Synopsis: Eric thinks he's going into hospital for his tonsils to be removed, but ends up at a school clinic rather than the hospital. There all the children wear nappies to make life easier for the nurses and to stop wet beds. Eric is made to wet and soil his nappies and is treated like a baby by the nurses. He becomes very ill with an infection and stays in the clinic for much longer than normal. By the time he's well enough to go home, he has no control over his bladder and wets continuously without realising it, and loves every minute of it! His parents are just glad their son is alive and aren't worried if he has to wear nappies at home.

 

The Babying of Eric

 

Eric was just a few weeks away from his sixteenth birthday when the hospital letter came. He'd been hoping against hope that the letter would come after his sixteenth birthday as that would mean that he'd be going to the adult hospital rather than the children’s hospital where the cut-off age was sixteen years. In fact, it was the school clinic rather than the children's hospital as the school clinic had an upstairs ward where simple ENT surgery was done. That was even worse as he'd heard things about the school clinic from his friends and he hoped that they were just trying to wind him up. He'd been told that everyone, no matter how old, wore nappies all the time. He was certainly too grown up to do a babyish thing like that! Also it meant that he'd be in hospital, or the clinic rather, over the summer holiday. It was the late fifties in England with things starting to return to normal after the end of rationing and the effects of the war.

 

Eric's mum, however, was pleased that the letter had come when it had as Eric wouldn't be missing any schooling. He went to the local grammar school and was staying on in the sixth form with the distinct possibility he would go to university. Financially, it would be struggle for the family, but Eric's mum and dad were so proud that their son was clever enough for university meant that they would manage somehow.

 

Came the day and Eric and his mum set off for the school clinic. She'd packed his case for him according to the school clinic's instructions and Eric was carrying it as they walked to the bus together. On the way, she impressed on him the need to do as he was told, no matter what the nurses asked him to do, reminding him that he needed this operation to remove his adenoids and tonsils as he's had so many bouts of tonsillitis. Eric kept quiet as he was far from happy about having to go to the school clinic. The thought of the operation didn't exactly fill him with enthusiasm as he'd never been in hospital before and wasn't looking forward to it. They caught the bus, alighting at the stop for the clinic. He'd not been to the school clinic before as he'd been seen by the consultant at the children's hospital. The knew that his friends had been there on the ground floor for things like verrucas and the school dental surgery was there where children who didn't have their own dentist were sent to have fillings, or more often, teeth extracted under gas when the school dentist came round and found they had decayed teeth.

 

There was quite a walk from the bus to the clinic which was a stone fronted building half way up a hill. They went in the front entrance and reported to the reception desk where they were directed upstairs to the ward. On arrival, Sister came to greet them along with a nurse who relieved Eric of the small suitcase, taking it to an empty bed where she unpacked its contents into the locker, leaving Eric's book which he'd brought to read on the top of the locker. The ward was high ceilinged with fifteen beds each side. All of the beds had cot sides and the children were lying or sitting up in bed plying with toys or reading in the case of older children. Eric blushed as he realised that this was a mixed ward and all the children were wearing hospital gowns. He could certainly see that some of the children were in nappies and rubbers as the gowns weren't pulled down around their hips. Sister took the admissions letter from Eric's mum, thanked her and informed her that she should leave now and could come back in the day after next to visit him as no visitors were allowed on the day of admission, the day of the operation, but could come the day after. Sister also checked that Eric's mum knew when to ring the clinic to find out how Eric was after his surgery.

 

Sister turned to Eric, “Right, young man, I suspect that you think you should have been at the adult hospital, but you're still fifteen and young enough to be here for your operation. While you're here, I expect you to do exactly as you're told without question as my nurses know what they'd doing and you don't! Go with the nurses to the bathroom where you will have your bath and they will get you ready for bed. Later today the doctor will come to see you to take some blood and give you a final check before your operation tomorrow morning. You're fifth on the list so it will be sometime mid-morning.” Two nurses came up to Eric and told him to follow them. They escorted him to the bathroom where he was told to remove all of his clothes. Eric took off his shoes and socks as the cold linoleum floor sent a shiver through him. He noticed a glass fronted large cupboard full of what looked like towels and rubber pants. He suspected that some of those towels might be large nappies as he hoped fervently that the rumours about all children wearing nappies was wrong. He removed his shirt and tie as well as his trousers, standing there in his clean underwear. “And your vest and pants too, Eric,” one of the nurses said. He blushed furiously as he did as he was told. One of the nurses removed his clothes and shoes to his locker while he stood there as the other nurse turned away and put on a long rubber apron which covered her from neck to just above the ankles. The other nurse returned carrying a glass bottle thing. “This is a urinal, Eric. We need a sample of urine from you to test to check you're not diabetic. Would you give us a sample now, please?” Eric blushed furiously. “In front of you?” he asked with a querulous voice. “Yes, Eric, now!” Eric held the urinal over his penis and tried very hard to do as he was told. He'd always had problems 'going' with other people around and this was so embarrassing! “Oh dear, we've got a shy bladder here,” said one nurse, as the other put on her apron. The nurse who spoke turned on the bath taps to start running the bath as the sound of flowing water often had the desired effect. Unfortunately, the more Eric tried, the harder it seemed. On of the nurses filled a jug with warm water and trickled it down Eric's bare abdomen, but that didn't work either. “Did your mum let you use the toilet before you left home, Eric?” “No, nurse,” came Eric's reply, “I really do need to go now!” “All right, Eric, this is your final chance before we have to get that sample from you. Try once more.” “But I am trying!” Eric exclaimed with a wail.

