Time For Disposal-Chapter 2-Spring Cleaning-Snippet 1

Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction, the ages are represented as mental & emotional ages NOT physical ages. Adults who are developmentally delayed, emotionally stunted, or permanently disabled, in physical sense or mental sense, for the purpose of using them as a metaphor for how we actually treat the disabled. (As represented in all parts of this story: “Time for Disposal”-See heading) A few “Characters” are “little people-Midgets.” There IS NO Pedophilia or the likeness of it, involved! Subjects: Disabled, Cultures that reject their Disabled, Diapers, Dirty Diapers, Garbage Collectors, What’s-in-your-trash.)
Foreword: In SOME cultures, like in Samburu, Kenya and in Germany during the Nazi Regime, The Disabled are often Killed, Maimed, left for dead, sold and even starved as well as poisoned. (The Action T4 program)
The tale I am about to tell, is one of a possible future, if things keep going the way they are currently. Society is growing more and more weary of paying for healthcare for those who aren’t productive! Eventually, society might reconsider things like Euthanasia, and forced elective suicide to alleviate the costs of healthcare and maintenance costs for the disabled. In MY tale, a section of the USA and Kenya have decided to allow each of the Disabled Subjects and their Caregivers to chose how and the methods in which to effectively “get rid of” these subjects to both alleviate the costs and to alleviate their suffering. The Republicans have reached a decision in their OWN party to enact a law that allows each disabled “subject” (known as a SUBJECT rather than a person…in this context) to choose the method in which they can be taken away and left to exist at large incontinence product recycling plants and absorbent product processing plants, where these facilities often use these “subjects” for testing, for whatever they need them for.
Disclaimer-2 While based in SOME historical and cultural facts relating to how the disabled have been and still are treated to this day. This story is mere fiction and may or may NOT coincidentally coincide with real events that have occurred in the past, present or will occur in the future.
Characters:
Mommy- Trisha
Oldest sister Tammy Age: 14
Older sister-Jessica-Age:10
Older disabled brother-Josh-Age:7
Adopted Disabled baby Boy-Brian-Anthony-Age: 5 (He can’t talk, can’t walk and he is forced to wear diapers all of the time.)
Daycare-1 staff member-1-Rachel
Daycare-1 staff member-2-Annette
Daycare-1 staff member-3-
Daycare-1 Cleaning lady-Mary
Daycare 2 Cleaning lady-Guadalupe
Daycare-2 Owner-
Trash Lady (Diaper Garbage Collector) 1- Zoe-Written by an actual female garbage collector Via instant Message
Trash Lady (Diaper Garbage Collector) 2- Sadie
The Owners of the Trash Company: “Zoe & Sadie’s Diaper & Baby Disposal Service”-Zoe & Sadie.
There were moments of consciousness where I could see and hear what my mother was saying. She was running beside me with tears in her eyes….I could faintly hear others talking but I could only hear the tones of their voices. A large gasoline tanker had hit our car on the passenger side hard! I had been in the backseat with my older brother.
I had been seated right behind mother and my older brother had been seated behind the passenger seat when the tanker hit the car. My brother had fallen into a very deep coma with burns all over his body while I only had a few cuts, bruises, a bad concussion and a few light burns on my right side. Mother had heavy brain injuries sustained in the accident but she was able to get us two boys out of the car in time before the car exploded! Mother and us two boys had just come back from eating lunch with grandma and were headed home when the accident occurred. Mom’s Buick LeSaber was gone, blown up! The tanker driver didn’t make it, he died of a heart attack while driving the truck and had been dead mere seconds when the truck hit. As the doctors rushed my brother and I into the ER, Mother decided to stay with me, who was in and out of consciousness. I heard my mother tell one of the doctors that I had hit my head pretty hard on the side of the car near where I had been sitting. I then faded back into unconsciousness for a little while before a flash of consciousness came back and a team of nurses, doctors and nurse’s aides were all standing over me or running about getting this or that for the doctors….then I went back to unconsciousness again.
The doctor diagnosed me as being into a deep vegetative state that he wasn’t sure WHEN I was going to come out of or IF I was going to come out of it. The doctor told my mother that IF…I DID come out of the vegetative state, that I may have some severe disabilities.
