Alternative Therapies - Chapter 12

The moment we stepped over the threshold of our home, Sophie seized Lea's hand, attempting to drag her in the direction of the garden. "Lea, you absolutely must see how high I can now jump on the trampoline!", she burst out, her words a tumble of excitement. Yet Lea tempered Sophie's enthusiasm with a voice soft yet firm. "I'm sorry, Sophie, but I need to take care of Emily first and after that, it's already time for dinner. I don't think we'll have time for trampolining today."

The implication of Lea's words was clear. By "taking care" she meant nothing other than the urgently needed change of my thoroughly soaked diaper. The thought of a girl, younger than me and nearly a stranger, taking on such an intimate task made me feel uneasy. I had grown accustomed to the caring hands of my mother and Mrs. Weber. Yet for reasons I couldn't explain, the thought of having my diaper changed by someone even younger than myself made the situation feel even more mortifying than it already was.

Perhaps I should have been grateful that Lea hadn't forgotten my mishap on the bus, that she took her duty of care towards me so seriously, despite her young age, to even take on this less pleasant aspect of my care. Yet, secretly, I would have preferred if she had overlooked or simply ignored my soaked diaper and waited for my mother's return so that she could handle this uncomfortable part of my care. I would even have accepted the risk of diaper rash, which, if I were not soon freed from my damp, stuffy diaper, would be the inevitable consequence anyway.

I wasn't the only one who was less than thrilled about Lea's plans. The twinkle in Sophie's eyes had vanished in an instant when Lea had informed her that their playtime would have to wait. She was quite upset that Lea couldn't spend time with her jumping on the trampoline because of me. "How about you help me change the diapers, Sophie? After all, four hands work faster than two," Lea suggested, hoping to lift Sophie's mood. And just as abruptly as Sophie's bad mood had appeared, it vanished just as quickly. "Oh, yes," she rejoiced, absolutely thrilled at the prospect of being able to assist Lea with such a meaningful task.

Lea didn't ask for my opinion on the matter. She didn't seem to consider that I might have a problem with my diaper change being turned into a playful activity. After all, I was not one of Sophie's dolls to be changed for mere childish amusement. Yet, tormented by the uncomfortable sensation of my soaked diaper, I suppressed my discomfort and let things take their course. The less fuss I made, the quicker it would be over, and the sooner I could wear one of the airy, light pull-ups again, instead of the bulky, heavy diaper. Moreover, my skin seemed to be increasingly allergic to the moist climate of the diaper.

And so, after we had all taken a moment to wash our hands in the bathroom, I soon found myself back on the changing table. Positioned between Lea and Sophie, I was the center of their earnest attention. Gently, Lea tugged off my overalls, revealing my bulging, childishly patterned diaper. As she opened my diaper, the crinkling sound of the adhesive tabs releasing echoed through the quiet room, akin to the unexpected rumble of thunder from an approaching storm. Almost simultaneous with this sound, I felt a gust of fresh air envelop the skin previously covered by the diaper, much like a cool breeze breaking through the oppressive heat during a sudden summer downpour.

Instead of the usual two eyes, there were now four directed at my bare lower body. Embarrassed, I noticed the remnants of baby powder and isolated drops of urine that still covered my lower abdomen. "Sophie, could you please pass me a wet wipe from the pack I put next to you?" Lea asked after she had pulled the diaper away from under me and thrown it in the diaper bin. Sophie, standing on a stool to be able to see over the changing table, carefully pulled a wipe from the pack and passed it to Lea with a proud smile. "Very well done," praised Lea before she began to gently clean my lower body with the wet wipe.

I couldn't remember a time when the cleansing of my intimate area had ever felt this soothing. It was an outright relief to be freed from the lingering, stinging remnants of urine. Lea went about the task so conscientiously and tenderly, unlike any of my previous diaper changes. One thing was certain; when it came to changing diapers, Lea was a true master. Usually, I wanted nothing more than to escape from the changing table as quickly as possible, but in this moment, I wouldn't have minded if the procedure lasted forever. I didn't even care that my most private area was exposed, that I should have felt embarrassed. Instead, I felt as if I were lying on a cloud. The previously intimidating and shameful situation had transformed into a state of meditative calm, only occasionally interrupted by Lea's gentle requests to Sophie for additional wet wipes.

Basking in the moment with my eyes closed, I could feel Lea lifting my legs and meticulously cleaning the area around my backside. I was barely aware of her conversing with Sophie again. Words had lost their meaning for me at that moment. It wasn't my job to concern myself with the process of my cleansing - that was the responsibility of my caretaker, that was Lea's role. I didn't even need to know what was going on. Only when Lea gently lowered my legs and backside again and I landed on something soft instead of the cold, hard plastic of the changing table, did my mind notice something was different than expected. Like a tape recorder, it seemed to rewind the previously overlooked part, playing back Lea's recent words again. "Sophie, could you please hand me a diaper from the compartment over there," echoed Lea's voice in my head.

