreams revolve around scenarios where I need to pee or I AM peeing.  They may or may not involve the use of nappies and they may or may not include vivid physiological sensations associated with wetting one’s self that may or may not include actual wetness.

This class of dream became quite common as I began moving toward bedwetting.  As bedwetting became established, they became rarer but never completely left.  Presumably, these days they occasionally happen by way of explanatory narrative to a sleeping brain to rationalise what is happening inside my pants or sometimes even, to rationalise what I am ABOUT to do in my pants.  Sometimes I dream that I’m peeing.  Sometimes I dream that I’m about to pee but it’s ok.

I had one of these again on Wednesday night.  Wednesday is an alcohol day and I’m aware the alcohol is a strong predictor of bedwetting for me.

I woke up during the night to discover the room is cold.  In the middle of a Brisbane winter, sleeping next to a menopausal beloved whose craving for cool would put a polar bear to shame this is not an unusual turn of events.  Every window is open.  The indoor temperature looks a lot like the outdoor temperature (maybe 10 or 12C) and I thank deities of my choice that at least she hasn’t turned on the ceiling fan.

She’s warm next to me, like a personal radiator.  I’ve woken on my side facing her watching the gentle rise and fall of her chest, noticing that there is condensation on the window.

I decide to warm things up a bit by wetting the bed.  I’m not actually thinking that I’m in a nappy but I’m going to pee in bed anyway.  That’s the kind of thing we do in dream-world.  We make appalling decisions.  I don’t sense any need to pee but that doesn’t really matter.  All I need to do is to NOT prevent my bladder from draining whatever might be in it and I’m no mood to do that.

I’m duly rewarded with that signature creeping warmth emanating from the relevant physiological territory.

Shit!  The sheets!  She’s gonna get wet any second and I’ll be in trouble!  Suddenly my dream narrative backs into common sense parked adjacently in, from a social capital perspective, an expensive crunch.

Nervously I probe around under the covers, testing the lower sheet to the front of where my left hip meets the mattress to survey that magnitude of any disaster.

There is no disaster.  It’s dry.  How did I get away with that?  Oh well.  Let’s sleep some more.

Then it’s morning.  I’m in a wet nappy.  I’m not 100% sure when all of the wet nappy action happened but I dimly recall fragments of this dream.  With a bit of restorative effort, I am able to prise the pieces of narrative out of the tar pit of forgetfulness into which they were descending and preserve them.

That’s what “pee dreams” (nappy dreams) look like to me nowadays.

[oznl]

Leak update #1

There’s nothing like the sensation of warm pee running down ones inside leg to slam one’s nappy-use back into focus in an instant.

It was an old-school, kite-folded-and-pinned terry cloth nappy that failed me thusly too.  A garb that 99% of the time offers a bullet-proof ability to capture and hold anything my nether regions might throw at it.

I’ve had these near-catastrophic cloth failures before albeit very rarely.

They can happen I suspect when they are locally wet (they have loads of absorbency left but the crotch area is particularly wet) AND they are pinned awkwardly AND they get wet further whilst standing.  Cloth does a fabulous job of capturing and wicking pee but if it’s super wet, it can take a little longer to do it’s thing.  I suspect in this situation, some pee gets (temporarily) deflected from the saturated material, runs down the inside of my nappy at the front crotch and before it can be captured, finds an escape path through an air-gap at my inner-front thigh before pooling and then escaping from my plastic pant leg elastic.  As failures of this type involve deflected/uncontained pee falling out of a nappy-gap courtesy of gravity to pool at a plastic pant legging, the resultant leak is always a “rivulet”, not a “damp spot”.

Such is my faith in my “terries” that these very rare failures almost always blind-side me.

I’d pinned myself into this heavy terry night nappy at around 6pm.  By 10pm, I was somewhat wet but I had loads of capacity to cope with overnight.

I arose from my comfortable recliner/armchair and waddled into the kitchen to rinse a glass before retiring upstairs. 

