Wednesday, July 1, 2009

Incontinence at a High School Reunion

By Kate Kew

She leaned over our table, physically planting herself into the conversation, and said in a hoarse whisper, "For years I thought I was the only one with this problem! But now I'm hearing about it everywhere." She had glommed on to the subject when I mentioned that my CV included a stint working for an adult diaper supplier. I could not believe how relieved she was to be talking about the subject of incontinence.

I was at a high school reunion, meeting up with a long time unseen and dear friend from those hallowed teen years. Sherry B. was a delight and surprise to see. The two of us had spent many after-school hours together, working at the DQ, sweating out Algebra assignments and struggling with Prom decisions. Sadly, as friendships of that life era go, we quickly fell out of touch when we went our separate college ways. I had heard of her Multiple Sclerosis diagnosis through my mother only a few years later and often guiltily wondered how she was coping but never made the effort to contact her across the continent. I guess in my imaginings I thought she would never be able to make it to this event. But there she sat, with a cane on each side and a grin as broad as ever.

It was hard to believe that she could treat me with the same comfort and ease as she had when we were each other's high school confidantes. But there she was, poring with unfeigned interest over the little family photo album I had brought, that mandatory accessory at these functions. And I found hers equally interesting, a photo essay of three small strawberry blonde boys playing in a backyard splash pool to three strikingly handsome young men showing off their Jeeps and girlfriends. "You would think by now I would be done with the diaper scene," Sherry gave a little snort. "But now I am caught up in the world of adult diapers."

"What goes around, comes around, I guess," she continued. "It was terrifying at first to realize that incontinence was something I was going to have to accommodate. I mean, who wants to be signing the UPS delivery slip for adult diapers when you've got a teenager looking over your shoulder? But over time I realized these kids only needed me to shrug my shoulders about it so they could move on, too."

"So now it seems the whole world, or at least all of cable TV, is talking about adult diapers, pull-ups and pads. There are even weirdoes on talk shows telling how they wear this stuff for kicks. And here you are, telling me that you are in the business. What's going on here?" she asked.

Ah, Sherry. If she only knew how much I admired her at that moment. I was sitting there listening to her and trying to absorb what it must have been like for her to raise three boys while coping with whatever her MS threw at her during any given week. There was so much spunk propped in that cafeteria chair that I felt I must surely be dull and uninteresting company for her. But she really was anxious to hear my thoughts on the subject so I obliged her with the facts of aging America and the accompanying incontinence issues. In fact, she needed to know what good company she was in, that the subject of adult diapers wasn't the domain of derelicts and social rejects.

With a projected 147% increase of citizens 65 and older in the first half of this century, and with the promise of increased longevity, this means a lot more people have already begun to size up adult diapers than ever before. Incontinence can strike people from all walks of life and of all ages but it is the increase of an aging population that is bringing the topic to the public forefront. I assured Sherry that she was on the cutting edge of this wave because of her positive attitude and that she should not be shy about it. She should share her voice on the subject of incontinence. Start blogging or podcasting, getting the word out. I was on a roll, handing her PR assignments.

Thank goodness I stopped to take a breath. It was then that I noticed that my friend was fading in her chair. She had not flown hundreds of miles, enduring airports and airplanes with her two canes and a wheelchair to have someone tell her how she needed to champion a cause. She was here to gain strength from some familiar old faces she recognized from a time when she had known fewer cares. And what she was wanting right this moment was a guiding hand on her wheel chair on the way to the ladies' room. "Just wheel it to the door and dump the cripple in," she instructed. I stopped in my tracks, stunned at her words, until I caught a glimpse of her teasing smirk. Attitude is everything and Sherry, baby, you've got the right stuff.

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