My eyes snapped open and fixed on the diaper that was now lying out beneath me. But it was not yet bedtime, so there was no reason why I should already be wearing one of the thick night diapers. Perhaps Lea simply didn't know that I usually only wore pull-ups during the day and had laid out the diaper for me out of ignorance. "I only wear pull-ups during the day," I tried to enlighten her. To my annoyance, my statement, with which I had actually wanted to emphasize my maturity, with which I had wanted to make it clear that I was not so small that I also needed diapers during the day, sounded strangely querulous.

"I know, Emily," Lea began gently and sensitively, stroking my left leg lovingly, "but the long bus ride means it's already later than when your mommy brings you home. Therefore, after dinner, it's already bedtime for you. Of course, I can put on one of your pull-ups now and change you again for the night after dinner, but that would take extra time. Then Pajanimals would have to be cancelled for you today. So I thought it would be better to put on your diaper for the night right away. That way you'll have plenty of time to watch Pajanimals before you have to go to bed. Or would you rather spend your time on the changing table?"

Well, what was I supposed to say to that? Of course, I didn't want to spend the rest of my free evening on the changing table, even though it wasn't because I necessarily wanted to watch Pajanimals. So I let Lea proceed. "Because you were in the wet diaper for so long, you're a bit red, so I'll cream you just to be safe," she explained to me before gently applying cream to my entire diaper area and finally fastening the diaper. She then went to the closet, pulled out my short, light pink pajamas adorned with horses, and dressed me in them. When we finally made our way to the kitchen to eat dinner, I couldn't help but cast an envious glance at my sister. She hadn't had to get ready for bed yet, so she wasn't wearing pajamas like I was. A sense of injustice, mixed with a touch of childlike jealousy, welled up within me, which I struggled to suppress.

After dinner had been consumed and teeth had been brushed, Lea turned on the television and started an episode of Pajanimals. No sooner had the show begun than I felt a heavy fatigue spreading through my limbs. It wasn't even seven o'clock yet, but the routine that had been established over weeks, going to bed immediately after Pajanimals, had fundamentally reset my internal clock. Similar to a Pavlovian dog that shows a learned reaction to a specific signal, my body had learned to become sleepy at Pajanimals time. My previous tendency to be a night owl had been completely overlaid by this consistent conditioning.

I could barely keep my eyes open when the credits of Pajanimals appeared on the screen. I felt Lea take my hand and stood up from the sofa with her, expecting that Sophie and I would now be put to bed. But then something unexpected happened. "Shall I put on an episode of Sesame Street for you while I put Emily to bed?" Lea asked Sophie, seemingly out of the blue. Sophie's nodding answer seemed to stem more from sheer astonishment than real agreement, as she also seemed surprised by this turn of events. With growing bewilderment, I watched as Lea started an episode of Sesame Street. I must already be in dreamland, as I could not explain this unusual sequence of events any other way.

When Lea asked me to say goodnight to Sophie and wanted to lead me towards my bed, I expressed my confusion despite my growing drowsiness. "Why is Sophie allowed to stay up?" I asked, furrowing my brow. Lea hit her forehead with a humorous sigh, realizing her oversight. "Oh, I completely forgot to tell you both," she admitted. "Your mom sent me a message on WhatsApp saying that because Sophie has been so good about using the potty and can now wear big girl underwear at kindergarten, she can stay up an hour later from now on."

Sophie beamed, her eyes virtually glowing with pride after hearing this news. Meanwhile, a feeling of sheer injustice surged through me. "I want to stay up later too if Sophie can," I protested instantly. It wasn't fair if Sophie got to stay up later than me, after all, I was the older one of us both.

"Emily, your eyes are already drooping, your fatigue is plainly visible on your face. Don't you think it's better if you go to sleep now?" Lea asked, her voice sounding as soft and soothing as the murmur of a stream. "No," I retorted defiantly, crossing my arms in front of my chest. "If Sophie gets to stay up later, then I want to as well!" Lea gently bent down, like a loving mother turning to her toddler, to be on my eye level before she continued speaking. "I understand, Emily, that you find it unfair that your sister gets to stay up later than you. But Sophie has worked hard to become dry. She has earned the right to stay up later. I'm sure if you also use your potty as nicely as Sophie, you'll be allowed to stay up later in the future."

"But...," I started, and already small tears were rolling down my cheeks due to the perceived injustice. But I couldn't find a convincing reason why I deserved to stay up later too. All I knew was that I wanted it too - deserved or not, it was irrelevant to me.

"Come on, Emily," Lea said lovingly, "let's go up to your room now and you'll show me how well you can already use your potty. I'm sure you can do it at least as well as your sister. You just have to believe in yourself!" She gave me an encouraging smile and added: "Do you remember Beppo, the street sweeper from 'Momo'? He says that you should always only think about the next step, not the whole path. And that's how it is with becoming dry, Emily. Step by step, and you'll see that you can do it. But the most important part is to start now and never give up, even if there are setbacks. Instead of channeling your energy into defiance, use it to steadily move forward. Every little step you make brings you closer to your goal - to become dry and to be able to stay up later."