I’d turned on the kitchen tap and after doing so, felt a warm trace race down my inner right thigh, cooling as it travelled down to meet the top of my sock.

I realised I was peeing.  Running water from taps does this.

I suppose in earlier days, I’d have panicked and clamped off the flow.

The days being as strange as they are, I reflexively just grabbed the crotch of my nappy and pushed it into my crotch, immediately stemming the leak.  That nappy had loads of absorbency.  This was an escape, not an overflow.

Inspecting the damage, my compression panty had a wet spot and the inside of my tracksuit leg had a rapidly cooling wet trace.  It was due for a wash anyway.  That's my excuse and I'm sticking with it.

Figuring that further wettings in that position were unlikely, I just went to bed in it anyway (minus the slightly soggy trackies).  Of course the large and comfortable terry took care of everything until late the next morning when I reluctantly changed out of it.

I recalled a similar cloth leak that happened not long before I’d gone “24/7”.  I’d climbed out of my car and peed a bit as I did (somewhat less automatically back then) before realising I now had a wet spot down the inside leg of my jeans.  Oops.

Old school is generally good school, but not always.

It’s been the week of the leak.  More to follow…

[BedWetMark]

On 6/30/2022 at 1:09 PM, oznl said:

In the middle of a Brisbane winter, sleeping next to a menopausal beloved whose craving for cool would put a polar bear to shame this is not an unusual turn of events.  Every window is open.  The indoor temperature looks a lot like the outdoor temperature (maybe 10 or 12C) and I thank deities of my choice that at least she hasn’t turned on the ceiling fan.

 

 

My entire takeaway from this excellent post was that 10-12c was cold ...

I love that temp and all my windows are open at night even down to 7/8c.  Neither me or my wife can stand a warm bedroom.  I know it's a bit weird, but so is my dress sense

[oznl]

Leak update #2

Leaks have been the theme of the week.

I’m well aware that I push-the-envelope with respect to nappy usage, running as I do a 2-super-nappy-per-day diet that makes few allowances for unscheduled changes.

Dressing for success in my world is wearing a nappy and associated gear that can reliably cope with a 12 hour shift.

Our winter here has been unusually cold and unusually wet.  I’ve noticed that in the absence of the significant perspiration that is a fact of life in our climate, there’s more pee going on.  Einstein’s famous special relativity equation (E = mc2 in case you needed to google) suggests that dissipating fluids as energy would most likely be a fission event that would have caught my attention so it shouldn’t surprise me that instead, a day’s worth of coffee, water and coke zero for the most part simply reappears in my pants as pee some time later.

There have been leaks, one major one.

I was out delivering equipment towards the end of the day.  I’d just dropped off and as I was standing in the back of the van, making sure everything that needed to be strapped down was for the next leg of the journey, I realised how wet I actually was.  These days I’ve largely lost insight into how much and when a nappy gets used.  I just change on timing.  Timing said “no change” but “feel” saw things differently and was shouting “For god’s sake change!” from adjacent rooftops.  It was a cold, wet day and my underwear unusually reflected this, distinctly cold and wet.

Crouching down to adjust a cargo strap I thought I could feel a suspicious cool patch on, you guessed it, my rear right thigh.   Dabbing at the area of question revealed a perhaps coffee cup diameter sized, cold wet patch of denim.  Brilliant!

Standing up, I rummaged around inside my dribble-disguising black jeans to make sure that my nappy was fully covered by my plastic pants.  It was.  This was a flat-out absorbency failure.  There was only another 90 minutes left in the day so I thought things should be ok.

It was only when I paused again to check off some paperwork before getting back into the driver seat that I realised I was peeing again.

It was one of those semi-automatic voids that happen a lot these days.  In all probability I’d reflexively permitted it but hadn’t applied much (or for that matter, ANYTHING) in the way of judgement.  I seemed to be going quite a bit down there but that doesn’t count for much these days as my flow rate is often quite low.  Things are often not as bad as they seem.

But today they were.

