🛏️ Constance Medical
Part 1: Introductions
⚠️ This is a work of fiction
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Let me introduce myself, my name is Denis and I am 11 years old. Well, I'll be honest and direct, I wet the bed. Yes, it's true, at 11 years old, it's shameful! But the worst part, I believe, is not that but the fact of... wearing diapers. Obviously, I have gotten used to it since I've been wearing them for a while and it has become a habit to put one on under my pajamas before going to bed in my bed. It's just that I feel too old to be wearing them, of course. At my age, none of my friends wear them, or if they do, they hide it from others.
Other than that, everything is fine. Well, almost. I say that, but almost because at 8 years old, I had a pretty serious bacterial meningitis because I had to have my left forearm amputated. You might be wondering why I only talk about that after my bedwetting maybe? Simply because, for me, it's less important, or at least less disabling than wetting the bed and wearing diapers. It's true that bedwetting is shameful, I dare not talk about it. It prevents me from staying overnight at others' houses. I have to make excuses every time I'm invited. I've become the king of lame excuses. The main one is saying that I need treatment for my arm when it's not true. But can you imagine telling your buddy before going to bed, "Sorry, I need to step out for two minutes, I wet the bed so I need to put on a diaper." Or worse, in the morning, if the diaper has leaked and my pajamas and bed are wet!
There, I'm done feeling sorry for myself, really!
As for my amputated forearm, this physical disability is inconvenient, I won't deny that. But in fact, it doesn't prevent me from doing anything! Sure, I don't bike as well as Karim who can do 360s, or as Yaniv who competes in climbing, but I've managed to do both sports too.
I have quite a few friends in my group and we get along well, it's cool. I also have a great girlfriend, Constance, whom I met at the hospital when I was 8. She's a little younger than me because she was only 6 when I met her. Today, she's almost 10 and the height difference between us is becoming less noticeable. I say that, but she's still quite petite and the last time we saw each other, a family we crossed paths with while we were alone, talked to her as if she were a 4-year-old. That happens to me too because when you have a disability, people talk to us as if we were dumb, no matter what we have.
Constance and I don't live nearby and we don't see each other often. Our parents became friends when I was in the hospital. I was there because of my meningitis and Constance was there because she had a car accident. She wasn't an amputee like me, but she limps. We're quite a pair when we're together. The last time we saw each other was about 6 months ago. We met up for a day in a city halfway between our two homes. It was really nice.
But I haven't even talked about my parents. My father's name is Alan and my mother is Karen. Very American names, right? Well, that's because they were born there, they met there! They moved to France and had me here, hence the typically French name I carry: Denis.
To talk a bit more about family, I have very few relatives, at least that I know. I have two uncles but they're both in the United States. I saw one of them once when he came on vacation to France with his two sons. That was two years ago and I don't have a very good memory of it because his two sons made fun of me! Of my disability already, but worse, of the fact that I wore diapers.
And to go back to Constance, we're supposed to see each other soon. It was decided last time we saw each other that I would go to their house for a week. It's coming up soon because my parents are dropping me off at their place in three days. They're going on a week-long honeymoon, which they had never done before, and I'm staying at Constance's house during that time. She knows I wet the bed so it doesn't bother me at all because she does too! That's another thing that brings us together besides our physical disability. She handles it better than I do.
Mom even explained to me that her parents work at a medical equipment store. And in that store, they sell, among other things... diapers. I mention this because Mom told me that I should take advantage of my stay at their place to find a different model than the one I currently wear. It's true that the ones I wear are a bit small now, and sometimes they even leak. But it's a bit embarrassing for me to ask Constance's parents to find me new diapers. It's lucky that Constance wears them too. I don't think I would have wanted to go to her house if she didn't wear them too.
The diapers I wear right now are pull-ups that my parents buy at the supermarket. Again, I don't feel great when I have to go with them to do groceries and there's a pack of diapers in the cart. I'm always scared that we'll run into a classmate, one of my teachers, or a friend from an extracurricular activity. Imagine if that person sees the pack and realizes it's for me...
Okay, enough talking now. Mom has called me twice to go take a shower and put on my pajamas. She wants us to start packing my suitcase. It's Wednesday and we're leaving for Constance's on Friday. My parents are spending a night at their place and leaving in the morning for the airport.
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