With her mother’s help Megan slowly got up off the couch and made her way into the bathroom. She stopped by the toilet, sure that she would vomit again, but nothing came up. Nancy helped her undress and got the water running in the shower.
“Wear do you keep your diapers?” she asked.
“In my purse. Why?”
“I think it would be best if you wore one for now.”
“Oh.”
Megan wasn’t going to argue that one. She was a mess and she still felt sick. Nancy left her to shower and Megan stood under the water until she was satisfied she no longer smelled of urine or vomit. She then stepped out, dried herself off with a fluffy towel and put on the robe her mother left for her. She remembered to put on the diaper.
When Megan emerged from the bathroom, her parents eyed her with concerned curiosity.
“I just got off the phone with Dr. Hardy,” Drew explained. “He said, it was probably a panic attack in conjunction with an upset stomach.”
“Well, I did have a sundae earlier,” Meg confessed.
“Anyway, drink lots of fluids and get some rest.”
Megan nodded. She felt like going to sleep anyway.
“Wasn’t there something else?” Nancy asked.
“He also gave me the name of a counselor,” Drew continued.
“I don’t need a shrink,” Megan asserted.
“She’s not a shrink. Well…not in the traditional sense, from what I can gather.”
“Megan, I think it would be best if you talked to her on Monday,” said Nancy. “I’ll call the pharmacy and tell them that you’re sick.”
Megan giggled.
“What’s so funny?” Nancy asked.
“You’re telling a pharmacy that I’m sick.”
Sick she was and still felt as she slowly walked towards her room and climbed into bed. It was not long before she fell asleep.
Megan awoke the next morning with a growling stomach and a soaked diaper. Neither were signs that she was well. She felt lightheaded and weak. A glance at her alarm clock revealed that she slept 12 hours. She felt as if she could sleep about 12 more.
Groaning, she slowly sat up. Her limbs felt like dead weight and she had to take everything in steps. Her diaper clung uncomfortably to her. Megan knew it would be a pain to get changed and cleaned up.
She was nearly out of bed when Nancy arrived, plastic bag in hand.
“How are you feeling?”
“Better, Mom,” she replied. Her voice sounded hoarse and strained.
“You don’t sound better. And you look pale.”
“It’s because I haven’t eaten anything.”
Nancy presented her with a bottle of water from the bag and Megan began to drink it.
“How’s your diaper?”
She nearly spit out the water at the mention of the word diaper.
“I need to change,” she quietly revealed.
“Well, let me help you with that.”
“Mom,” Megan protested. “I can do it myself.”
“I’m sure you can,” Nancy reasoned. “But you are sick so I am going to help you. Besides, I don’t want you leaking and making a mess.”
Megan nodded. Her diaper was a lot more bloated than usual and, despite the embarrassment; she could actually use the help.
The plastic bag Nancy brought contained a fresh package of diapers.
“Don’t worry,” Nancy explained. “I didn’t get them at Bledsoe’s.”