Adam Lewis's Life Story

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Adam Lewis's Life Story

Postby Admin on Tue Apr 28, 2009 12:48 am

AbleSea member: adamlewis2009

Adam’s Autobiography.

Ages: 5-7
When I was just five years old, I was introduced to disposable diapers for the first time when my mother took me over to a friend who had two twin daughters that were eight years old. They wet the bed too, and occasionally their pants too during the day. The two twins introduced me to the diapers that they wore and even showed me one that each of them had worn the night before. These diapers came in a box and the diapers were REALLY, really thin.

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I was handed one and asked to try to put it on. I told the twins that I didn’t know how. So both of them pulled my pants down, took off my underwear and then while one lifted me up, the other one holding the diaper, opened it up and slid it under me. Then the one that had lifted me up laid me back down onto the diaper. Then the one twin, who had slid the diaper under me, pulled the diaper up between my legs and then fastened the tapes. Then, all three of us played a game of “house” for the rest of the time, in the backyard, in their clubhouse that was built for them, and on a blanket.
The house I was at is on 4Th Street (in Tucson, AZ) four houses to the east of 4th Avenue on the right side. There was an alley right next to the house too. The house was between this place, (See picture below)

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..and this place. If you see this place, go back one street to the south then make a left onto 4th street then look to the right side and then there should be a house that is RIGHT next to an alley. That…was the house that I was at, at the time. (approximately at 418 E 4th Street is where this house is, it is the one on the south side of the street with the rock wall around the front yard and the five orange trees in front.)

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Then, the two mothers, mine and the twins’ mother came outside to say that it was time to go and that I have to get my stuff together. Well, one of the twins shouted from the clubhouse that they’d help me get my stuff ready in a few minutes and be downstairs in a few minutes. Then once our two mothers went back inside, the twins walked me back into their room and helped me put my underwear back on and my pants back on then my shoes too. Then, they both walked me back downstairs to meet MY mother who was standing by the door, talking to the twins’ mother. I gave each of the twins a hug goodbye and then my mother and I got back into our green 1979 Volvo 242 DL and drove away.
Needless to say I was still wearing the diaper that they had put on me the whole way home. I have NO idea if my mother wanted me to do this or if this play date was just a way to show me what wearing a diaper was like, or…even if the whole thing was set up to show me how to put on a diaper. I then got home that evening and my mother took me right to my room and then got me ready for bed. She helped me get undressed and then she saw the diaper on me. My mother reacted for an instant and then she changed her reaction. Then she helped me into bed and then pulled the covers up over me before kissing me goodnight. The next day was a Saturday and I guess it was shopping day. I got up that morning to a perfectly dry bed. Then my mother asked me how I slept and I said, “better than I had in a LONG time” She said “Good! Did you get that THING off of you yet?” I told her that I couldn’t because I don’t know how. So she took me back to my room and took the tapes off and then let the soaking wet diaper fall to the ground. Then, she gave me a pair of formerly wet underwear that I had on the day before. She then told me to hurry up and get into the kitchen and eat because she was taking me shopping with her. My mother looked and seemed a little frustrated and stompy. She was acting like she was in a hurry. So I ate and then put my dish in the sink. Then I went back to my room to put my shoes on. I put my shoes on and then I walked out to the back yard of MY house and out to the back near the garage where my mother was waiting in the Volvo. I got into the car’s backseat, where I usually sat, and then we zoomed off. We went to the Rincon Market first, and then we went off to some OTHER store I’d never been to yet. My mother took me by my right hand and then we both walked into that store together.
Once inside, my mother took me down to the diaper isle and then she went to buy a box of diapers. She had NO idea what size to buy because she had always used cloth diapers and had NEVER, EVER used “these paper diapers” before. My adoptive mother was a hippy and she was a vegetarian too. So, my mother asked some one in the store about the diapers and what size to buy. She told that person that they were for me. Then once that person showed her the right size, my mother took the box to the cashier to pay for the box of diapers.

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Once she paid for them, my mother took me by the hand and guided me back out to our 1979 Volvo 242 DL in the parking lot. Once I got in, she then handed me the box of diapers to hold until we got home.