Mother wasn’t sure WHAT to think. I was only 3 at the time of the accident. The doctor made the decision to move me to the coma ward to keep me until mother decided to either pull the plug or I woke up. For a whole year, mother came to see both of us boys every single day. Then one day, my then 5 year old brother died without regaining consciousness. This made mother really afraid that I was about to do the same. She stopped coming at all.
Meanwhile, inside MY head, what seemed like another life, was going on and I was living it. (Fade into the scene:
After I had been compacted in the Stationary Compactor with all of the diapers, the now full stationary compactor was getting ready to be shut down and made ready for pick-up in two days. After the last load was done, the hopper door was closed and then locked.
The power was shut off and then the other compactor on the right side of the compactor I was in, was powered up and the hopper door was then opened. Everyone who worked to load the compactor I was now in, went to work, filling the other empty compactor up.
While the janitorial staff worked to fill up the other compactor, more and more diapers and a few more subjects were brought down to the disposal area, for disposal. Since the other compactor was running, most of the subjects were put into disposal holding rooms, with large picture windows instead of walls, four rather dirty disposal cribs were inside of the disposal holding room, waiting for some subjects to be put into each one while the subjects waited to be put into the stationary compactor.
The short two days go by, it is now Friday. At around 10:00 am, the roll-back truck arrives to pick up the compactor I am in. The driver parks the truck, gets out, and walks behind the truck to where the winch is, turns the power on to the winch, then grabs the end of the cable to pull it out so that he can attach the cable to the compactor. Then the man gets the packer part of the unit, detached and disconnected from the power before going back to the truck to start the winch. The compactor lurches a bit and starts to roll up onto the truck. About 18 minutes later, the container is now up onto the back of the truck and then the driver puts on what is called: a diaper….over the container’s opening.
The cover that is applied over the opening, is to keep the trash from falling out. A lot of drivers call this thing a diaper because it serves the same function.
Once all of the necessary protocols are done, the driver gets into the tuck and then drives the nearly 20 miles to the diaper landfill. Once there, the driver backs up to the transfer station compactor pit to dump the load of diapering trash and myself, into the transfer pit.
The driver gets out of the truck after positioning the back of the truck over the pit, and then unlatches the container’s door, then walks back to the cab to tip the back so that the packer container could be emptied. All of the tightly packed diapers inside of the container and I, began to slide out of the container, and fall down into the hopper-pit of the transfer station’s compactor. There were already tons and tons of other loose unbagged, unwrapped, clean and dirty disposable diapers, clean and formerly wet cloth diapers and about six other subjects or subjects in the station’s transfer compactor. The compactor was packing the loads of diapers, diapering trash and the six subjects-subjects into the intake of a machine that spaced the trash out before it was dumped onto a sorting conveyor belt. Once on the belt, sorters separate the cloth diapers from the disposable diapers and the subjects-subjects based on what type of diaper each of them is wearing.
Some of the diaper manufacturing companies, had contracts with this landfill to get subjects-subjects, from the landfill, to use as diaper prototype testers, super absorbent polymer (Diaper gel) chemical testers, and laundry soap test-subjects. Some of the poorer families in the area also could come over to the landfill, if they wanted to and could afford to have a baby, could come to the landfill, pick out any of the subjects that were there…for a flat fee. Diaper recycling companies also take some of the subjects and subjects from the landfill…because they get first dibs on any subjects that come to the landfill as per their contracts. The diaper manufacturer companies also have the same dibs on any subjects.
The disposable diaper that I was wearing, went up to my neck….it was very saggy and very bunched up. It now had some small rips and tears in it in various places. Some of the stuffing was sticking out of it as I was forcefully shoved into the opening of the intake….of the machine that was spacing out the diapering trash at the landfill’s transfer station. As I entered the intake, diapers again were being crushed and bunched up by the compactors. The compactor cycles, kept lots of pressure on the loads of diapering trash and all of us subjects-subjects. This was so that the intake rolling pins (much like a clothing wringer on an old fashioned wash-tub) or better known as feeder pins, could pull 50 lbs of diapers and a baby-subject, into them and then pull them through before the diapers and the subjects were dropped out, into a stainless steel chute that eventually dropped the diapering trash onto the sorting conveyor belt. I passed through the feeder pins with tons of diapers being pressed against me and my damaged disposable diaper.