 

There was a trolley in the bathroom with a rubber mattress on it. Eric assumed that it was to take children to and from the bathroom when they couldn't walk, but, since this was an ENT ward only, he was rather wrong there! “Lie on the trolley, Eric and I'll get Sister.” The rubber mattress was really cold on Eric's back and he was now very worried about what would happen to him. Sister came a few minutes later and said, “Causing trouble already, Eric?” “Sorry, Sister, I really have been trying!” One of the nurses assured Sister that this was the case so, with a “Hmmph!”, Sister went to another cupboard and got out a paper wrapped parcel, placing it on the end of the trolley. She carefully opened up the paper, exposing a tray with items on it. Next she went to wash her hands, as did one of the nurses, and after drying them thoroughly, the put on sterile rubber gloves from the tray. The gloved nurse took a pair of forceps and a swab while the other nurse poured some antiseptic into a dish on the tray from a bottle in the bathroom cupboard. The nurse with the forceps dipped the swab in the antiseptic and, without a by-your-leave, started to swab all around Eric's penis and scrotum with the antiseptic. She put down the forceps as Sister picked up a syringe with a rounded metal tip which she had partly filled with some liquid. The gloved nurse grasped Eric's penis and pointed it up his body while Sister inserted the tip deep into Eric's penis and pressed the plunger. The cold liquid made Eric gasp and Sister followed up the syringe with a thin rubber tube which she pushed into Eric's penis. As she felt the resistance from Eric's prostate, he was told to cough. As he did so, she pushed the catheter into his bladder and the other nurse held the urinal over the open end of the catheter to collect the urine. Sister kept the catheter in place until Eric's bladder was empty. The nurse holding the urinal commented, “He really did need to go, Sister. Perhaps he'd let his bladder get too full.” “You could be right, nurse. I'll let him off this time for disobeying me!” With that, she pulled out the catheter which caused Eric to gasp as, whilst not exactly painful, wasn't very comfortable either! The tray and urinal were removed. The former to be cleaned and sent for re-sterilisation and the latter to be tested in the sluice room. “Make sure he drinks plenty to flush out his bladder as I've had to catheterise him to get the sample, nurse.” With that, Sister left and the nurse told Eric to get off the trolley and into the bath.

 

To his horror, the two nurses then proceeded to get flannels and soap to wash him. He protested that he could bath himself, but the nurses laughed, telling him that all children were bathed by the staff as ward policy and he'd better get used to it! He was sure they were getting their own back on him as he rubbed and scrubbed his anal cleft thoroughly – rather more thoroughly than necessary as he'd had a bath before coming to the school clinic. When they were satisfied that he was clean, including his hair which they washed and poured jugs of warm water from the sink over his hair to wash the soap off, one of the nurses held up a large white fluffy bath towel and invited Eric to stand so they could wrap him in it and dry him. The other nurse placed a towel on the rubber covered trolley. Both nurses towelled him dry and then he was told to get onto the trolley. There one of the nurses spread zinc and castor oil nappy rash cream all over his bottom while the other nurse went to the glass fronted cupboard to get nappies, pins and a pair of suitably sized rubber pants. Eric saw her do this and protested that he wasn't going to wear nappies. He didn't wet the bed and he certainly wasn't going to be put into nappies!

 

At that moment, Sister came in. “I expect that his young man is protesting about nappies, right, nurse?” “Yes, Sister,” one of the nurses replied, dropping Eric right into it. “Now then, young man, you just listen to me. All you older boys make trouble like this and I won't have it! Ward policy is that you are in nappies and in nappies you'll be.” Eric was about to say something, but Sister raised her hand, “Here me out. Most of the children here are potty trained and certainly don't wear nappies at home. But hospital is rather different and many children who are dry at night at home wet the bed in hospital, so it makes sense to put all children in nappies 'just in case'. It is also easier for the staff as this is a mixed ward, for children to be kept in nappies and also when you are taken to theatre and afterwards. You may well feel sick after the anaesthetic and not feel like using the toilet or a urinal. In your case, you've certainly proved that using a urinal would be difficult for you, especially if a nurse was standing over you. Your mother knows hat you'll be in nappies and has given us permission to deal with you if you are difficult. That includes the nurses holding you down while I spank you, but I hope it won't come to that. You will, however, be in nappies come what may, so do you want the easy way, or do these nurses hold you down while you're spanked?” ”I guess I'd better wear the nappies, then.” “Good boy,” Sister replied, ruffling his hair (he really hated that! It was so childish!) “Nurse, two suppositories and a large glass of Epsom Salts. That should do the trick! Don't forget to see he drinks plenty.” said Sister, with particular emphasis on the last word. “Of course, Sister,” the nurses chorused.

 

Eric decided that he'd better co-operate as he didn't fancy the consequences. He obediently raised his buttocks while a thick pile of white nappies was placed under him. Eric wasn't too happy about wearing them as some of them were stained from the constant wetting and soiling which they had been subjected to by other children, despite the clinic sending them to the local hospital to be boiled in the laundry there. One of the nurses put on a pair of rubber gloves and went to the sink and cupboard over it. She fetched out a kidney dish and some things from a packet. She put a little pot of water in the dish and came over to Eric. The other nurse lifted his legs up in the air, exposing his bottom. The first nurse dipped the glycerine suppositories in the water and inserted one after the other high into Eric's rectum. “What are you doing?” Eric called out. “You were naughty about the nappies, so Sister is making sure that you have to use your nappies. These are called suppositories and they'll make you need to go to the toilet in your nappies.” With that, his feet were lowered and the nappies pulled up tightly around him and pinned in place. Maliciously, the nurses made sure that the nappies were pulled up well between his legs to ensure that his stool would be spread well over his bottom as he forced it out when the suppositories did there work. His legs were lifted again as a pair of large rubber pants in the semitransparent yellow brown rubber were pulled over his legs and, with Eric's help as he lifted his bottom off the mattress, over his nappies. The legs and waist were tight but the actual pants themselves ballooned around his hips making him look very babyish – exactly what he'd wanted to avoid. Had he but known, he would have been given thinner nappies and better fitting pants if he'd not made the fuss, but he was to be given senna and lots of fluids to ensure that he quickly got used to wearing nappies and using them for their intended purpose.

 

After he was in his nappies, the nurses told him to stand while they tucked the nappies inside the pants to prevent leaks, then held out one of those open backed gowns for Eric to get into. The nurses had deliberately chosen a short gown so that his rubbers and nappies were clearly visible below the hem of his gown. He was escorted by the nurses to his bed, waddling as he did so because of the thickness between his legs and acutely aware of some of the other boys and especially the girls staring at his rubbers and thick nappies. The rubber pants rustled as he moved and smelled strongly of rubber, a smell he was going to be smelling a lot there. The rubber pants rubbed on his thighs making them sweat. He hated wearing them and felt as if he was just a big baby. The nurse told him to to get into bed and the cot sides raised when he'd done so. He said resignedly to the nurse raising the side, “I know, it's ward policy?” “That's right, Eric. Everyone is treated the same.” came the reply.