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Our car looked JUST like this (above)

only it was green like this one (below)

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Then, once we got home, we both took turns going out to the car to get a bag of groceries from the car. The last trip, I had to go out to the car and get the box of diapers to bring inside. Once I had taken the box out of the car, my mother came out to see if there were any more groceries in the car that needed to be brought in. Then she locked the car and we both went inside. Once inside, my mother told me to give her the box of diapers while I went to my room while she put the diapers away and then put the groceries away too.
Once my mother got the groceries put away, she seemed like she was in some sort of huff over having to put me into diapers again. She came to my room and began to lay me down on my bed, which at the time, was the lower bunk. Then, she kept saying things like “Do you like this? Huh, Huh? You like being treated like a baby?! As she took my clothes off and threw them all to the wooden floor in the bedroom. Then, once she got the diaper on me, she told me that I was to stay in this room all night until it was time to get up again. So I did as I was told. Then when dinner was ready, my mother called me to the kitchen where the dinner table was. “broccoli again?” I whined. “Yep! You had better eat ALL of it too or YOU can go to bed without it!” she said in a VERY stern Voice! (In retrospect, I don’t really think that she knew what she was truly doing to me both emotionally or mentally either.)Then once I was done and I had put my empty plate into the sink my mother told me to go to bed. Then I shuffled my way to the bedroom. I stopped and asked my mother if she was going to change my diaper at all tonight? ‘She said “No! You are going to stay in that wet thing until you don’t like it any more! Go TO BED, NOW! She barked sternly. I then turned and went to bed and the whole night I spent fighting the real bad burning feeling that I learned later was both the wetness and prickly heat. I woke up the next morning and got out of bed. My mother was still asleep in her room, the master bedroom, (at 521 North Treat Avenue in Tucson, AZ.)
So I got up and went out to the back yard to play until my mother got up, which usually was after 10:00 am on weekends, that is if she didn’t have one of her migraine headaches! Any way, at some point my mother got up and looked for my brother and I. She found me playing in the dirt hole in the middle of the yard where I frequently played with my toy cars. “Get in here right now! You aren’t even dressed yet! Come in RIGHT now and get dressed!” she firmly demanded. So I dropped what I was doing and went right inside. Then my mother told me to go to my room and stay there until she told me to come out. Then I did what she told me to and went right to my room. She found my brother out riding his bike, as usual, around the neighborhood and down the alley.
My brother wasn’t there most of the time and was always on his bike, visiting with friends in the neighborhood or at their houses. I…on the other hand was kept in the yard about 90 percent of the time. I’ve asked why she did this to me, keeping me in the yard so much, but all I get are some lame assed excuses. Not real, valid reasons. Any way, once I was in the bedroom that I shared with my younger brother, my mother came in holding a diaper and then she made me lay back on my bed so that she could change my diaper. While she was taking the wet one off of me, she told me that I was going to have to take a bath first before I was going to be PUT back into another diaper. My mother was acting like she was totally disgusted that she had to do this for me once again. Then, she made me go into the bathroom in the hallway and wait for her to get the water ready for me to take a bath. Once the tub had filled, I got into the water where I was given some water toys to play with. Then, about an hour or so later, I was told to get out and then I was then told to go to my room. Once I had been dried off, she firmly told me to lay down on my bed while she diapered me in a VERY disgusted fashion. Then, she said, you MUST like being treated like a baby, so if you act like one, I am going to TREAT you like one. No more going out with friends, no more big boy toys, no more big boy privileges until I don’t have to do this for you any more and you start acting like a boy who is your age, should act. (at least something to that effect) I began to cry because that meant that I wasn’t going to be allowed to ride my bike, go out of the yard, or have ANY of my neighborhood friends over or even get to go to any of their houses during this time.
I sobbed and talked back because I wanted SO badly to be able to go out of the yard like my younger brother could…even if he was grounded. Boy! Was my mother softer on my younger brother than she was on me!
Ages: 8-10. By the time I had reached this age, I was wearing diapers only at night.
I would have one put on me at bed time and then it was taken off while getting ready for school. When my mother ran out of disposable diapers, she used my old cloth diapers stuffed into my underpants to hold them on. When I turned 9 or 10, my brother, my mother and I were just coming home from an open-mic night at some coffee house in the university area when three black men followed us home in their car and then when we got home, they canvassed the area before they kicked our back door down and then held my mother in the bathroom while each of them raped her! Both of us kids were in our bedroom when this happened. The criminals really messed my mother up, badly….she even had a mental breakdown after that and had to seek treatment. My brother and I were handed over to my father for a few days maybe a week, maybe a month, hell I really am having a hard time uncovering that time frame in my mind. Lots and lots of trauma back then. It was also during this time, that my mother and father were just filing for divorce and had been separated for over a year or two already.

Age: 10-13.