My diaper was a little wet but not completely soaked just yet. Since my diaper was fastened up to my neck, it had a long ways to go before being completely soaked.
Once I was through the feeder pins, I dropped onto the 70 degree angled, stainless steel chute and went sliding down until it flattened out for a few moments until the chute came to an end…dropping the diapers and I onto a slow moving conveyor belt. The belt took the diapers and I around a left-hand curve then into broad daylight. There were 40 sorters standing at 5-foot intervals along each side of the belt. They were busy picking off the cloth diapers and any subjects or subjects, wearing cloth diapers. They were also to check to make sure that no cloth diapers were hidden under disposable diapers that any subjects or subjects were wearing. These subjects that were wearing cloth diapers underneath their disposable diapers, were taken off the belt and then taken to a special holding area until someone could come, inspect the diapers, and then decide where that baby or subject was headed and who’s custody they were to be put into. The diaper companies and the diaper recycling companies all had priority over the subjects and subjects, any of the subjects or subjects that the companies didn’t want, were put up for adoption to the poorer families or sold to whoever wanted to buy them. Any subjects or subjects that weren’t bought, or handed over to diaper companies or recycling companies, were kept there at the landfill and used as demonstration subjects…during compactor demonstrations, wet disposal demos…that is when a subject is flushed down a special toilet that takes subjects and cloth diapers as well as any cloth items.
I was carried over to the subject holding station that was just a bunch of old plastic cubicles that had old fashioned cribs and playpens in most of them and the changing and inspection stations were at each end of each section of cubicles. The cubicles were outside and in the open, in an area between the composting machines that churned the diapers and any subjects around inside, 360 degrees, every two hours. The compost machines, had a foaming chemical that was sprayed into the compost machine at the beginning of each cycle. Once each day, another set of spray nozzles, sprayed Super absorbent deactivator liquids all over everything inside the composting machines so that the gels were deactivated. Once each week, each of the compost machines was then emptied and then the contents were taken to one of the compost sheds and then the subjects and the diapers from each compost machine, were dropped into an eight-foot pit, until the pit was full. Then, a new pit was dug out and more diapers filled that pit. Once that area was completely full, the steel doors were closed, latched and then locked. Another building, 50 feet from that one, was put up…building each one out of cinder block and cement. Down in landfill section A, four-story underground silos or diaper storage buildings were being filled with disposable diapers. There were steel double doors at each story of each silo or storage building. This way, if someone needed access to that building, and the contents, they could get inside and get to the diapers and any subjects or subjects that might be inside.
I was carried over to one of the holding sections and then left inside of an old, dirty crib that had a top on it that locked…so that I couldn’t escape. The crib still had some old formerly wet disposable diapers in it, some old, formerly wet, cloth diapers that had dried and were shoved into one of the corners of the crib. There were also a few old cabbage patch dolls with diapers on that were in fairly bad shape from being compacted so many times. The dolls smelled like dried pee and looked dirty as heck. Dark stains donned their front-sides and backsides. The faces on a few of them, were caved in.
A few minutes later, a red-head lady in a vintage nurse’s uniform came over to the crib I was in and handed me a tall blue baby bottle full of blueberry juice. “Hey there sweetie….I am here to get you something to drink and see if you need your diaper changed. I will come back to check your diaper after you’ve finished that bottle. The landfill has big plans for you. We have custody of you now…..you…are the ward of this landfill.” Explained the red-head woman in the vintage nurse’s uniform. “I have to get you all nice and ready for inspection by the diaper company representatives who are coming by to look at all of the subjects that we got, in the past week. If they don’t take any of you subjects, then we offer you all to the diaper recycling companies. Any of you that they don’t take, we put up for sale to the public. Then, any of you that aren’t bought, we keep here and use you and your diapers, for various demos and for landfill operations as well as mandatory operations, which could be…anything from composting, to staff trainings, to equipment maintenance. Who knows, the owner of this landfill, might take you over to his other business, and keep you there as one of his subjects.” Explained the woman in the vintage nurse’s uniform talking to me. “I’ll be back in 30 minutes to see if you’ve finished your bottle and to check your diaper.” Said the woman before she left.