The issue was that my nappy needed another load of pee like Ozzy Osbourne’s liver needs another pub crawl but it had already started and by now, my “emergency stop” button is broken.  In days of yore, I probably would have clamped down reflexively and considered my “bail out” options but these days, stopping peeing is something that I can’t seem to quite remember how to do anymore.

And anyway, even if I COULD stop, what was the plan then?  There was no toilet nearby and I’m not very good at holding.  Best to let it finish and hope for the best.

Things were getting VERY wet in there now.  It seemed like I had a miniature private bath going on inside the front of my nappy and whilst not at all unpleasant from a sensual perspective, I realised that this “wet” sensation was because there was pee was sloshing around with no particular place to go.  The best I could do though was to stand very still with legs slightly akimbo and wait for events to run their course. 

After the internal dripping sensations had abated, I gave things a few more minutes so that puddled pee might be captured and held by whatever magic chemical still existed in my Barry before waddling carefully back to the van in order to sit down carefully.

Returning to the cabin, I lowered myself gingerly onto a strategically placed microfiber towel to a noticeable squelching sensation.  Driving back to the office, I swear I could actually feel some kind of bubbling sensation from over-wet SAP getting squished between my legs like a very small spa bath.  There were some more drips and dribbles along the way.

Upon my return I realised with dismay that the cool damp patch, far from “drying out” had spread to a nearly saucer-sized spot on my bum which was really more wet than damp and clearly had at some point involved my left, as well as my right thigh.

This did not bode well for my office chair.  It saw action.  There’s an upholstery cleaner out in the warehouse and I think I need to use it.  To be honest, the range of suspicious stains on that chair pre-dates any leakage from me anyway and I’ve had my eye on that upholstery cleaner for a while.

After a few cool, wet minutes, I decided to update the database remotely from home and spent the last 20 minutes or so of the day doing standing work sloshing about in the warehouse.

At least I still had dry legs.

For the drive home, I placed a cloth nappy that I had in the driver’s door pocket (I actually use it to clean the windscreen) on the seat.

Proceeding directly from garage to bathroom, after the second tape was removed my Barry fell off me like a shot monkey.

Measurements revealed that although leaking profusely at the crotch, Barry was only carrying a payload of about 1800ml.  I noticed that again, fully 30% of the padding at the rear of my Barry was quite dry.

It does seem to be a thing that the SAP in some of these high capacity disposable nappies saturates quickly at “ground zero” before preferentially leaking over wicking leaving still-available dry padding elsewhere.

It’s another reminder of how unrelated the ISO measurement of nappy capacity is to actual use in the field.

I’m wondering whether wearing a pair of cotton underpants beneath a nappy like this could actually improve its performance.  Presumably the cotton would be able to wick moisture to fresh fields in a way that the SAP/PULP completely fails to do.

It somewhat defeats the purpose of a disposable nappy though.  There’s also the small matter that I only have ONE pair of underwear left to my name and I haven’t seen it in nearly 12 months.

[Little Sherri]

Your diaper dream posts reveal anxieties similar to mine, I suspect. Which is not at all surprising, I guess, since we face many of the same perils day to day (minus deadly reptiles, insects and aquatic life, for me, and minus freezing solid, for you). I've never actually had a dream where I thought I was wetting the bed and that I wasn't wearing a nappy - that's interesting. As far as I can recall, my wife sleeping next to me hasn't really featured in any of them either. But your dreams about being socially exposed ring very true; a few of my diaper dreams involved finding myself in my car, wearing just a diaper below the waist, and then being put into some kind of situation where I was forced, for safety reasons to get out of the car, thusly clad, while people, generally strangers, were milling around. 

[oznl]

More money than you know what to do with?  Crushed by capital?  Interested in a crash-diet for your bank balance?

Go and buy some (decent) adult nappies…

I tried it today.   There’s no quicker way to divest wealth.

Holy padded primates!  WTF happened to nappy prices??

