Prolog
It all started when I was 5. My parents had noticed that I was not growing like the other kids my age. Even at five, it was easy to mistake me for a late three year old. They took me to the doctor and it was determined that I had a rare form of testicular cancer that was affecting the output of hormones responsible for growth. The decision was made to treat the disorder with several rounds of chemotherapy and radiation treatment, something that was not at all easy for a child. Through all this my father did his best to help me to live the life of a regular little boy. The painful therapy continued for the next couple of years and continued to stunt my growth and caused several side effects such as bed wetting. Even though I was emotionally a prepubescent boy, I was physically the same size that I had been for the last couple years. I went through the next several years of elementary school always being just a little bit teased for my size. I went into remission, the cancer came back, went through the same painful therapy, went into remission and once again the therapy came back around my 11th birthday.
The doctors made a decision to surgically remove the tumor and went in to operate. When they got in, they learned that the cancer had spread and ultimately ended up removing large portions of my genatilia. The damage was so severe that after a consultation with my parents, the doctors reconstructed the remainder of my penis as a vagina. I woke up groggily from my cancer surgery feeling a little pain down there, but very drugged. Also to my dismay, I was wearing a diaper. My bedwetting had never been handled that way at home. Even in my fog I knew it was absurd for an 11 year old to be wearing a diaper. Little did I know the bigger surprise was still waiting?
Part 1.
I awoke to a rustling in my hospital room. My mom was sitting there looking at some flowers that had been sent by some worrisome relative. She was elated to see that I was awake. I was shocked to learn that I had been out for over a week. I had a slight headache, but there was little pain otherwise. I rolled over slightly in my bed and heard again the tell sound of a disposable diaper. I guess the look on my face explained what I was thinking.
“Honey, don’t worry about the diaper, no one has to know about it. The doctor says you might suffer from a little incontinence as a result of the operation.”
Now I didn’t even know what incontinence meant, I think at that moment I was a little more worried about the outcome of the operation.
“Did they get all of the cancer mom.”
“They did, but there is something I have to explain to you… The only way they could get all the cancer was to remove your we we honey.” She let this sink in for just a second, I was speechless. “You know the difference between boys and girls is that girls don’t have a we we down there right baby?”
“Yes, I think”
“Well you don’t have a we we now, so do you understand what that means right?” The only thing I could think of right them was the warm sensation that seemed to flood into my crotch and at that very moment I couldn’t help but to start crying.
Part 2.
The nurse heard my crying and came in to give me something to help me calm down. I winced at the pain from the injection, but shortly after that, it seemed that I simply didn’t care about anything. I just laid there while the nurse proceeded to change my wet diaper. I remember my mom quietly weeping beside the bed.
I spent the next few days in another daze. I would eat a little here and there, sleep, and get my diaper changed. It was weird to have no control. I had always wet the bed, but never while I was awake. Now I would be laying there and just feel myself wetting. I usually started to cry a bit and I guess it got to be a sign for the nurse or my mom to come and change my diaper. Nothing more was said over the next few days about my being a boy or a girl. It was just an unmentionable subject. There was a lot of tension in the air.
I started getting a little restless and cabin fever spending so much time in the hospital and I began to get up and walk around a little bit. It was very embarrassing because it felt to me like it was obvious that I had to wear a diaper under my hospital gown. I got very sad as I walked past the bathroom door. There was a mirror there and starring back at me was not a growing 11 year old boy, but what appeared to be a skinny four-year-old child. My growth had been so stunted by the drugs and hormone problems over the past several years I was horribly small for my age and based upon my reflection, I guess I could have been either a little boy or a little girl. The diaper even gave me the look of a toddler.
Finally it came time for me to go home. My mom showed up with a bag of clothes for me to wear home, I expected some of some of my old clothes. Mom had other ideas…
Part III
After a final diaper change by the nurse (I had still showed no signs of acquired bladder control), My mom proceeded to dress me in some pink overalls. I started to argue with her and she explained.
“Honey, you are going to be a girl now, there is nothing that we can do about it now, but embrace this and thank god that you are now cancer free. The doctor says that with a supplement of hormones, you will now be free to grow as a normal child. He foresees no future medical problems. You will be able to get control of your bladder and you will be able to grow as a normal little person. You are going to have to realize that that person is a little girl.”
Now at this time, all my hair had fallen out as a result of the cancer treatment. I began to cry a little and just stood there and let my mom dress me in the overalls. There was a white long sleeve shirt and she pulled the overalls over my head and began to snap them up in the crotch.
“Baby, the doctor says you are just a little smaller size wise than the average four year old girl. I want you to be able to grow up like a normal little girl and not have to put up with all of the teasing by the other kids for your size and right now for your diapers. I am going to help you to be a little more normal so from now on, you are a four year old girl, not an 11 year old boy.” I looked again in the mirror; sure enough what was looking back at me was a little bald toddler girl. The diaper was obvious, but it didn’t look out of place, almost expected.
Part IV
I was wheeled out of the hospital to my mom’s car, again in shock, knowing that maybe this was best for me, but not sure how to handle it. What about my friends, what about my school??? There were so many questions. Then she picked me up and lifted me into the back seat where a child’s car seat was waiting for me…
“Mom, why do I have to sit in this seat? I’m not really 4?”
“Sweetheart, from now on you are really a 4 year old girl. Little girls are required to sit in car seats or Mommy will get a ticket, you don’t want to have that do you?” Then I felt the need to release my bowls, a first in a few days… “Mom, I need to use the restroom.”
“Now honey, you are going to be four now, there is nothing you can do about it, the decision has been made. I want you to start acting your age. A four year old calls me Mommy not mom. They call the toilet the potty, not the restroom. And furthermore, you are still in diapers. It is not uncommon at all for a four year old girl to still be in diapers. I want you to start talking properly and I don’t want you to mention the potty at all. I will check your diapers and if you need changed I will handle it. Understood?”
All I could do is start crying again. Its ok baby girl she said as she put a pacifier into my mouth. I couldn’t hold it anymore and my bowls took over and I filled my diaper.
Let me know what you think….