After School Help By: Zac G. NOTE: This is not suitable for those under age 13, the close- minded, etc...... This is not pornography. Chapter 1 Since the time I was born, I'd always had problems controlling my bladder. Though I finally potty trained at age 3 1/2, I had accidents and wet the bed on and off for years to come. I was teased and disparaged to no end. Though initially supportive, my parents eventually got fed up with me. They put me in diapers at night to deal with my bedwetting, and made me wear cloth training pants to school. I'd have to report to the nurse to have my training pants checking. One time, a teacher checked me in front of the entire class. It was very embarrassing. By the time I was in 9th grade, my bedwetting had disappeared and I stopped having accidents. People stopped taunting me for the most part, and life was OK. However, I soon learned that adapting to high school can be quite a feat. The school was so big, and there were many people, including seniors, who made me feel uncomfortable. in addition, I was getting loaded down with homework. Between that and soccer, I had no free time. The amount of stress that accumulated was unbearable. As a result of this anxiety buildup, I began wetting again. One morning, I woke up with a wet bed, the first one in years. Though embarrassed, I reported it to my mom. She didn't get upset; she merely told me to wash my sheets. A week or so later, it happened again. My mom was beginning to be concerned. Two days after that incident, I wet myself in school. Luckily, I was wearing a long shirt and black jeans, so nobody noticed. I myself was getting very worried by this point. When I wet my bed for the third time, my mom asked me if I was doing it on purpose. I told her no emphatically, as I had no reason to bring this humiliation upon myself. She took me to a doctor, who found nothing wrong with me physically, but suggested that it might be a phase. My mom wasn't too thrilled to hear that. A few days after the visit to the doctors marked a day I'd rather forget. I was taking a math test and had to go. However, since it was a test, nobody was allowed to leave the classroom. I held it in as I tried to finish up. By the time I got to the last problem, I was ready to burst. I rushed up to the teacher's desk, test in hand and turned it in. I then asked for a pass to the bathroom. She looked at me, deliberating for a moment. The rest of the class was looking at me as well. I glanced at the ground and saw pee dripping down my leg. I had wet my pants in the middle of class! "Go to the nurse," said the teacher in disgust. I flushed red in embarrassment as I took the pass from her. I left the room in a hurry, anxious to flee the many taints that were voiced as I was leaving. As if things couldn't get any worse, while I was in the hallway, I had another accident. Without warning, I messed my pants. I was now fighting tears (yea, I know, I shouldn't be crying) as I pressed on to the nurse's office. I was nearly stopped by a teacher who wanted to know if I had a pass. I held it up and continued. As I was walking in my pee-soaked pants and poopy underwear, a group of girls passed right by me. "Ew...that kid pooped his pants," one of them said in disgust. The rest started giggling, much to my mortification. I finally made it to the nurse's office and nearly fainted. Well, from there on my life took a turn for the worse. Various nicknames were once again attributed to me by the kids in school. I also lost a good deal of my friends. To add icing to the cake, my mom told me that if I had one more accident, she would put me back in diapers. Chapter 2 Amidst these chaotic disruptions in my life came a burst of good luck; a saving grace in disguise. I was sitting in English learning about Shakespeare. It was right before lunch and I had to pee. I only had to hold it for 5 more minutes, but I wasn't sure if I could make it. I gritted my teeth and let the time pass. When the bell rang, I ran the hell out of there. After lunch (we had a split period), the Shakespeare lecture continued and I had to go yet again. "Miss Shaw," I asked my attractive young English teacher. "Yes Joe?" "Can I go to the bathroom?" "You should have gone during lunch," she said, refusing me kindly. "Please. It's an emergency." A bunch of kids started laughing. "Ask me a little later in the period and I'll write you a pass." "But....." "Maybe you should wear diapers, Joe," one kid blurted out. "Enough of that," said Miss Shaw. I ignored the pain in my bladder and took down some notes. Miss Shaw gave no indication of ending her lecture and I really had to go. At last, I put my hand up in desperation, but Miss Shaw didn't see it in time. I had peed my pants yet again. People had an idea of what went on. I tried to be inconspicuous nonetheless, acting like nothing had happened. "It smells like piss," one kid commented. I sat there and suffered until the bell rang. "Can I see you for a minute, Joe?" asked Miss Shaw. "I'll write you a pass to your next class." "OK," I said nervously. She would probably notice my accident and tell me to go to the nurse, who would in turn tell my mother, who would then put me in diapers. I was dead! I nervously approached her desk. "I'm sorry I never wrote you that pass." "That's OK," I said. The words 'too late now' were at the tip of my tongue. "Joe," she asked frankly. "Did you wet your pants?" Up until then, I had my shirt tugged down and was standing in an awkward position. It was all a pretty bad cover-up to the obvious. "Yeah," I said, hanging my head in shame. "It's nothing to feel bad about; accidents happen. I just feel so bad because I didn't give you a pass and because everyone was teasing you." "I wish they'd stop." "The teasing?" "And the accidents!" I was very frustrated. "Do you have them frequently?" "Yeah," I mumbled. "I'm sorry if I'm being too personal, but how do your parents handle this?" "They don't. My mom said that if I had another accident, she'd put me back in diapers." Miss Shaw laughed. "She was serious." "Hmm....well, Joe. I think I might be able to help you. Stop by after school." "I don't know......" "It's not a detention, don't worry." "OK," I said. I accepted a pass from her and trotted off to the bathroom so I could change clothes. Chapter 3 I was a bit nervous as I approached Miss Shaw's room. What did she want with me anyway? I didn't cause problems. Suppose she wanted to discuss my wetting? What if there were other people there? I was getting very hesitant?" "Come in, Joe," said Miss Shaw. I was wondering what I was doing here. "Well?" I asked. "Joe, if you don't mind I would like to discuss your accidents." "I don't really want to." "It's nothing to be embarrassed about," said Miss Shaw. "My sister used to wet the bed until she was 16." "So?" "So you are one of my best students. You look like a normal, healthy boy. I don't think there's anything physically wrong with you and I wouldn't like to know why your so dismayed and why your wetting your pants. The two are probably interrelated. If you don't want to talk about it, you can leave. If not, stick around. I have no detentions to administer today." I knew that if I went home, my mother would find out about my accident (she had ways of getting information from me), and I would be punished. Yet I still had my doubts about staying here. I decided to take the latter option and just give it a try. I explained about my history of wetting and all the trouble it's caused me. "It sounds like it could be stress," said Miss Shaw. "Yeah, so what am I going to do about it?" "It will eventually go away, but until then your liable to have more accidents." "So there's nothing I can do about it?" I asked. I didn't event notice, but I was starting to cry again. "Damn it, why am I crying?" "Here," said Miss Shaw, wiping my eye with a tissue. "Don't get upset. There is something you can do about it, something I can help you with. However, it requires your cooperation. You also can't tell anybody about it." "Why not?" "Because I could lose my job." I was getting very suspicious. "Joe, I'm only trying to help you. Do you want my help?" "O-OK." "Good. Then please see me after school tomorrow." "All right. Bye Miss Shaw." "Good bye Joe." I left feeling a little better about myself.