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Poetry
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The Bedwetter
By Talisker
07 January 2007
I remember,
waking every morning,
cold and soaking,
in a pool of my own piss.

I remember,
the shame, the sting,
the guilt, the smell.

I remember,
Mum took me to the doctor.
They talked,
as if I wasn't there,
of drinks and bedtimes,
of special beds and alarms,
of things mum could never afford.

The doctor gave us medicine.
A big brown bottle of pink,
sweet syrup.
Even at nine I wasn't daft.
I new it was "kid on" medicine.

My awful secret left me scarred,
I hated who I was - not a boy,
but a weak bladder.
To be pitied, to be scorned.

I couldn't go to school camp.
No place for bedwetters,
late developers, babies.

I was terrified at school,
that it would happen,
I would wet myself,
and be laughed at.
The fear made me nervous,
The anxiety made my bladder
feel full to bursting point.

But it never did happen.
Just many times nearly,
I was bullied by my own bladder.

Now many years have passed,
I still wake up and rejoice
in dryness.
Yet I never recovered mentally.
I still carry the stigma
of the bedwetter.

Oli 07/01/07

Reviews

Written by Phil (6838 comments posted) 7th January 2007
Very different from your usual style: bare of images (almost) and plain in language. 
 
I don't suppose there's anything very pretty about bedwetting though. Not for those who do it or clear up from it. Strangely, your lack of passion in the language actually highlights your feelings - as if you're still coy about admitting it etc. 
 
Effective poem. 
 
Slightly off topic;- I have a memory of my dad coming downstairs, and to my shame, holding up my bottom sheet with a big piss stain in the middle. I think I was about seven and I think it happened more than once. That's not been through my mind for a good fifteen years or so. Thanks for that! Just wait until we get to other end of life and start all over again. Happy days eh? 
 
All the best. Phil.

Written by LynB (435 comments posted) 7th January 2007
I must admit, Oli, this poem did strike a nerve with me. My son, who is now 14, used to wet the bed until he was 8. He went to a clinic, and they gave him an alarm. The thing was, he slept so soundly that the only person it woke was me!! Eventually, he stopped without any medical intervention, and has been dry at night ever since, thankfully. 
 
My mum always tells me I handled it right, by not mentioning his wet sheets, and not pointing it out to him. Ironically, people who tell a child off for bedwetting, and tell them they shouldn't be doing it, are only making things worse! Do they think a child wants to lie on wet sheets?? It's a medical condition, for God's sake! I was determined that I wouldn't humiliate my boy like that. 
 
It seems to have worked, because it hasn't adversely affected him at all, and he never even mentions it now. 
 
Very effective poem - highlights perfectly how some children feel about wetting the bed. As I said, a subject very close to home. 
 

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