 

The nurses left Eric, one to start preparing another child who'd just arrived as the arrival times were printed on the letters and the times staggered to allow the nurses time to deal with each child in turn. The other nurse fetched a jug of water for Eric with a glass of orange juice. “Drink this down quickly Eric. The orange is to hide the taste. Then I want you to drink all that water by lunchtime. If it's not all gone, we'll put it in a bottle and give it to you that way and you don't want that!” Eric took the glass and drank it down. He shuddered as the taste wasn't pleasant. “What was that?” “It's a drug called Epsom Salts which is a strong laxative. Together with the suppositories which should be making you want to do your 'number two's' by now, it will make you really go potty with a vengeance. It's Sister's punishment for you for not co-operating. You'll have your nappies changed after lunch, but not before, so don't bother asking. It just won't happen.” With take, she left Eric and went to help the other nurse admit the new child who was a girl and much younger than Eric, but was going into the empty bed next to him. Eric realised that the pillow were covered in rubber with the pillow cases over the top, the mattress was covered with a rubber mackintosh sheet and there was a drawsheet under his hips consisting of another rubber sheet and a cotton sheet on top. The ward was warm and he soon found himself sweating from the rubber under him.

 

By now, he was indeed feeling uncomfortable from the suppositories which were irritating the lining of his rectum, making him want to empty his bowels into the nappies. He fought this successfully, clenching his buttocks together to stop his passing his stool. He did drink glasses of water as the nurses reminded him every time they passed his bed. Later in the morning, he heard and felt a gurgling coming from his bowels. This happened several more times. He was desperate to pass urine and thought that he'd have to use his nappies and concentrated on trying to force it out. The inevitable happened. As he forced the stream of hot urine into his nappies, the straining he was doing opened his bowels as well and warm mushy stool spread between his legs from the suppositories. His nappy was warm and wet across his front and down his sides as he'd been lying on his back at the time and felt the warmth spreading across his front and down the sides of his nappies. It wasn't as bad as he'd thought although soiling his nappies wasn't so comfortable. Suddenly he felt very strange 'down below' as his bowels suddenly opened and poured out the liquid stool produced by the Epsom Salts working their worst on him. Several times he passed stool and more stool. Still, the nurses knew a thing or two about nappies and they'd put enough on to prevent leaks.

 

The nurses brought round lunch and encouraged all those who were allowed food to sit up in their beds to eat. One cot side was lowered for the bigger children and an over-bed table swung across the bed to put the food on. Eric grimaced as sitting up forced the wet mess up between his legs and spread out across his buttocks and up between genitals and his abdomen. The brown stain on the nappies was visible through the rubbers. The food was typical hospital food: minced beef, mashed potatoes and cabbage. It was what was on offer, so he ate it, even though, as expected, the mashed potatoes were cold and lumpy. Dessert was steamed jam roly-poly with lumpy custard. After lunch was taken away, the nurses came round and drew the curtains around all the beds except Eric's. Two trolleys piled high with clean nappies and rubber pants, both clear for the boys and pink for the girls, towels and water were wheeled into the ward and the nurses started at one end working their way down the beds changing the nappies. As they finished each bed, the curtains were pulled back. From the smell which filled the ward, Eric wasn't the only one with a dirty nappy. Two nurses came to Eric with the trolley from the bathroom. “You're going to need another bath probably!” They helped Eric onto the trolley and wheeled him into the bathroom. They helped him off the trolley and into the bath where one of the nurses removed his gown while the other got rubber aprons for both the nurses and rubber gloves as well. Having donned their aprons and gloves, they slid Eric's rubbers down and the nappies hung well down under the weight of the stool and urine soaking them. They undid the pins and let the nappies fall to the bottom of the bath. Taking a shower attachment, one nurse started to shower Eric clean while the other lifted the very soiled nappies and placed them in a bucket to soak. He was thoroughly washed clean with plenty of soap and water, then dried by the two nurses. Eric was loosing his embarrassment and beginning to enjoy the attention! He was asked to get up on the trolley, on top of a clean towel, were he was carefully creamed and another thick layer of nappies and rubbers put on him. “The Epsom Salts may make you go again as you drink, but it's important to keep drinking, Eric, otherwise you may start to dehydrate.” He was found a much longer gown which came down to his knees (“Much better,” he thought!) and walked back to his bed to be penned in as the cot sides were again raised.

 

Eric did pass very watery stool again during the afternoon while the curtains were drawn and all the children were told to either lie quietly or to take an afternoon nap. Supper time brought a change of nappies for everyone with watery soup which looked as if it had been made from the boiling of the cabbage earlier (and probably was!) and cheese or ham sandwiches. Some of the children had visitors and, after visiting time was over, all the children were brought a warm milky drink, changed into thick night-time nappies and the main lights in the ward were turned out so the children could go to sleep. There was a table in the middle of the ward where the three nurses on duty sat doing paperwork or knitting by the light of a small lamp on the table. Eric woke a couple of times in the night, disorientated by being in a strange bed, or the nurses going to quieten a child who was crying for reasons of homesickness or whatever. At six o'clock, all the children going to theatre were brought a final glass of water to drink which had to be drunk down then and there. One by one, these children were taken to the bathroom for a bath in the order they were being operated on and really thick nappies applied so that their legs were spread apart like a frog from the thicknesses between their legs. While they were in the bathroom, their beds were made with clean sheets so that they were clean for theatre. The children came back on the trolley without gowns on and were placed in bed and covered up. Eric had, in fact, wet his nappies twice during the night as he'd been drinking the plenty that the nurses insisted he drank. He'd have got up at home to go to the toilet, but with the cot sides and strict instructions to use his nappies properly, he'd wet them to decide that the feeling of wet terry towelling around his hips wasn't as bad as he'd thought. Yes, he felt babyish having wet his nappies, but it was a strangely nice feeling. His thighs were warm and sweaty from contact with the rubbers between his legs and that felt nice as well.

