Lana:

I woke to terrible pain in my side. It felt like I needed a bowel movement but I had been having them normally in my diaper. My diaper was soaked as usual. I would have cried to get Mommy's attention if not pacified. The pain came in waves but always remained a dull ache.

Mommy finally came to check on me and I pointed to the place it hurt as she noticed the tears in my eyes. She touched my belly and I winced. It hurt worse than before. She pulled out her phone and looked at it for a moment.

“Oh, dear, Baby Lana,” she said, “I think your appendix is inflamed. You need to go to the hospital!”

She touched something else on her phone and the pain subsided along with the use of my body below the rib cage. She brought Zoey in and explained what she had found and Zoey agreed, that I needed to get to the hospital immediately.

When I woke up, I was in a hospital and being examined by Zoey and a nurse. She dressed me in juvenile clothes but not babyish like I had on before. Zoey had her teeth in and was speaking professionally. Another doctor came in and they stepped out of the room.

When they returned, Trisha was with them, pushing Brandi in a wheelchair. I didn't hear all they said but I could see Brandi slumped over but we locked eyes. I raised a hand but my fingers were all curled up and my wrist bent over. My legs were bent at the knees I couldn't straighten them on my own.

I overheard the doctor speaking with Trisha and Zoey, “We will get her into emergency surgery as soon as I can get scrubbed in.”

“Thank you, Doctor,” Trisha said, “It was lucky I noticed her being fussy this morning when I went to change her. I adopted her and her sister from that awful orphanage. Most of the staff abandoned them when the war broke out.”

The doctor patted her hand, “They are very lucky you found them.”

“Yes, they have the minds of two-year-olds but they are such a joy to have,” said Trisha.

I tried to speak up but it came out as a guttural moan that the doctor didn't even acknowledge. Here I was, in a public hospital, all of us, and Trisha had them convinced we were special needs adoptees from the war. The nurse returned and fitted an IV in my hand.

The nurse smiled at me and checked my diaper. She pulled a cart over to my bed and changed my diaper in full view of anyone. I was mentally deficient to her and not worthy of basic human dignity. Next, she hung a bag of liquid and injected something into it and my world faded to black.

I awoke in a confused state. For a few moments, I thought I was waking up in my bed at home, my parents in the next room. I soon came to my senses when my hands wouldn't wipe my eyes properly and an IV still connected to my hand. That hand was taped to a board and fastened to the railing. I suppose they were afraid I would pull it out.

The nurse came in to check my dressings. I watched as she pulled up my gown and exposed my small bandages. There were three of them, navel, lower right and one slightly higher. The nurse talked to me like I was an infant. I tried to respond but it came out more unintelligible noise. She smiled at me and changed my diaper.

The rest of the day was boring with nothing but diaper changes and being spoon-fed by a nurse. I felt as helpless as Trisha wanted me to be. Trisha visited me that morning after breakfast with Brandi pushed in a babyish wheelchair by Zoey in adult feminine attire.

I heard Zoey and Trisha discussing with the doctor when he made his rounds. He said I hadn't had a bowel movement since surgery and I couldn't be discharged until I did. Zoey suggested ordering a suppository if I hadn't fouled my diaper by dinner time. I dreaded that but there was little I could do.

The clock on the wall said 4:40PM when Trisha, Zoey and Brandi returned to visit me. I could see in Brandi's eyes that she was concerned for me. I winked to show I was my usual self. She winked back and we knew the other was still OK.

The nurse returned before Trisha took the family home. She changed my wet diaper and noted nothing else. Zoey signed off on the order in her medical capacity to have a suppository administered. The nurse left to go to the pharmacy.

Trisha smiled at me, “Oh, Lana, once you can go poopies again, Mommy can take you home.”

I nodded my head as best I could. The nurse returned and untaped the side of my diaper. She rolled me over and pushed a cool suppository into my rear. Then, the nurse rolled me back and she fastened the diaper in place. She left and Trisha kissed me before leaving.

Nothing happened for several minutes and the nurse brought my dinner. It was a large portion of mushy food, mostly pureed corn and lima beans. I could feel the churning in my guts as the suppository did its job. I messed myself during dinner. The nurse made a sniff but didn't stop feeding me.

“Oh, that's a good girl, Lana,” she said.

I was more embarrassed about crapping my diaper in the nurse's presence than I was about the mess coming out my rear. I'd long since lost the ability to keep my diaper clean but the humiliation of the nurse being present was new.

I thought she would change me after dinner but she took the tray away and finished feeding the other patients. I was no stranger to being in a dirty diaper. At least she changed me into a clean diaper and turned the TV on to keep me company. Some silly children's show with a big dinosaur. It put me to sleep quickly.

Mommy came and picked me up the next morning when the hospital discharged me. I could have walked if allowed but Trisha's machine had my body twisted. The nurse and an orderly transferred me to a wheelchair. Trisha had the car around and they put me in my booster seat for the ride home.