It wasn't that Lea's words brought me an instant enlightenment or the injustice I felt magically disappeared. But somewhere deep inside, I had to admit that she had a point. Perhaps it was indeed time to complain less and act more. Lea reached out her hand and gently wiped the tears from my face. "Come, Emily," she said as she took my hand, "let's go to your room."

However, before we went up the stairs, she asked me to say goodnight to Sophie. Sophie, who was still sitting in front of the television watching Sesame Street, turned around and gave me a radiant smile. It was an image that would probably stay with me forever - my little sister, happy and content, who was allowed to start a new chapter in her life and with this chapter took another step towards growing up.

When we arrived in my room, which I still shared with Sophie, Lea initiated my nightly ritual. Gently, she pulled off my pajama pants, carefully detached my diaper, and sat me on my potty. As I sat there, she stroked my head with a loving gesture. She didn't say anything, but her gaze was clear and confident. Her eyes sparkled in a way that signaled to me that she firmly believed I would be able to use my potty.

While I sat on the potty, Lea turned to Sophie's bookshelf. "Which story should I read to you, Emily?" she asked me in a voice that sounded like a loving embrace. I was used to having a story read to me to fall asleep, but until now, it had always been my mother or Sophie who chose which story it was. "I don't care," I said indifferently. I was still a bit sulky because I had to go to bed before Sophie and it wasn't as if I, like a toddler, needed a silly story to fall asleep. Lea playfully rummaged through the bookshelf, then turned to me with a twinkling grin and said, "Sorry, I can't find 'I don't care' anywhere." A hint of a smile flitted across my face, even though I tried to continue being grumpy. "Come on, Emily," she encouraged me, "Your sister is not here, so you can decide all by yourself which story you want to hear. There's bound to be at least one story here that you especially like."

I hesitated for a moment before I dared to name my favorite. "I like the story of Frederick," I admitted quietly. It was a story I had originally bought for Sophie myself. But she never really liked it, as she preferred to hear stories about princesses. Frederick's story was different, it was about a small field mouse poet who, instead of gathering supplies for winter, collected colors, sun rays, and words. It was gentle, wise, and full of poetry, unlike the glittering princess stories that Sophie loved so much.

"Oh, that's a beautiful story, Emily," Lea affirmed. Her gaze scanned the bookshelf and her hand reached out and grabbed the slim book when she spotted it. Meanwhile, a soft splashing sound was heard. A quick glance downward confirmed it - I had actually used my potty. A rare event that rarely occurred to me in the evening hours. Before I could express my joy, I already saw Lea smiling at me. She had noticed it too.

"You did great, Emily," she praised me. Her voice was sincere and full of respect. It was not a contrived compliment, like I often received from my mother or Mrs. Weber when I achieved something they considered 'adult'. No, it was a compliment that sounded genuine, that recognized me as an equal and appreciated my small victory. I felt a wave of pride washing over me. It was not much, but it was a start.

Lea put the book aside and came back to me with a wet wipe. As if on its own, I got up from the potty and spread my legs so she could clean me. It did not even occur to me that I could have taken on this task myself. Since the beginning of my therapy, it had become a habit for others to take care of my intimate hygiene. What had previously been strange and embarrassing now felt quite normal, almost as if it had always been that way, as if it were something completely normal.

After the last traces of urine had been carefully removed from my skin, Lea lovingly attended to the care of my still reddened diaper area with the cooling cream. Then, she gently helped me back into the clean diaper and pulled on my pajama bottoms. She did all this while I was still standing. With gentle care, she finally helped me into the soft bed and pulled up the cover, adorned with glowing fairies, to my chest.

Normally, my mother always sat on a chair at the edge of the bed when she read to Sophie and me, which is why I was a bit surprised when Lea suddenly, with the book in hand, climbed into bed with me. The children's bed, which was so familiar to me and which I fit into without any problem, seemed suddenly strangely small when Lea squeezed in with me. While she was leaning only on the edge of the bed, it was unmistakable that she had long outgrown the bed, that she, unlike me, was too big to comfortably lie in it.

"Emily," Lea began, her tone gentle and inviting, "would you like to rest your head on my lap? Then you can see the pictures while I read you the story." A little shyly, I hesitated at first, but eventually followed her instruction and gently placed my head on her lap. Lovingly, Lea began to read, and as she did so, her hand softly stroked my hair.

Her gentle, soothing voice, the careful stroking of my hair - all of this combined to create a cozy atmosphere that completely enveloped me. Forgotten was the frustration of having to go to bed earlier than my sister, forgotten too were all the unpleasant things that had happened to me today. Now, I fully understood why Sophie liked Lea so much. Lea knew her craft and to be honest, I couldn't imagine a better babysitter for me. Lea's words mixed with the cozy feeling of security led to my eyes becoming heavier and heavier. Within just a few minutes, I could barely keep them open and finally gave in to my urge to sleep.