It was during this time that my younger brother and I kept being shipped back and forth during the break up of my mother and father’s marriage. My father started to date someone that would later become my stepmother. She owned and drove an old VW Carmen Ghia convertible at the time. My father drove and owned a 1981 light-blue and dark Metal flake two-toned F-100 pickup that he had purchased at Clyde Wandsely’s in Tucson, Az. He and my step mother raced each other to my dad’s mother’s house, my awesome grandmother, where we met every Wednesday for dinner.
My dad was well ahead of us on 5th street near Columbus. Once he got to Columbus first, he drifted his pickup around the corner like a pro. He took off burning rubber and really smoking the rear tires off! LOL! MAN! That was SO fun to watch with the convertible top down!
When we arrived in the Convertible Carmen Ghia, He was smugly standing there in his mother’s driveway….waiting for his kids and his date to show up.
My father dated this woman for a good two more years until sometime after Christmas when the two of them announced that they were getting married in June of 1986.

It was the summer of 1986, around June when my mother and my younger brother were getting ready to move out of our house and go to Portland Oregon after the house was sold. My mother and Father made arrangements for my brother to go to Portland, Oregon while I was to stay there in Tucson, AZ with my father and stepmother to be.
My father and his girlfriend of one year were getting married that month and were going to go on their honeymoon. They needed to find a place that I could stay while they were away, so my stepmother called a friend of hers who had a 2 and a half year-old baby girl in diapers. She called her because she would be experienced in child rearing and might be tolerant of my bed wetting and pants wetting if it happened again.
The day that I was to go and stay with this lady friend of my stepmother's, my stepmother packed my suitcases then took me over to her house and left me there in a hurry so that my dad and she would not be late for their plane. I was then escorted into the house and into the nursery, the only extra space that they had for me to stay in. As the lady took my suitcases and unpacked them, she asked if there was anything that I needed to tell her about myself. (As though she already knew about my problems) I told her that I occasionally wet the bed and my pants. She told me that she didn't want to risk me wetting the bed I was sleeping in, so she suggested that I wear some of her daughter's Pampers diapers just to be sure. (This was the times that Pampers came in a blue cardboard box and not in a bag)

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These diapers were really thick and crinclely. They also had a blue waistband on them and would clump up when wet.
So after she was done unpacking my stuff, she told me that she was going to be the one that was going to diaper me from now on. I didn't need to worry about trying to put them on myself, because it was no problem at all to change them for me. She told me that she would check and or change them almost the same time that she changed her daughter's diapers.