I’m fully aware that as a captive inmate of a comparatively small market on the arse end of the planet, there is a certain comfortable apathy with respect to free market competition but the prices I’m now seeing for those padded things that go on the arse end of ME are now starting to take the piss metaphorically as well as literally.

It wasn’t a Kardashian-level shopping event.  I bought a case of BetterDry, a case of Rearz Incontrol Hybrid Elite (Barry) and, because not everything in life tastes best in plain vanilla, one teensy-weensy packet of Mermaid Tales, just for those days where it might be inconvenient to change a nappy for 18 hours or so OR I wanted to look like a 1970s cartoon knock-off.

The landed price for this lot?  AUD399 (worth only around USD270 since the little Aussie battler has been kicked to the curb in value because somebody in China ate a bat).

This is around 25% higher than it was in the “before times”.

It now costs me less to buy the coke zero I use to make the pee (assuming I’m off the beers) than it costs in nappies to deal with the pee later.

At least I’m able to take something of the edge of this pricing by traipsing up to my local big nappy dealer and collecting them in person.  I actually got them for a bit less than AUD399 but not 25% less.  The affable proprietor for “Littles Downunder” cheerfully ditches the postage and handling charges built into his prices (it’s quicker money for him anyway).  I also believe him that he’s not gouging anybody.  He’s on the wrong end of a global supply chain.

So, for 108 nappies, that works out at an average of AUD3.69 per nappy!

I was planning on peeing in them, not framing them to hang in a gallery. 

Augmented with a generous amount of cloth usage, I will probably stretch out that purchase to last a couple of months but it’s still becoming an expensive hobby.  Perhaps I should try something less expensive such as race horses or perhaps, anti-depressants?

I’m well aware that there are such things as “cheaper nappies” but running the math, it’s false economy.  You just use more of them as well as spending a lot of time cleaning chairs, rugs and outerwear.  Decent ABDL nappies (and I include “BetterDry” and “Barry” as ABDL as only ABDL dealers sell them here) are not just a “bit” better than the gossamer-thin, accountant-designed garments-of-woe found in medical supply stores, they are LIGHT YEARS better.

There ARE however “even more expensive” nappies that I DON’T buy (not that I might not like to). 

I’ve heard great things about Megamax but for me, they remain a distant aspirational goal, like having my own helicopter.  ABU prices aren’t THAT bad here until you get to the delivery fees (which, based on the numbers quoted, is presumably carried out using the owner’s own helicopter flown by James Bond).

I’m reluctant to utter the rhetorical “How much worse can this get?” in case I find out.

Anyway, thus concluding my rant I’m off for my evening change having not so much “spent a penny” as 369 of them…

[Newbee]

I rarely order from him these days as he now charges me au$30 delivery which is nearly the price of a packet of nappies. I am unable to do pick up as I’m in another state the delivery was free if you ordered over au$100 which I always did so between the price hike in nappies and the cost of delivery these are why I don’t order from him much.

[oznl]

1 hour ago, Newbee said:

I rarely order from him these days as he now charges me au$30 delivery which is nearly the price of a packet of nappies. I am unable to do pick up as I’m in another state the delivery was free if you ordered over au$100 which I always did so between the price hike in nappies and the cost of delivery these are why I don’t order from him much.

Yes.  ABU has (regrettably) fallen off my menu due to prohibitively high shipping costs to QLD.  A single "half case" to Brisbane is $30 shipping.  A "full case" is $60 (twice the half case price) which doesn't seem to make any sense as there should be some greater efficiency there.

I realise that fuel costs are through the roof but these prices are way out in front of other vendors.  It's also a little bewildering to me as to why they've been "working on" fixing the shipping price calculation bungles for non-mixed cases on their website for literally years now with no discernible progress.  Perhaps they are not even aware that their shipping prices are borked and just serve the local Melbourne market.

[Puppyz]

Yeah I'm happy to be in my $30 for 14 Molicares. Even with a double Lillee or whatever brand booster, It's an extra 30c or so for each wearing which is around 2 a day.