 

When Eric's turn came, he discovered that rather more was done to the children which explained why the process seemed to take longer than he thought. In fact it was nine o'clock and the first two children had been taken down the end of the ward to the theatre area before the nurses got to him. Other nurses had already taken round breakfast to those allowed to eat and were bed making, washing children and nappy changing. The two nurses on bathroom duty had brought back the little girl in the bed next to Eric through the curtains which had been drawn around her bed. Eric was told to get on the towel on the trolley to be wheeled into the bathroom. He saw a metal stand with a white enamelled can hung from it and a length of rubber tubing ending in a black nozzle. There he was told to lie on his left side with his knees drawn up. His rubbers and nappies were pulled down his buttocks, exposing his anus and a probing gloved finger of one of the nurses suddenly entered his back passage. This was followed by the black nozzle as the nurse explained that she was going to put some hot soapy water inside him to empty his bowels. There was a click as the clamp was released and Eric could feel the hot water filling him. The nurse injected it slowly so he didn't get any cramps, but, after he'd taken the full two pints of hot soapy water, the nurse encouraged him to clench his bottom on the nozzle to hold it in for five minutes. After the five minutes was up, she asked Eric to keep on gripping as she removed the nozzle. Her partner pulled his nappies and rubbers back over his hips quickly in case he released it too soon. He was encouraged to kneel on the trolley with his knees wide apart and to sit on his heels, leaning forward. The nurses supported him one each side and asked him to push the water out of him into his nappies. The feeling was weird but so enjoyable! As Eric had taken so much of the enema, his nappies were saturated, but the night time rubbers were large and ballooned around his hips as well as biting into his thighs and waist to prevent leaks. The rubbers started to bulge as the watery mess filled them as well as the nappies so that the rubber hung down between his legs with the hot soapy water, leaving the nappies holding back his stools. He also passed urine involuntarily at the same time. The nurses put an arm under each armpit once he assured them that he'd finished and lifted him into the bath where the stripped off his rubbers and saturated nappies, allowing the overflow to pour down his legs into the bath as they did so. One nurse removed the rubber pants and saturated nappies and the other started to wash down Eric and swill out the bath. Between them, the nurses washed him from head to foot. One dried him while the other washed over the rubber mattress of the trolley and put a clean draw sheet for Eric to lie on as he was the last on the list that day. Eric climbed onto the trolley as the nurses pinned a very thick layer of nappies forcing his legs apart and another pair of the rubber pants which fitted so well around thighs and waist, but provided space for the thick layers of nappies wrapped around Eric's bottom. One of the nurses put a green rubber shower cap over Eric's freshly dried hair. “That's to keep your hair clean if you're sick after the anaesthetic which can happen with some children,” the nurse said to him. The other invited him to hold out his arms whilst she fed his arms through a green rubber sleeved garment rather like a baby's coverall for a messy feeder, but without the catch-all pocket for crumbs and the like. The garment tied around his neck and down his back to his waist with puffed sleeves stretching down to his elbows. He shivered at the cold rubber and noticed the strong rubber smell given off by these soft rubber garments. He was used to the rubber smell from the mackintoshes on the bed, but, for the rest of his life, the smell of that sort of latex rubber would always be associated with that day.

 

One of the nurses fetched a glass with pink liquid in from the side of the bathroom and a kidney dish. “We need you to rinse your mouth out with this antiseptic mouthwash, please, Eric. Take a mouthful, swill it round your mouth and teeth, then spit it out into the dish. Please don't swallow it! It's not poisonous, but it won't taste nice and won't exactly do you any good!” Eric did as he was told and realised that the pink stuff tasted exactly like the mouthwash from the dentist last time he'd had a filling in a milk tooth about three years before. “Lie down now, please, Eric. I'm going to give you an injection into your leg which may sting a bit. If you wriggle your toes as i put the needle in, and inject the liquid, it does help,” one of the nurses said to him. “What is it, please, nurse?” Eric asked politely. “It's a drug to make your mouth dry called atropine which may make your eyes go a bit blurred and morphine to make you drowsy so you won't be worried about your operation. All right, Eric?” Eric agreed that it was all right by him as he reckoned, correctly, that if he'd refused, they'd have just got more nurses and held him down until he'd had the injection. The nurse swabbed his thigh with alcohol then plunged the needle into his leg as Eric wriggled his toes as instructed. It didn't sting – it hurt as she injected the mixture into his muscle, having first pulled back the plunger to check that the needle hadn't gone into a vein. When all this was done, he was wheeled back to his bed with his back, chest and upper arms already wet with perspiration from the rubber garment enclosing him. His thighs likewise were wet from contact with the outside of the rubber pants as they covered the thick layer of nappies. Inside that layer of nappies, his hips and abdomen were warm from the insulating layer of dry nappies. Slowly his eyes began to drift out of focus as his pupils dilated, his mouth dried up and he began to feel sleepy from the effects of the morphine.

 

Just as he was beginning to find the drowsiness pleasant, the curtains were pulled apart at the end of the bed as well as between Eric's bed and the little girl in the next bed by one of the nurses and a trolley was wheeled between the beds by a porter. Eric looked at the little girl dressed in her green rubber bib, shower cap and pink rubber pants, thinking how silly she looked which meant that he must look silly and childish too. The little girl was lifted into a sitting position on the trolley as one of the nurses shushed her as she started to cry. Eric was likewise lifted onto the trolley with her as the sides were pulled up to stop them falling off and blankets were put round them both to keep them warm. “You're both going to theatre now!” said the nurse as they were wheeled towards the opposite end of the ward from the main entrance. The trolley was pushed through the double doors at the end and down a short corridor. There was an entrance to the operating theatre with a red light over the door, illuminated, which, as Eric read the sign which fortunately was in large letters as he squinted to read it, said, “Theatre in use when red light is on. Positively no admittance!” Next to that was another door into which they were wheeled. A nurse was sitting there in theatre greens with mask and cap over her hair. The little girl was lifted off first and sat in the nurse's lap as she cuddled her. The nurse reached to a container and picked out a rubber dummy or pacifier and put it between the girl's lips as she sucked frantically on it for comfort. Eric was lifted onto a chair covered by a green sheet and was instructed to stay sat there. He was feeling extremely nervous and eyed the little girl and the nurse as if he'd like a cuddle too. He knew he was too big for that sort of thing, but he was feeling extremely nervous and really wouldn't have minded. As if she knew what was passing through his head, the nurse smiled at Eric. “It won't be too long, pet, before you're in and it will be over before you know it!” The little girl was crying and another 'nurse' came in with an anaesthetic trolley. The girl's name was Susan. The 'nurse' spoke to Susan and Eric, “Would you like me to show you what's going to happen to you in the theatre when they put you to sleep?” Susan mumbled through her pacifier that she didn't really want to as she wanted to go home. “But Susan, you've been having all those nasty sore throats, haven't you? We're going to make them all gone so you won't have any more! Let me show you.” She showed Susan, making sure that Eric could see, the mask to put over Susan's face, the black corrugated snake-like rubber tubing connecting the mask to the machine, the cylinders of nitrous oxide and oxygen, the rubber bag which would inflate and deflate as she breathed and the bottles of special 'sleepy liquid' “to help you to go to sleep in the middle of the day, Susan. Would you like to try the mask to see if it fits and I'll give you some special 'air' to breathe.” The nurse holding Susan removed the pacifier from her mouth as the mask was held out for Susan to take. Susan tentatively held the mask up to her face and then took it away. “It smells funny!” “That's the special 'sleepy liquid' which makes the mask and tubing smell, Susan. Don't worry about that. Just hold it to your face and see if if fits. Take some breathes of the special 'air' which, I promise, won't make you go to sleep!” Susan held the rubber mask to her face as the 'nurse' turned the oxygen on. “Look at the bag go up and down! Can you blow up the bag like a balloon, Susan? Susan took bigger and bigger breathes as she giggled as the bag blew up larger and larger each time. She didn't notice the nurse turn on the nitrous oxide then the ether as the nurse holding Susan helped her to hold the mask over her face. Susan started to struggle feebly, but the 'nurse' started squeezing the black rubber breathing bag to force more gas and anaesthetic into her lungs. Soon Susan had flopped in the nurse's arms as the anaesthetist called of the trolley to take her next door into the theatre. She smiled at Eric, “No, I'm the anaesthetist, not a nurse! I'll come to you when we've finished with Susan!”

