The next morning when he walked into the work room, he noticed a new whiteboard on the cabinet, completely blank except for lines and dates hand-drawn to make a calendar. On the counter were a little box of magnets, and an industrial size bottle that he realized was full of fiber laxative caps.
Next to his water bottle, already filled for him, was a little cup with 2 capsules in it. Oh, boy, she was serious. As he set his bag down, he noticed her watching him. He nodded at the medicine cup.
“I’m assuming those are for me?”
She smiled. “You bet! The bottle says to take 2-4 daily, or however many are needed. I figured we’d start with two daily, and just increase the amount until you are pooping daily. And…”, and here she jumped up excitedly and walked over to the calendar. “…this is the poop chart I made for you! Do you like it?”
He reddened. “Chart?”
She nodded. “Poop chart, that’s right. When you make a poop the night before, or before you come in in the morning, you can put a smiley face magnet on the day. Or more than one if you’ve been really busy. If you haven’t made a poop since we saw each other, you should put a frowny face.”
She held out the box of stickers to him. “Go ahead, try it out!”
He stood there staring at the magnets, and then looked up at her, pained. “Seriously?”
She looked a little hurt, then resolute. “Yes, seriously. I bought the magnets, and made the chart, so that you wouldn’t have to talk about your pooping every day. I was being sensitive to your weird shyness about your bathroom habits. I thought this would be easier. Would you rather I asked you each morning?” she inquired, her eyebrows raised.
“No, no,” he said hurriedly. “I guess the magnets are better than having to talk about…that. Thanks for being so considerate.”
She stood there with the box, patiently. Eventually he got the clue.
“Oh! Right,” he mumbled. “Well, um…” He found a red sad face magnet and picked it out. He put it over yesterday’s date. “How’s that?”
She put the box down. “Well, it’s a fine job with the magnet, if that’s what you’re asking. Your kindergarten teacher would be proud,” she said, patting him on the head comically. “But not so great for your pooping. We’ll see how you do on 2 of these daily, and increase it until we see a lot more happy faces on that chart! Make sure you keep track of your poops! Be sure you mark them on the calendar, because otherwise you might get too much fiber!”
She patted him on the bottom, and turned toward their diaper cabinet. “Speaking of which, let’s get you ready for the day!”
Something about that comment made him a little uncomfortable, but she ushered him onto the exam table and had him diapered before he could think about what it was. The day was fairly typical for them, busy and efficient. His wet diapers were changed, and not another word was uttered about fiber or pooping for the rest of the day.
Within a few days, and after she increased his fiber once, he was able to add a happy-faced magnet to the chart, and was rewarded with a big smile from Julie. He grimaced, eager to avoid the subject.
“I know, I know. You don’t want to talk about it. But if you get a few more of those in a row, we won’t need to increase the dose.” She patted him on his diapered bottom as he headed off to see patients.
As they were getting ready to go home that day, after his final diaper change, he finally was able to verbalize what had been bugging him.
“Julie, can I ask you a question?” he said as they were gathering up their things after the other staff had gone home. “What if…if the fiber works TOO well? You know, here at work?”
She blinked at him. “What do you mean?”
He blushed. “Well, you know, I’m all for regular bowel movements in theory, but what if we’re here, and I’m, you know, wearing a diaper…” He looked at her meaningfully, but was met with silence.
“And…” she prompted, appearing not to understand. Damn it, he thought. She was going to make him say it out loud.
“And I need to…” He realized she would not want him to use a medical term. “…poop, here at work. I just want to make sure we’re both…clear…on the fact that there is NO way I’m going to do…that…in my diaper. I’ll just go to the bathroom in that case. I just don’t want you to be surprised or upset when I do. Maybe we could make it so I could tell you once I’m back that that’s why I went, or something.” His cheeks burned. This was ridiculous to talk about.
Julie shook her head. “Sorry, no. Out of the question.”
He stared at her. “Um…what is?”
She stared. “You, using the potty. That’s not going to happen.”
He stared back, unsure he had heard her correctly. Maybe she had misunderstood. “No, I mean, in case I should need to…you know…poop.”
She appeared to relent, approaching him and laying her hand on his arm. “Sweetie, I heard what you said. I just meant that you aren’t going to be allowed to use the potty at all, even if you have to poop.”
As she saw his face darken, she stroked his forearm to comfort him. “It took you five minutes to pee before diapers. Imagine how long it takes you to poop in there. I have waited on you, so I know. If it makes sense for you to use a diaper for peeing, it makes far more sense to wear it for pooping.”
He was clearly not convinced, so she continued, “And then there would be the business of you trying to undo your diaper, then trying to refasten it correctly in the potty. That could be dangerous for leaks later.” Her lips pressed together, she shook her head sadly. “I’m sorry. I know you want to use the potty like a big boy when you poop, but I just cannot let that happen. It would be a disaster.”
She picked up her purse, as if the conversation were over. But he couldn’t leave it there. He couldn’t let this stand as an agreement. She didn’t seem to understand what using a diaper that way would entail.
“But…but…no, wait. But you don’t really want that, right? I mean, changing a wet diaper is one thing, but this would be…different. Gross, and horrible. I—I mean, right? Why would you want to do that?” He thought of something. “Maybe I could do it?” he asked hopefully. That would at least not be so humiliating.
“Don’t be silly,” she said, turning to leave. “I’ve told you: I have nursing training, and mommy training. I know what it is like to change a poopy diaper, and I’m prepared to do it if it needs to be done.”
Why was she so casual about all this? It made no sense. “But—but—the smell. People would know. I can’t—“ He was close to tears.
Seeing this, she stopped. She saw that he couldn’t meet her gaze. She reached up and gently raised his chin so that their eyes met. She squeezed his hands firmly. “If it happens, we’ll manage. I’ll take care of it without anyone knowing, just like we do with your wet diapers. I won’t let anything bad happen. I promise.”
She watched his face, seeing the uncertainty. She spoke again, and reached a hand up to one cheek. “Here’s how it would work. You are a big enough boy to tell when it will happen. If you feel like you need to poop, you just come and get me. You don’t have to wait until after it happens. You can interrupt me, and come back to this room. You can poop in here, and then we can change you immediately.”
She released his chin, and he looked down. He swallowed. “Maybe we could also stop the fiber. It seems like—“
She cut him off. “Oh, no. We’re not compromising your health just because of your embarrassment.” She snorted softly and smiled. “That would be a bad precedent to set. And anyway, we’ve been doing that for a few days, and nothing bad has happened. I’m not giving you fiber to make you poop at work. I’m not bothered by messy diapers, but I don’t need more of them. You can keep doing that at home.”
He was clearly not happy, but nodded and was quiet. She knew he’d be okay with it, just as he had agreed to wetting his diapers. He just needed time. But she needed to be careful with how she handled the next week or two, as he would be fragile emotionally.
He was surprised when she drew him into a tight hug. She held him for a full minute. Initially shocked, he realized it felt really good. He felt her reassurance, realized that he needed it, and hugged her back. In fact, it was hard for him not to cry. She was so nice, wasn’t she? She also smelled good. Nice and familiar.
She felt him return her hug, and heard him sigh. Holy cow, that was sweet. That kind of emotional connection was definitely one of the major highs she got from mothering. And so soon!
She finally released him. “Look, if you poop at work, we’ll get through it. No big deal. Then we’ll go back to kicking some medical ass.” She smiled, and turned to leave.
He picked up his bag, and headed out. He couldn’t remember feeling so close to someone. Could he trust her that much? It was scary. But she felt like someone who really could take care of him.