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Then she asked me to hop up onto the changing table. I reluctantly did so. Then she took my shoes off, then unbuttoned my pants and pulled them down and then off. She tossed my pants into a corner of the room where she tossed her daughter's dirty clothes. Then she pulled my underwear off and tossed them into the corner as well. Then she flipped my shirt up then went over to the box of diapers and got one out. She opened it up and then lifted me up so that she could slide the diaper under me.
She then got some powder and shook some into the diaper and onto me. Then she pulled the diaper up between my legs and fastened the tapes on each side. She then went and got a pair of shorts to put on me from the dresser that she put my clothes in.
Once she was done putting my shorts on, she told me to go and play for a while until lunch.
It wasn't until after lunch that she asked me to come over and let her check to see if I was wet or not. She pulled back the elastics in my shorts and told me that it was ok, and not to be ashamed while she pulled back the waistband a little so that she could see inside. She couldn't see very well so she pulled my shorts down and inserted her index finger into the leg elastics to feel for wetness.
I wasn't wet enough to change me yet, so she pulled my shorts up and let me go back to playing for a short while.
About half an hour later, she and her boyfriend told me that they needed to go to the store and get some more diapers, and some other groceries. So after she got her infant daughter ready, I was readied to go out.
Then we all piled into their 1979 Toyota corolla station wagon and went to the store.
They first went to the baby isle and they picked out two boxes of pampers diapers, some baby powder, and some more Huggies wipes. Then they went around and got some milk, eggs, cheese, bread, pancake mix, and some juices. Then we paid and left.
After we got back and unpacked the groceries, the lady took me into the nursery and helped me up onto the changing table. She had noticed the wet spots in my shorts where my diaper had leaked a little. She then pulled my shorts off, then she unfastened the tapes then she lowered the front of my diaper with a wiping motion. Then she opened the new container of wipes and wiped me down, depositing each used wipe into my diaper. Then she took the diaper with all of the wipes in it and just tossed it into the tall, 32 gallon Rubbermaid trashcan that was in the nursery.
Then she opened the new box of Pampers diapers and took one out. She unfolded it and then slid it under me. Then she took the container of powder and sprinkled some into the diaper and onto me. Then she pulled the diaper up between my legs and fastened the tapes.
Then she went to the dresser and found a pair of jeans to put on me. She then helped me down from the changer and asked me to put my jeans on.
After I was fully dressed, she left the nursery and got her daughter so that she could changer her diaper.
After she was done, she washed her hands and went into the living room to watch TV. I also went to watch TV.
Around four o'clock that afternoon, she made a bottle for her daughter and then asked me if I also wanted anything to drink. I told her yes. Then she told me what they had to offer. I opted for whole white milk. She then went to the kitchen and poured me a tall glass of cold whole white milk.
Then she began to fix dinner.
Around five, dinner was ready and she got everyone to sit around the dinner table.
After dinner was done, she asked if I wanted to help wash the dishes.
I went along with her request and help her in the kitchen. She was a darling to talk to. She asked me a lot of questions about how long I have been wetting my bed and how and when it all started.
Then when all of the dishes were done and everything was cleaned up, she told me that the whole family sat in front of the TV to watch a video of voted choice.
I can't remember what movie we watched, but we all sat down for 90 minutes and watched the movie.
It was over late, and then once the movie was over,
The lady got her daughter bathed and then dressed for bed. Then she told me to come into the bathroom so that I could take a bath before I went to bed. She asked me to feel the water that she was drawing for me to see if it was too hot or not. She adjusted it a little then she began to take my clothes off and then my diaper, which was still mostly dry.
She stripped me naked then asked me to get into the tub. Then she told me where everything was, the soap, the shampoo and the conditioner and such before she left the room so I could take my bath. She told me that if I needed anything, all I had to do was call her.
After I was done, I got out and called her. Then she helps me dry off, and then she brought me back into the nursery where she helped me up to the changer and began to diaper me for bed. Then she asked me if I wanted to sleep in a shirt or not. I told her I didn't like to wear a shirt to bed in hot weather like there is in Arizona.
So she left me in just my diaper. Then she helped me down and then helped me into bed. She then tucked me in and then turned the light off. She left a nightlight on then closed the door slightly.
Around 1:00 am the next morning, her daughter began to cry. Her mother came in dressed in her night gown to check her diaper, and give her a bottle.
She then woke me up and uncovered me to check my diaper for wetness. I was of course wet, so she got me up onto the changer to change my diaper. Then she helped me back into bed.
She woke me up around 8:00 am that morning for pancakes and eggs.
After we all ate, she took her daughter and me into the nursery to change our diapers.
She asked me if I had to go # 2, and then she took my diaper off and let me go.
Then when I was done, she re-diapered me, and then put a t-shirt on me. She told me that I could stay dressed like this until there was somewhere to go.
This was the way things were for five or six weeks until my new stepmother and my dad got back.
When they got back and my stepmother found out all of the details, my stepmother went straight to another friend of hers who was a pediatric psychologist. Her friend suggested that my stepmother continue what her other friend had started. She suggested that my stepmother put me back into diapers full time and that she be the only one to change my diapers, like a helpless baby would have done for them. She said if he wants to wear diapers like a baby, treat him like one, completely. This meant that I had to give up certain freedoms. I had to stay where I could be seen or heard at all times, that I could no longer dress myself, that I could no longer decide what I was going to eat,
or if I could go out by myself.
There were more freedoms stripped from me as well, but I just can't remember all of them right now.
Then my stepmother took me to the store to buy me some diapers and diapering supplies.
She let me pick out what brands I wanted. I picked a Purple bag of Huggies whites (thicks) and a box of Pampers overnights.

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Then my step mother then bought some baby powder, some Huggies wipes then she went to the t-shirt isle and bought some long t-shirts in white, dark blue and grey. Then we paid and left. Once we got home, she took all of the stuff into my bedroom and told me to sit on the bed until she was done putting it all away. Then she told me what her friend the psychologist had told her. Then she laid down the rules, and then told me that I no longer was a teenager, that I was a 2 year-old infant as of now and had the privileges of that age. Then she told me just what they were. Then she forced me to lie down on the bed while she stripped me down to my wet diaper that I still had on. Then she changed my wet diaper then wiped me down. Then she took out a thick Huggies diaper and began to open it up.
Then she lifted my butt while she slid the diaper under me. She then powdered me then she surprised me when she pulled out a pack of "Osco Drug" diaper doublers.