 

When Susan had been taken into theatre, leaving Eric with the theatre nurse who had cuddled Susan, she spoke to Eric. “This is your first time, isn't it, Eric?” Eric admitted that it was. “That trick won't work on you now you've seen it, will it?” she laughed. “Anyway, you're probably too grown up to fall for a trick like that.” “It wasn't fair, tricking her like that!” Eric exclaimed. “It's better than frightening her, isn't it? She drifted off to sleep quite smoothly, didn't she?” Eric had to admit that, perhaps, she did. “You're worried, aren't you, pet?” she asked. Eric admitted that he was. “You look as if you could do with a cuddle too?” “I'm too old for that!” Eric replied, none too sure of whether his answer was really the one he wanted to give. “No-one's too old for a cuddle, Eric.” With that, she went over to him, lifted him into her arms and went back to her seat, cuddling him firmly to her breast and rocking him gently. “That's not so bad, is it?” She asked. Eric shook his head to agree that it wasn't. “Open wide!” she said, as she fished a large pacifier out of her bin beside her. She's popped it in Eric's mouth which he'd obediently opened before he realised what she intended to do. He was about to spit it out in protest when she held it there and pointed out to him that it had a very large guard over his lips because it was designed for big boys who thought they were too big for pacifiers. Eric sucked at it as his nerves took the better of him. The nurse was used to frightened 'big boys' who really needed a bit of mothering. She enjoyed her job and loved her work with the children.

 

About twenty minutes later, the anaesthetist came back, wheeling the anaesthetic machine. “I won't catch you out that way, will I, Eric?” she asked. “No, miss,” he replied. “I bet you wish it would, don't you?” she asked. “Yes,” came the quiet reply. “Are you frightened by this, Eric?” “Yes, miss. I've never had this done before and, yes, I am frightened.” As he said this, he involuntarily released a stream of urine into his nappy which the anaesthetist noticed as the front of his rubbers became steamed up with his hot urine. “We could sort of pretend that you've not seen it before, couldn't we, and nurse could go on holding you while you go to sleep? How about that?” “Yes, please!” came back the more confident reply. “We need to do this rather differently, Eric, as you're rather bigger than Susan. Would you lie on your back across the nurse's lap for me?” As both the nurse and the anaesthetist helped him, Eric shuffled into position with his head hanging over the nurse's lap, as she put her arms around him. “Good boy!” said the anaesthetist. “I'm going to put some straps round your head to hold the mask in place first. The mask won't be connected to the tubing yet.” She attached some black rubber straps to the mask after she'd disconnected the tubing. She held the mask against Eric's face and pulled them over the top of his shower cap so his cap was held tightly against the back of his head as the mask pushed against the front. Eric saw what Susan had meant by the smell of the anaesthetic lingering in the mask, almost, but not quite, hiding the rubber smell of the mask. She turned on the oxygen and told Eric that that was what it was. She connected the tubing to the mask and Eric watched as he too blew the bag into a big balloon. “That's the stuff, Eric. I'm going to turn some more gas on more and you may begin to get a bit sleepy.” She turned the nitrous oxide on to about 70% nitrous and 30% oxygen. Eric found that he was getting drowsy. He could hear the blood rushing through his ears as he tried to watch her closely through ever closing eyes. “It's time, Eric,” she said as she moved the ether control to fully open. The strong smell of the ether caught in Eric's throat and, as it did so, she started massaging the bag, making him take really deep breaths. He couldn't see and all he could hear was the blood rushing through his ears, louder and louder as he had the sensation of falling down a deep black tunnel. The anaesthetist continued to massage the bag as Eric breathed in and out, squeezing the bag hard as he breathed in to force more into his lungs and letting go as he breathed out and the bag refilled again. Eric's head flopped back of the nurse's knee as he was lifted onto the trolley and taken into the theatre. “The bigger they are, the more frightened!” said the anaesthetist to the nurse. “I know: the poor boy was terrified.

 

Eric found he was lying on his side with someone shaking him and telling him to wake up. He didn't want to as his throat was sore, but the person was insistent. “Wake up, Eric, you're back on the ward and it's all over,” came the voice. “How can it be,” thought Eric to himself, “I've only just gone to sleep!” As he woke up, he realised that his nappy was wetter than it had been so he must have been asleep for some time. He opened his eyes to see one of the nurses smiling at him. “How do you feel, pet?” “My throat's sore,” Eric managed to whisper to her. “I'm afraid it will be for a while. Do you feel sick at all?” “No nurse,” came Eric's reply. “That's good. Sometimes the anaesthetic makes children feel sick afterwards. If you don't feel sick, you can try some sips of water.” The nurse helped Eric to sit up a bit and pulled the bed's backrest out to prop him up. He still had the curtains round his bed, but the nurse pulled them back. He realised that the rubber shower cap and the bib thing had been taken off him and he was back in a gown. The sip of water helped his throat a bit. As it didn't seem to be making him feel sick, he was allowed another one. The nurse told him, “That's do for the moment, Eric. We don't want to push our luck with you. I'll be back in a bit to give you some more. If you manage that all right, you can drink as much as you like.”

