Ryo glanced at the balled up, wet medical diaper. It was at the bottom of the bed, by his right ankle. The left side of the mattress, where his lower leg and foot should have been, was empty. He winced, quickly shutting his eyes. Aurora handled his missing limb better than he did. It had been weeks since the accident, and the sight of his stump still churned his stomach.
Mere weeks since the last time he’d surfed. Since his near fatal encounter with a great white. Surfing was in his blood; his mother and grandfather were avid surfers. Ryo had grown up surfing; he’d even placed first in a few local competitions. His grandfather owned a surfing shop where he made custom boards. Ryo often helped him. Surfing was Ryo’s hobby, but most of his money came from modeling contracts. All surfers knew the danger lurking below the waves. They knew the risk getting into the ocean. He’d seen scars of shark bites on some avid surfers. He’d seen boards with huge, jagged bites. He realized the danger in the rational part of his brain, but a small part of him had insisted it would never happen to him. That insular bubble of ignorance had been popped by serrated shark teeth. Now, his life was like his missing leg; crushed and shredded. He didn’t know where to start picking up the pieces. The only thing he did know deep down in his bones was he had to protect Ro from making the same mistake he did.
Ro had grown up diving. Her mother ran a diving school and her father worked for the local zoo and aquarium, cleaning and maintaining the huge, deep tanks. He was a retired abalone diver. Ro helped her mother run the school in the off seasons of abalone hunting. It was too lucrative to pass up. She could make a hundred thousand dollars in under fifty days. Those mollusk delicacies were so expensive partly due to the dangers involved in harvesting them. Abalone season coincided with great white breeding season. The father of Ryo and Ro’s friend Sheila had been an abalone diver who’d been killed by a great white. Ryo had lost his leg to a great white. His leg, his surfing, his modeling. Life as he knew it was changed. He couldn’t lose his heart, too. His Aurora.
“I don’t like these hospital diapers. They’re too thin. Fourth leak already. You need better protection. Your bottom’s a little red, too. I think you’re getting a diaper rash. The nurses aren’t changing you enough. I’ll have a word with them when I leave.” Ro ran out of reasons to keep fussing with his diaper. He felt her tug down his thin hospital gown from where it was bunched up by his armpits. The gown hid his diaper; the hem brushed the knee of his right leg and the bandaged stump of his left. She covered his lower half with a scratchy, puke-green blanket.
“It’s not so bad. They only leak if I’m not changed on time. The one nurse’s aide is always late. The blue haired girl with the nose ring.” Ryo managed to catch her gaze for a second before her eyes skittered away.
“I need to throw this out.” Ro mumbled and hastily snatched up the used diaper that was squishy and cold with his pee. She carried it to the red biohazard bin.
He frowned at her back. He wriggled his hips, adjusting his position on the mattress. His diaper crinkled loudly in response. His night diapers at home were just as noisy, but they were thicker. He felt more secure with more padding. He’d also feel more secure if Ro would just promise him… Sharp pain shot through his stump, cutting off his train of thought. He gasped. In that lightning strike of pain, he almost felt his missing leg and foot. Phantom sensations from raw, damaged nerves. He squeezed his eyes shut, hands fisting in the blanket.
He was never going to get used to this. Not even his diapers could comfort him. His bedwetting and frequent accidents when he couldn’t get to a toilet fast enough were sources of shame. Diapers had always comforted him; made him feel safe, secure and protected. They boosted his confidence. He did lose some modeling gigs due to his incontinence issues. Pullups and diapers kept his pants and bedding dry. Pullups were quiet and discreet, even if they leaked sooner than a thick, thirsty diaper.
At his quiet gasp, Ro instantly whirled and rushed to his bedside. She held one of his hands while her other hand touched his forehead. “What hurts? Where? Baby, do you want me to get a nurse?” She gingerly squeezed his slender fingers. Her concern poured over him in waves, reassuring him she still cared despite trying to ignore him. Ignore the important question he’d asked her. The promise he wanted her to make. She was here today, but he wanted her here always. Not callously throwing her life away for money.
His stump still throbbed, waves of discomfort sloshing over his body. He felt tired, drained. As if the diaper change and one little movement sapped all his strength. The diaper change hadn’t been so bad; Ro had done all the work. The nurses had taught her the techniques to change him without jostling his injured limb. He could get through a diaper change with minimal problems since someone else did the lifting and moving while he stayed relatively still. When he moved the muscles on his injured leg, it felt like setting off fireworks if he moved too quick, too careless.