PeculiarChangeling
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The Potty Draining Chart - Day 9
🕑 Added 2023-09-15 04:21:46 +0000 UTC“V?”
Vanessa blinked awake, bleary eyed and thoughts still thick from dreamland. “Huh?”
“V!”
The voice came from outside her room, echoing across the hall. Vanessa sat up, wiping at her eyes to clear away sleepiness. She hadn’t set her alarm–she was off work that morning and typically slept in late when she could–so the early awakening surprised her.
“Vanessa! Help!”
That, she couldn’t ignore. Toppling out of bed, Vanessa scrambled to her roommate’s rescue. Throwing open the door to Nicole’s nursery, she saw her friend on the verge of tears. Her best friend’s diaper clearly needed changing from how it drooped and the smell that saturated her room, but it didn’t seem like that was the source of her distress–she was holding onto the bars of her crib like a prisoner begging for release.
“What’s wrong, Nic?” Vanessa asked, walking over. “What changed?”
“I can’t–” Nicole sniffed, wiping at her sniffling nose with her arm. A little snot came away, she didn’t seem to notice. “I can’ get da bars open, the latch is stuck. I’m trapped!”
Vanessa stepped back, reaching out and pressing the latch. The crib opened normally, side gate swinging out so Nicole could leave. “It–nothing happened,” she said. “The latch works fine.”
“It didn’t!” Nicole snapped, her teary eyes turning a little more red. “It wouldn’–why didn’ it work for me?”
“You were probably just stressed and fumbling,” Vanessa said, excusing the issue for the moment. “Do you need help getting ready for work?”
“No.” Nicole shook her head, looking rattled from the brief captivity. “I can’ do it myself. I wan’a do it myself.”
With her roommate’s lisp, Vanessa wasn’t sure if Nicole had really said, ‘I can’, or if she’d actually admitted the truth–’I can’t’. Either way, she shrugged, she wasn’t going to argue with Nicole while she was this flustered. “Ok. Let me know if you change your mind.”
Turning, she walked out of the room, pausing to glance at the new doodle on the chart. Storm clouds, day and night. No surprise there, Nicole’s potty training was long gone at this point. Below them, though, was a doodle of Nicole–sitting in a diaper, smudged and dirty, stink lines wafting off her. She was holding a square block in her hand, looking at a box with several differently-shaped holes, as though uncertain what she was supposed to do next–and to really emphasize things, a big question mark floated over her head.
Vanessa didn’t try to guess what that meant. She thought she already knew.
…
Eighteen minutes.
The bus schedule worked out in such a way that, if Nicole missed her bus, she would be eighteen minutes late. It’d only ever happened once before, in the whole time she’d been employed at her job.
Or, twice now, because even changing her diaper as quickly as possible, slapping down the tapes and rushing out the door without even eating breakfast, she’d still missed her bus. Being stuck in her crib had cost her too much time, and there just wasn’t a fast way to clean up a poopy diaper.
She’d made it in, though, and made it to her desk. She’d make it through another day. If anyone asked, it’d just been a rough night and she overslept, no need to explain that she’d been late because she had to change her diaper after being stuck inside her crib.
(But nobody will notice. Right?)
Nicole told herself that lie through the morning work, handling problems that’d come up overnight and generally keeping herself busy. As long as she had a job to do, she didn’t need to think about what was happening to her…even if she kept making typos and had to refill her coffee three times because she kept knocking it over–at least she had that one solace, caffeine, to keep her going when it felt overwhelming.
Just after lunch, her facade shattered.
She didn’t even make it back to her desk before her boss intercepted her, speaking five words that sent Nicole’s anxiety into a spiral. “See me in my office.”
Nicole followed, she had no good excuse to delay. Jean shut the door behind her, walking over to her desk. Uncertain and afraid, Nicole just stood there.
“We need to talk about your performance,” Jean said. “Nicole–I’ll be frank. Your work has been slipping horribly. You’re distracted, you came in late today, you’re clearly avoiding letting anyone see you while you work, and–”
Her nose wrinkled, and she paused. Nicole flushed pink, raising her hands to cover her mouth.
“Nicole…” Jean said, shaking her head in a gesture resembling maternal disappointment. “Please tell me you didn’t forget to change your diaper during your lunch break.”
(No,) Nicole thought. (No, no, no…) “I’m not wearin’ diapees!” she exclaimed, shaking her head in mortified terror, as though the lie would hide anything. A moment later, a worse realization struck her–she’d just called them, ‘Diapees’ in front of her boss. (Nononono–)
“I don’t have any issue with whatever medical condition you’re dealing with,” Jean said. “Incontinence isn’t something that I would judge you for, and neither is a lisp–and please don’t feel the need to lie. Once I realized you weren’t sneaking off to the bathroom to use your phone, that cleared a lot up for me. I had hoped that installing the changing table and bin in the women’s room would be helpful for you, too, and show that we didn’t have any issues with your new needs.”
Face turning redder and redder, Nicole’s worldview collapsed. She hadn’t been stealthy at all–everyone had known. Jean had known. They’d just been too polite to say anything.