 

She came back later as Eric assured her that he wasn't feeling sick at all. She gave him a glass and jug of water and told him to drink as much as he wanted as he did need to drink if he could. He was also told that, as he wasn't feeling sick, he could have a nappy change when he wanted. “I'm all right at the moment, nurse,” Eric told her as he was beginning to like and get used to being in wet nappies. Eric was changed by the nurse later as she'd looked at his nappies and decided that they wouldn't hold much more. Eric settled into the ward routine of nappy changes and, initially, ice cream to ease his sore throat, and to slip down easily. His mother and father came to see him the next day and, fortunately to save Eric's embarrassment, didn't mention nappies to him.

 

The following morning, Eric woke, wet again but this time without being aware he'd wet himself during the night. He had a headache and felt 'out of sorts', telling the nurse that when she asked how he was as she did the TPR round. When she took Eric's temperature, it was 100.4 deg. F and he felt hot and sweaty to the touch. She reported to Sister who, in turn, informed the doctor when he came over from the children's hospital to do the ward round. By then his temperature was 103 deg F and he was getting rigor. “I think we're better put this old boy here on some penicillin, Sister. I agree that it looks like he's got an infection. If his temperature's still up tomorrow, we'll have him back in theatre to clean where we removed his tonsils. There is rather a lot of pus there so, if we remove it, there won't be so much work for the penicillin. I suggest that you move him to the side room as you'll have to sponge him down if his temperature gets any higher than it is now. Try to keep him drinking. If he gets much worse, we'll have to move him to the hospital, but the move could cause as many problems as leaving him here, so we'll wait and see.”

 

Eric was moved to the side room where all the covers were stripped off him and a nurse sat with him, taking his temperature regularly. When it went up to just over 104 deg F, the nurse informed Sister and she was joined by another nurse who placed a mackintosh sheet covered by a towel under Eric and proceeded to sponge him down. Eric was very poorly by now so the nurse sitting with him would sit on the bed with Eric lying across her knees and give him drinks of water from a baby bottle. Eric was too far out of it to care about his dignity. The cold water made his throat feel better, so he sucked up the water hungrily. Once an hour, he was tepid sponged and his temperature carefully monitored. He wasn't keen on the intramuscular injections of penicillin as his legs got bruised from the injections and were sore. He was plied with bottle after bottle of water to keep him hydrated and his kidneys working properly. By now, he was wetting his nappies without realising, and the nurse changed him regularly, washing and creaming him to prevent nappy rash. He tended to lie on his back with his legs spread as if he was doing breast stroke as the thick terry towelling nappies forced his legs apart.

 

The next day, Eric’s temperature was still high so the doctor decided that he'd ask the consultant to come that afternoon with his team of theatre nurses and anaesthetist to clean the pus from Eric's wounds in his throat. The nurse gave him one large final bottle of water so that he'd be 'nil by mouth' for long enough before his anaesthetic. Just before what would have been lunchtime, if Eric had been eating, another nurse came in pushing a trolley with enema can, tubing, lubricant and clean towels. Eric had a pile of suitably sized nappies and rubbers in his side room ready for his nappy changes already. He was already lying on a mackintosh over the bed with towels on it for his sponging, so he was just rolled onto his side with his rubbers and nappies pulled down far enough for the enema nozzle to be inserted. A well lubricated finger dilated his anal sphincter with the nozzle shortly following. This was a wider nozzle with a taper out behind the tip which then tapered back to a flange which was seated against his perineal area. This time one of the nurses held the nozzle in place while the other slowly raised the enema can to let the hot water flow into him. This time he only got one and a half pints and the nozzle was removed immediately with his rubbers and nappies pulled back up. The nurses waited until Eric had expelled the water with little else as he hadn't been eating much before his infection. He was stripped and given a bed bath, although the tepid sponging had left him pretty clean anyway. He was put in a thick layer of clean nappies, rubbers and the bib and shower cap put on him. He received another injection of atropine and morphine to dry up his secretions and to calm him down, although that wasn't necessary this time.

 

The trolley came to take him to theatre and, as he was the only patient on the list, he was wheeled straight into the operating theatre. There he was lifted onto the table. Eric was dazzled by the large overhead lights shining down on him which, together with the out-of-focus eyes caused by the atropine, preventing him form seeing too clearly the rest of the theatre. He was aware of figures dressed in green with masks and caps moving around, but he felt he'd rather not see the rest of the theatre. He did see the anaesthetic machine beside him. It was the same anaesthetist as before who had her mask down and smiled at Eric. “Hallo, Eric. I'm sorry you're back here again. I'm going to put this roll under your neck to tip your head back, then I'm going to hold the mask over your face. I'll give you oxygen to breathe first like last time, then I'll put you to sleep.” Eric said that it was all right by him, so she put the rubber roll under Eric's neck so that his head was turned back toward her, opening his airway. Next she turned on the oxygen and picked up the black rubber mask with its inflatable rim. She was seated on a stool just behind Eric's head with the anaesthetic machine beside her. She held it over Eric's nose and mouth, pressing it down firmly to get a good seal and curling her fingers under his jaw to both pull his jaw forward and to hold the mask in place. Eric could see the black rubber bag inflating and deflating as he breathed. She reached over to the machine and added nitrous oxide followed immediately by turning the ether on full. Eric struggled against the anaesthetic as the ether caught in his throat, but she massaged the bag to push the ether into him, telling him to try to take deep breaths so that he would be asleep quicker. As Eric struggled as the anaesthetic took him down the path to unconsciousness, he was aware that his bladder had let go and felt the warmth of the urine soaking into his nappies. That was the last he remembered before being woken up back in his side room.

 

This time he still had the rubber bib and shower cap on as he lay on his side since he'd been sick obviously by the taste in his mouth and the kidney dish which held the bloody vomit. He retched again and more bloody bile came up out of his mouth. The nurse who was holding the dish immediately wiped his mouth for him and then, with another cloth, wiped his forehead which he found helped. “The surgeon cut away some infected area and a little bit of tonsil which was missed the first time. Normally that wouldn't matter, but it was infected. The blood got into your stomach and that, with the anaesthetic as you were under much longer this time, has made you sick. You'll soon be over it though, pet,” she said, wiping the sweat away form his forehead again. “Your nappies are quite wet, but we won’t change them until you're not feeling sick any more.”