I laid down inside of the crib, the vinyl of the dirty mattress against my fully diapered body, drinking the tall, 16 ounce blue baby bottle full of blueberry juice. Before I knew it, the woman had returned, to take the bottle from me, and check my diaper and change it if it needed it. “Ok sweetheart….it’s time to check your diaper….I am going to get you all nice and cleaned up for inspection…..there aren’t many clean diapers around right now…most of the clean diapers or the somewhat usable ones, all go to the nursery…to be used on the subjects there. You’ll just need to settle for being in a drier diaper than the one you have on right now.” Said the woman as she unlocked the crib’s top, raised it, then lowered the side. “OK, little one…take my hand and we’ll go to the changing station together.” Said the woman offering her left hand for me to take hold of. Once I took her hand, the woman led me up the row then she turned right and then left which took us to another set of open outdoor cubicles that were all separate changing stations. She walked down the row looking for one that was open and available.
“Here we go…now UP……you go…now…sweetie, lay down…time to change your diaper now. That a boy…..now, my orders are to keep any and all diapers that I take off of you, with you so that who ever inspects you, can see that you wet your diapers like you are supposed to, and so that they can do what THEY want, with the diapers afterwards.” Explained the woman in the vintage nurse’s outfit.
Then the nurse began to unfasten the tapes on my diaper near my neck. Once she had unfastened my diaper, she opened it up and then lifted my butt for a long minute so to pull the whole diaper out from under my shoulder blades. Then she dropped the diaper onto the ground while she grabbed one of the drier disposable diapers from one of the nearby piles of diapers. “Here you go little diapered one…..this ought to make you a little more comfortable than you were.” Said the nurse as she lifted my bottom and slid the diaper under me. Then the nurse put some used but dry old booster pads/diaper doublers into the diaper to make it thicker and more absorbent. Then the nurse pulled the diaper up, and then fastened the tapes. A few of the tapes didn’t want to stick any more so the nurse took out a roll of strong masking tape and then applied the tape over the old tapes to make new tape tabs. Once my diaper was fastened, the nurse pulled me up and made me sit on the changer for a few minutes while she went over to a set of cabinets in one of the changing stalls, to get some wipes. She then brought the wipes over and then began to use the wipes to clean me up some. “There you go sweetie. As clean as I can get you for now, without sending you to the cloth diaper rinsing stations.” Stated the nurse bending down, tucking the pile of used wipes into my old diaper. The nurse then picked my old diaper up, then put the tapes back onto the front to hold the diaper together for a while until something could be done with it. Then the nurse took me by my left hand and then led me back over to where she had took me from. She helped me back into the crib, she tossed my slightly wet diaper into the crib with me, and then she raised the side and then lowered the top and then locked it. “Ok sweetie…..inspection time is in one hour….I will be back in 45 minutes to get you out and take you over to the inspection area. There are several people that are working in this department so…if you need something, cry if you want……ok?” Then the nurse left the area and the staff members that worked there, brought in a Rubbermaid plastic bin full of formerly wet disposable diapers, and a bin full of some formerly wet cloth diapers too. The staff members, all females, were busy making sure that there were enough dry diapers on hand and also busy gathering up any wet diapers that needed to be tossed onto a pile or into one of the many underground diaper storage silos. Once of the staff member women came over to my crib and then turned to ask her boss; “Hey boss, does this subject go out to the composting machines?” Asked the staff member, crouched down and looking at my diaper and I.