“But,” Jean continued. “I expect basic hygiene from my employees. A medical condition doesn’t excuse you from being a nuisance and distraction around the office.”
Nicole shook her head, taking a step back. (They all–they all know.)
“And I have a functioning nose–You had already soiled yourself by eleven this morning, when I came by to get your TPS reports, and I can tell you still haven’t bothered to get changed. I don’t believe for one second that you didn’t notice, and that is unacceptable.” Her tone wasn’t cruel or mocking–Jean spoke professionally, not trying to belittle Nicole at all. It was a simple statement of fact; Nicole was too helpless to be treated as an adult.
Because Jean was wrong about one thing: Nicole genuinely, truly hadn’t noticed her accident.
“I–” she stammered. “I’ll–I’m going to go get changies.”
“Do that,” Jean said, “and then go home for the day. I expect better from you tomorrow.”
Nicole’s whole body was shaking as she staggered into the bathroom. She got herself changed–barely. The tapes didn’t seem to stick right, and even after using a dozen wipes, she still never felt clean.
It was all she could do before wandering outside, trembling, to wait for a bus ride to get home.
…
Vanessa came home to find her roommate on the couch. She’d only been out for a few hours, and hadn’t expected Nicole home until well after five, which told her a few things. She’d been sent home, or she’d left early, or she’d been fired. Either way, Nicole was having a bad day.
“You okay?” Vanessa asked, walking over to sit by her friend.
“They know,” Nicole said.
Vanessa swallowed, though she could guess. “Who?”
Nicole wiped her nose, and just like that morning, didn’t seem aware of the mess she was making of herself. “Everyone. Heck, they know more than I do–I…I…I made poo–” Catching herself, she focused on her words, trying to phrase things in a dignified way. “I used my diaper for number two, and I didn’t even notice. For hours. I had lunch in the break room around everyone.”
“Oh…” Vanessa said, reaching down to give Nicole’s hand a squeeze. “Hey, Nicole. Come here, it’s okay, I’m here, I can...”
She felt wetness.
Glancing down, she saw that Nicole’s jeans had identical crescent-shaped wet stains on them, as well as a few trickles that ran deeply down the denim. Nicole’s gaze followed V’s, and when she saw the leaks, her eyes went huge.
“Oh no–” Nicole leapt to her feet, reaching down, struggling with the button. It was as though if she got the pants off, it would somehow reset time and prevent the leak from having ever happened. In her panic and uncertainty, though, the button wouldn’t budge. She fumbled, fingers slipping over it, growing more and more desperate by the second.
“Nicole, shhh,” Vanessa said, standing and reaching to touch Nicole’s hand again. “Please, let me help?”
Nicole sniffed, but nodded, pulling her hands away. Vanessa undid the button, pulled the zip, and slipped Nicole’s jeans away, revealing the diaper beneath.
She’d expected to see something sodden and soaked, but in fact it was pretty dry–the shapes on the front had distorted a little, but weren’t faded. The leak hadn’t come from overuse, but from bad application–the tapes on one side were all crooked, and on the other, one hadn’t been stuck down at all.
“Nicole,” Vanessa said, quietly. “You put this on all wrong, it’s not going to help like this.”
Sniffling, her tears threatening to turn into a full sob, Nicole said, “I know. I know, and I can’t…”
“Do you want me to help you?” Vanessa asked, squeezing her friend’s hand.
Nicole nodded. Pulling her hand, Vanessa led her friend to the nursery. She didn’t try to speed things along, only offering gentle guidance and support. She didn’t want to make this feel weird, or condescending–she was just offering comfort to a friend.
Sliding her hands under Nicole’s armpits, Vanessa gave her friend a boost and got her up onto the changing table, where she laid back, making her diaper accessible.
“I think we can still use this diaper,” Vanessa said. “It’s barely damp.”
Nicole nodded, while Vanessa undid the tapes, looking for what she suspected to find. Sure enough–Nicole’s bottom was dirty. Not filthy from an accident, but she looked like she hadn’t really wiped up during her last change, she was in desperate need of a good cleaning.
So, Nicole took wipes from the warmer and got to work. She started on the upper thighs, gently working her way down, doing her best so that her sweet friend wouldn’t get a rash or just feel gross down there.
Nicole crossed her arms over her chest, cheeks puffed out in resigned embarrassment.
Noticing a bit of redness, Vanessa paused. “Hey, Nic? It looks like you’re starting to get a rash. Is it OK if I put some cream on you to help with that?”
Hesitating, Nicole thought about it, seemingly reassured by Vanessa’s simple question. She’d asked, because no matter what was happening to her, Nicole still deserved to be in charge of her body.
“Yes…yes, pwease,” she mumbled, nodding.
Vanessa smiled, reaching for the cream. “Of course.” She rubbed it in tenderly, and finished it off with a sprinkle of baby powder to keep everything dry and irritation-free.
“Thanks, V,” Nicole said, slowly, forming her words carefully. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
“Me too,” Vanessa said, taping the diaper back up. “Me too.”