 

Eric was in pain from the additional surgery and was kept sedated with morphine as well as the regular injections of penicillin. He was nursed in the side room with nurses bottle- feeding him with water and liquid feeds to nourish him and to keep him hydrated. He was aware of their ministrations as they changed his nappies and gave him bed baths. They also washed his face for him to keep him feeling fresh. The nurses, even that Sister who ordered up the Epsom Salts as a punishment for him on admission, became fond of Eric as, despite his illness, he didn't moan or grumble and, even through the morphine fog, managed to say 'please' and thank-you' to the nurses as they cared for him.

 

After ten days, Eric's temperature returned to normal so he was transferred back to the main part of the ward. He still received the injections of penicillin for the infection to make sure that it was dealt with completely, but the morphine stopped. He was allowed to drink from a beaker instead of a bottle and, to his surprise, he found that he regretted that. He had been treated very much like a helpless baby with the washing, nappy changing and bottle feeds: frankly, he really missed it. He never thought that he'd ever like being babied as he'd thought, on admission, that he was too grown up for things like that. He still received bed baths as he was very weak from the infection, but, one day, he was put on the bathroom trolley and lifted into the bath where two nurses bathed and dried him. It was a wonderful feeling to be cared for like that. He suddenly realised too that his nappies became wet without any conscious effort on his part: when his bladder started to get partly full, it emptied by itself, so he was behaving like a baby and really needing those nappies. He realised why the school clinic put children into nappies, or thought that he did.

 

He was started again on solid food with the inevitable results. The morphine caused him to be very constipated. Sister came over to him two mornings after he'd been back on a full diet. “You've not had a bowel movement since your first surgery, Eric, so we need to do something about that. We can give you and enema or a laxative.” She looked at Eric's face, “Or we could give you both, just to make sure!” “That does seem sensible,” said Eric with a smile, “After all, I haven't been for some time and I must be very constipated.” Sister turned to the nurse with her, “Give Eric a good 3H enema,” turning to Eric, Sister explained, “That's high, hot and a hell of a lot!” She turned back to the nurse, “Then a big dose of laxative to follow. I think castor oil this time, chilled in orange juice. It doesn't taste pleasant, but it should have the desired effect!” The nurse went into the bathroom to make the necessary preparations. She came back a few minutes later with a drip stand with the well filled enema can hanging from it together with the snake-like coils of the rubber tubing, and a trolley with a jug containing more soapy water, rubber sheet, more nappies and towels for the bed and all the other paraphernalia necessary for his enema and the laxative. She pulled the curtains round the bed and collected a colleague to help her. She helped Eric to sit up and supported him with one arm while she pinched his nose with her other hand, explaining that this was so the taste wouldn't be as bad. The other nurse offered Eric the castor oil in orange juice, telling him to drink it down in one go. The nurse had been true to Sister's instructions, as she had made it a very large dose for better effect. Eric grimaced at the oily taste as he dutifully drank it down. The castor oil glass was immediately replaced with a large glass of orange juice which Eric also drank quickly to was away the oily taste and a peppermint was popped into his mouth for him to suck, for which he was duly grateful. His gown was removed and the rubber sheet spread from under the top pillow down to the foot of the bed with the nurses rolling Eric from side to side to do this. Towels were placed under him and his nappies and rubber pants removed. One nurse put a folded nappy between Eric's legs in case he wet himself while they were getting him ready. He was creamed from his knees to his armpits, which rather surprised him, but he was curious and expected that all would be revealed. To his surprise, they took nappies and folded them in half and wrapped each one around the tops of his thighs. He was rolled onto his side and one nurse, rubber glove ready, penetrated his anal sphincter to both dilate and lubricate it. “Gosh, Eric, you're really bunged up solid! You really do need the laxatives and the enema!” She followed up with the nozzle from the enema tubing and taped the tubing across the small of his back to hold in in place while they finished getting him ready. Several layers of nappies were pinned, layer by layer in place around him in the normal way, followed by two nappies rapped around his hips and across the top of his legs as well as two further nappies wrapped around his waist and up to the middle of his chest.. Eric asked why the strange nappying. One nurse held up a strange garment of natural coloured semi-transparent rubber which had legs which would go from his knees to above his waist, short sleeves and a well gathered elasticated neck. “Gosh, I'll be well covered by that!, said Eric. “That's the idea, pet. The rubber garment will stop leaks and the thick layer of nappies will soak up the enema and the laxatives when they start working. We won't have to change you until you've finished and then we'll clean you up in the bath.” The nurses fed Eric's legs through the neck opening and gradually worked the garment up over him until his arms were poking through the short sleeves and the garment came around his neck. “We've only got one of these and I don't know why we've got it, but Sister suggested we used it on you so it's the first, and possibly the last, time we're using it. You should feel honoured!” Eric agreed that he did!

 

Once Eric was fully encased in nappies and rubber from knee to neck, he was rolled onto his left side and the enema started. This time he did get cramps as there was a lot of it, with the nurse topping up the can from the jug as it emptied. His abdomen began to bulge as he was filled with the very hot soapy water. When he'd taken a full three pints, which rather surprised the nurses as they didn't think he could take so much, they pulled gently on the tubing which emerged from Eric's neck and connected to the enema can. The plaster gave way as the nozzle came out of Eric's anus and slid up his back and away. “Try to hold that as long as you can: the longer you hold it, the more effective it will be.” We'll leave you in peace with the curtains drawn, but we'll pop in now and again to check you're all right. You also need to drink plenty, so I'll go and get you something to drink.” With that, the nurses left him, only for one of them to pop back a minute or two later with a drink of orange juice for him. Eric's smile turned into a big wide grin of delight as she handed him the large baby bottle and rubber teat which he immediately put between his lips and sucked gratefully. She ruffled his hair – he liked that now – and said, “You're a good lad, Eric!” He laid back sucking at the bottle, aware already that he was sweating from being wrapped in the thick layer of nappies and the overall rubber garment. He sucked away at the bottle, concentrating on holding back the enema as long as possible. He managed a full fifteen minutes before he released the enema in a series of hot bursts of soapy water and lumps of only partially softened stool which were quite painful to pass. He understood the strange way he was in nappies as he flooded his nappies with the three pints of enema and the pent-up stool from inside him. The nurses kept bringing him baby bottles of water or juice, so he flooded his nappies as he wet himself uncontrollably and frequently. He was revelling in it! Later, an ominous gurgle from his intestines and cramping pains showed that the laxative was about to do its worst. Castor oil takes no refusal: it is impossible to resist and hold back against the strong contractions which it produces, not that Eric wanted to. Time after time he emptied himself into his nappies so that, by the time the nurses came to bath and change him so he would be ready for his parents to visit him, he was soaked from knee to chest.