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She then inserted two of them into the diaper then pulled the diaper up between my legs, tucked the wings in on each side then fastened the tapes. Then she opened the new white t-shirt bag and took one out. She then opened it up and rolled it up so that she could put it on me.
Then she put my head through the neck hole then helped me put my arms in the shirt. Then she left the room for a second while she went and got a pair of black flip-flops for me to wear.
She told me that this was going to be the clothes I was going to wear around the house at all times, even when guests were over. Then when she was done changing and dressing me, she told me two more things…....last rule, if I ever tried to take the diapers off myself, I would get spanked, then she told me to take the trash out to the curb in the front (dressed the way I was) and then wash the dishes before dinner. I did as I was told and took the trash out to the front. As I carried the large bag of trash out, the neighbor that lived in front of us came out to check the mail. She noticed my diapered butt and then sized me up from toe to head. She smiled a little bit as she said hi. Then she stood there looking at me as I walked away, back into the house. She went back inside after I disappeared back into the house.
This carried on until the end of that year. Just before my birthday, (December 5th,)
I was put into a hospital ward for the developmentally delayed, where I could get the treatment my dad and stepmother said I needed.
On that hospital ward, I was kept in diapers full time and made to wear only hospital gowns scrubs, onesies, and footed sleepers. I was also made to sleep in a crib, in a room with six cribs in it, three on each side, and two changers, one on each side.

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Once in a while, when I got "an attitude" about having to wear diapers all of the time, they would restrain me in hospital restraints then shoot me up with some kind of drugs that would make me sleep for 12 hours at a time. They could keep me in restraints for up to 72 hours without a doctor's order. (They had to put anyone in restraints in diapers anyway because the hospital policies were set that way because who ever was restrained, couldn't get up to go to the bathroom. They also had to feed you by hand and spoon three times a day, as well as give out pills while I was there.)

I spent a year there before I was transferred to another hospital in Oregon. There, I was forced to sleep in a hospital bed that resembled an adult sized crib with restraints already in it if they were ever needed. Believe me; the staff there used them on me more times than I can count. I spent most of my time there either restrained or going to a group that was held on the hospital unit every day.
I was put on Haldol, Stelizine, Lithium, Elevyl (an anti Depressant), Cojenton, (Side effect medication with a set of Side effects of its own.) Benedryl, and some kind of new medication that was in its trial stages and had NOT been approved by the FDA yet, to help me sleep, and some yellow pill for my sever acne. Besides all of the meds, My doctor also prescribed Chocolate bars because of some medicinal properties of the chocolate its self. He also ordered this specialist who was part of “my medical team” back then, to collect sperm and seamen samples from me and the rest of his patients to see how the meds were effecting our growth in the sexual region. The manner in which the samples were collected from the three males that were also lying in diapers and cribs in the same room I was in, seemed a little bit wrong. This one Nurse had to “stimulate” us sexually in order to extract the specimens because they didn’t either want to use another method for fear that it might damage us, or they didn’t have that technology back then. It was usually done three times per week, and always during diaper changes, either at night or first thing in the morning. It wasn’t like the nurse who was doing the extractions was enjoying it.