Then the woman’s boss yelled back; “no, he stays right here. Look at the tag to see what the orders are, then come back here and help me carry all of these heavy diapers over to diaper storage…ok?” said the boss. Then the staff member walked away and went back to work. A few minutes later, the nurse came back. “Hi there little one…..time to take you to your inspection now…..is your dipee still nice and dry?” asked the nurse talking to me in babyish tone of voice. Then the nurse unlocked and raised the top and then lowered the side of the crib. She reached in and helped me out of the crib. She offered me her left hand and then I reached out to take it. She took my hand and then we both walked out of the area, past the diaper silos, past…the composting area, past the sorting area, past the large building where tons and tons of cloth diapers were currently being flushed, and then the nurse led me over to another area near the front, close to the transfer station, where there were fourteen cribs, about eight of the cribs were occupied. The nurse led me to the first unoccupied crib and then she helped me into it. She then raised the side and then lowered and locked the top. She also had been carrying an old dirty looking diaper bag on her right shoulder that I hadn’t seen. The bag contained the old diaper that she had taken off of me earlier and a few other diapers that had little wet spots in them but still could be used. She slung the diaper bag over the head board post and then she leaned down and looked at me through the bars. “Ok little one, I’ll be back to check on you, if you are still here when I get back, I’ll take you over to the area where we do the baby yard sale. Remember, if no one takes you from there, I’ll simply take you over to the demonstration arena and sign you over to them, ok?” Explained the nurse before she walked away.
About five minutes later, several groups of people came over to where the cribs were. They walked past the cribs stopping to look at each of us, poke their fingers into our diapers and ask a bunch of questions about each of us. Then, a couple of the technicians that worked in this area, came over and began to open all of the cribs up, taking each of us subjects out and making us stand up in front of each crib.
Then, six representatives from different companies, diaper manufacturer, diaper recycling companies, trash companies, and a few other private companies as well.
Each rep, came over to each of us subjects, one at a time, leaned down to poke at our diapers, turn us around, to look us over from the back-side, and then one of the reps pointed at one of the other subjects, a baby girl, wearing a rather thick, slightly wet disposable diaper, that also had pig-tails in her hair. The rep was from one of the big diaper manufacturers. They decided to take her, and one of the boys at the other end of the line. The diaper recycling company rep was having trouble deciding on me, another diapered boy, and one of the girls. The rep picked one of the girls, then came back over to me, inserted his index and middle fingers on both hands into the side leg-hole elastic in my disposable diaper. He started to talk to the others in his group….and then he stood back up, and then walked over to the other boy he was considering getting. He did the same thing to the other boy’s diaper that he had done to mine…only he picked that boy over me. Once they had taken their subjects, they left. The only two reps left, came over to me, both started to turn me around, stick their fingers into my leg holes and into the waist of my diaper to check my diaper’s condition and to see if I’d work for what they needed me for. There were only four of us left now, and the reps may or may not take all four of us. The reps both did their diaper poking to the other four before they began to haggle over the cost of the subjects for their conditions. The diaper recycling rep took a baby girl at first and then he left. The private company rep picked the other boy and then left. I was the only one left, so the technician put me back into my crib, raised the side, lowered the top and then walked away. A few minutes later, the nurse came back to get me. She unlocked, then raised the top, lowered the side and then took me out. She took my right hand with her left hand and then we both walked over to the baby yard sale arena. 10 minutes later, we both arrived, the nurse walked me over to one of the arena staff ladies, who were dressed in really skimpy uniforms. The very young lady took me and then brought me over to one of the enclosed holding areas where she was going to put me until it was time to be shown off. She used a key to open the metal door and then she opened the door. She used her other hand to forcefully guide me into the enclosed room that had a BIG pile of old formerly wet disposable diapers in one corner and a 3-foot high pile of old dingy looking, formerly wet cloth diapers in another. The floor was smooth cement and the lady quickly shoved me in and then quickly shut the door behind me. The door locked automatically. The room had one not too bright light that came on after the door had shut. I toddled over to the disposable diaper pile to sit down. My thick, bulky disposable diaper scrunched up under my own weight as I sat down. In about 20 minutes, the grand stands had filled and the announcer began the sale. Each baby that was up for sale, was taken out of the room, paraded in front of the crowd first, and then each baby was put onto one of the mobile diaper changers so that the crowd could see the inside of the baby’s diaper. Once the diaper was off, the baby was again paraded in front of the crowd, so that they could see the back-sides and the front-sides before each baby was put right back into the diaper that they had come with, wet or not.