 

The nurses carefully lifted him onto the bathing trolley and took him to the bathroom. Both nurses were dressed in neck to ankle sleeved rubber aprons and had changed their shoes for rubber boots. There he was sat in the bath, while the rubber garment was easier over his shoulders and his arms taken out. His shoulders and arms were washed and dried, then one nurse pulled him to his feet while the other slid the garment off him to down around his ankles. She then unpinned all of the nappies and dropped them in waiting buckets beside her. He was washed from head to foot with the shower attachment and the two nurses soaping him all over. It was a happy, joyful time with the nurses. When they had finished washing him, one of the nurses sat on a chair with a towel on her lap and cuddled Eric to her while her colleague towelled his hair, head, arms and legs dry, followed by the seated nurse lowering the towel so that Eric's body could be dried too. The seated nurse swapped with the other who cuddled Eric as well. “We were worried about you for a while. You had a really bad infection and we're so glad you made it.” Eric loved the cuddling and the fuss they made over him. “Oh dear!,” the standing nurse said, “You're wetting yourself. We'd better get a nappy on you quickly before we have to mop the floor.” She quickly held the spare towel over his crotch to catch it as he emptied his bladder. When he stopped, the nurses lifted him onto the trolley and put a thick layer of nappies on Eric, followed by a large pair of rubbers. The other nurse sat down and said, “My turn!” She held out her arms and Eric was placed with his back to her and his legs astride hers. He shivered slightly as the rubber of her coverall struck cold against him. She put one arm around is chest and the other between his legs, pulling the rubbers and nappies tight between his thighs. That felt really good. The other nurse brought a bottle of orange juice and held it for Eric to drink. Eric thought this was marvellous. He didn't care that he was being babied – he loved it! How he'd changed, or regressed because of his illness and, to be fair, the babying treatment of being in nappies and rubber pants and being expected to use them to the full. One of the nurses looked at the clock and said, “We'd better get Eric back to his bed. It'll be visiting time soon.” Eric was put in a gown and taken back to his bed. How he wished they could have gone on cuddling him!

 

 

Later that evening, the Night Sister came to Eric and pulled the curtains around the bed. “Eric, I need to talk to you. You've been very ill and have been in nappies now for three weeks while you've been here. We normally only have children for four of five days at the most so they can easily regain their normal toileting. But you've been so poorly that you just wet yourself.” “Like a baby,” Eric said. “Well, yes, babies do wet themselves uncontrollably, but adults who have bladder problems do as well. Don't think for a moment that I'm blaming you. It is ward policy to put all children in nappies as it makes nursing you all easier rather than having some using nappies and others needing bedpans and urinals, and some of those wetting the bed at night because they're away from home and, let's be honest, frightened about being in hospital.” “I'm not frightened now, Sister. You're all so kind to me.” You're a good boy, Eric and it's kind of you to say that. I guess you've become somewhat of a favourite among the nurses as we don't usually get to look after anyone as long as we've all looked after you. The problem is that you need to start trying to toilet train yourself again so that you'll be dry when you go back to school. You may have problems at night for a while, but that's to be expected. What you need to start doing during the day is trying to stop yourself from wetting without realising. Your bladder may have shrunk as well as it empties before it is anywhere near full when you empty without thinking about it as you've been. You need to encourage your bladder to stretch to its normal size again. So tomorrow, as soon as you wake up, try to stop yourself from wetting. You'll take time to succeed, but you need to start trying.” “What happens if I don't succeed?” Eric asked. “The longer your bladder stays shrunk, the harder it is to retrain it at your age. If you were younger, it would be easier. You might even wet yourself for the rest of your life and you won't want that, would you?” “Definitely not, Sister!” Eric said, hoping it would sound convincing. “Good lad! Remember, start tomorrow and see how long you can keep your nappy dry. The longer the better!” With that, she patted Eric on the top of his head and pulled back the curtains before going to turn the ward lights out so that the children could settle down to sleep.

 

As Eric lay on his side, with his thumb creeping without conscious thought into his mouth, he thought to himself, “No way! I know I hated the thought of nappies, but I've realised how nice they are. I don't have to worry about going to the toilet or getting up at night. I'll see what happens if I don't try.” His other hand found its way to between his legs where he caressed the smooth rubber of the pants, feeling the warm fluffy terry towelling underneath. What a lovely feeling!

 

A couple of days later, Eric was discharged. His mother came to collect him and brought him some clothes to wear home. He was surprised when he found that his trousers were larger around his hips so that there was room for his nappies and rubber pants as his wetting hadn't got any better despite Eric assuring the nurses that he was trying his best. The doctor had, that morning, arranged for a urology consultant at the children's hospital to see Eric to try to help him regain bladder control. His mum leant close to Eric's ear, “Don't worry, love, the district nurse came yesterday to bring me some rubber sheets for your bed and a supply of nappies and rubber pants in your size until you get your bladder control back. Well, at least, if you get it back. The nappies are all brand new and white. Your rubber pants are in blue and white and transparent rubber, so you get a choice. There's all brand new as well, still covered in powder to stop them sticking together. They're really nice and soft for you. The district nurse also left me plenty of pins to make sure that I pin them on you snugly! Your dad and I are just glad you're better and able to come home again. If you can't stop wetting, then we don't mind 'cos we love you, no matter what!” Just as Eric was saying good-bye to the nurses and showing what a polite boy he was by thanking them all for his care, Sister came up with a brown paper parcel. “Here's a little something from the clinic specially for you, Eric. I've been told not to use it again as we've been instructed to start switching the bigger children out of nappies when we admit them. There's some rubber pants in your size which will be best for night time and a little surprise which you can probably guess what it might be.” “Thank you, Sister, you've all been very kind,” replied Eric as Sister ruffled his hair one last time. He could guess what the surprise was and he couldn't wait to get home to try on again that knee to neck rubber garment. The best thing about that surprise was that, when he opened the package at home, he wasn't disappointed!

 

Postscript: There really was a children's clinic which did adenoids and tonsils and strange stories emerged from children who had been there about being put back into nappies and rubbers while they were there. Unfortunately the author never had an operation there so wasn't able to check how true these rumours were. But he can dream, can't he!