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It was done a certain way by pressing on the prostate gland which pretty much made the sample come out faster and with a lot of intensity. You don’t want to know how the nurse had to access the prostate gland. You can research that on the internet, by asking a doctor, or asking a nurse. I was restrained a lot because I hate needles and had to have my blood drawn a lot because of the meds I was on.
The unit I was on had a reward system, where if all of us were good for a week, we all got to be taken over to the cafeteria, to eat “off the unit”. We were still dressed in our diapers, but they through on either a scrub top or put on some flip-flops, or we were all dressed on onesies that had the name of the hospital and the unit’s name and a patient number printed in bold, black ink, across the back. Anyone who was there, could see our diapers if they wanted to see them. We also had mandatory outings from time to time, and while we were out, there was one tech assigned to each person on that unit, so that this tech could change our diapers, care for any wounds, and feed us our snacks.
It was never embarrassing to have our diapers changed on a blanket, spread out on the grass, right there in public. My tech, just told me to come over to her and turn around.
She would then drop my pants, unbutton my onesie or flip up my t-shirt, and proceed to thoroughly check my diaper for signs of wetness. When and if it WAS wet, she would lay me down on my back, on the blanket, and begin taking my clean diaper out of the diaper bag that she was assigned to carry. She took out the hospital grade wipes, and some of the Pampers with the blue waist shield and a few of the long, thick hospital grade feminine pads, the ones with no plastic backing to be used as a diaper doubler. The diaper doubler would stick out at the back and a little at the front, but would certainly do its job as a diaper doubler. My tech would then unfasten each tape on my Hospital Grade Pampers diapers, and pull my diaper down. She would then open the wipes and wipe me down thoroughly, being extra careful around my genitals, to get them extra clean.
Then she would pull my diaper out from under me and lay it open, next to me. Then she would unfold and open the wings of my clean diaper, and then slip it under my bottom. She would then take the thick, hospital grade feminine pad, and insert it into my diaper to use as an extra absorbency pad. Then she would shake a little powder into my diaper and onto me before she pulled my diaper up and fastened the tapes. She would then refasten the snaps in my onesie with the hospital’s name and the unit’s name and my patient number stamped or printed on the back of it, then she would pull my pants back up and fasten the snap and pull the zipper back up. There were a few times that my tech would need to put lotion on me at a diaper change. Now that, I am not really able to recall, just how it felt. With all of those medications flowing through my veins, all at once, I did little more than lie there, and roll around a little. I could barely keep my eyes open and if I could even walk, I could barely keep my balance. I pretty much was bedridden most of the time I was in these hospitals, especially the one in Oregon. With all of the sponsored medications or the corporate pharmaceutical investors that the hospital had at the time, I felt a little more like a human lab rat, with all of the undercover trials, and experimental techniques, and experimental chemicals that were being force fed, to me, and the fact that I could do little to resist or rebel without so much as either a needle prick putting my lights out, or the fact that I was so medicated that I couldn’t fight back at all.
My Doctor also recommended four blood draws and several semen collections per week due to all of the collective medications I was taking at one time. The doctor that over saw my care and his entire medical staff, omitted information on my medical records that would give light to all of their questionable dealings with the pharmaceutical companies and all of the actual events that occurred within the walls of this hospital from hell.
My Medical files from that time and place have tons of gaps in information, as though certain information was censored to protect themselves and their investors at that time.
My medical records reflect one thing, and my experiences reflect another. There was a lot of experimental techniques being tried out, and there were at least 5 pharmaceutical companies Sponsoring the units there at that hospital, that were using us to test their newest meds on. My Doctor was going to send me to the Oregon State Hospital (OSH-Where “one flew the coockoo’s nest” was filmed/Took Place) because I wasn’t responding to their treatments, according to him and his staff members. and I was going to need “ongoing” care. My Mother agreed with the doctor at that time and told him to go ahead with his plans.
The doctor was forcing his recommendations on me, and moving forward at a feverish pace, trying to make sure that I was admitted there at the OSH. My father thought against these wishes and decided to intercept me and bring me down to Tucson instead.
I spent two years of my life at Cedar Hills Hospital before I was taken to yet another one in Tucson called Desert Hills Hospital or as it is called today, after they moved some number of years ago….Desert hills for youth and Family. There I was slowly taken out of diapers and educated year round. I was forced to take strong medications and made to do a set number of chores every day.
back in 1990, after I got out of Desert Hills Hospital, I was given back up for full adoption by my adoptive father who told me that he couldn't have me living with him or my family any more and he couldn't deal with me any more. So he put me back into the Arizona Foster care system which placed me with this family which had this big, burly guy named John Abernathy, and his two foster kids. This guy virtually made me his cleaning slave. He made me and my roomy pick up tiny little pebbles in the back yard on our hands and knees and put them into a bucket. I finally told my case worker this, and she spoke to him about it. After she left, he got sooo mad, that he grabbed me and body slammed me to the floor then landed on top of me. I weighed a mere 110 or so and he weighed about 300lbs.
He Jumped on top of me with his elbow out ready to jab me in the gut. I rolled out of the way and then grabbed the nearest thing I could find, a six foot all brass lamp stand then swung it down on him.
I hit him squarely on the forehead then I swung again after he tried to get back up and hit him across the back of the neck with the base of the lamp. I then dropped the lamp stand then ran out of the house with him in tow. I ran so fast but it still wasn't fast enough. I whipped around the corner and headed for a very public area, the corner of Drexel rd and Campbell Ave in Tucson (see Google earth for more details) He stopped his pursuit knowing that some one would see him brutalizing me. I ran straight to the nearest pay phone where I called my case worker and told her what had happed after she left. She told me that I HAD to go back because he had my Custody. She would change that first thing in the morning. She also told me that if it got too bad I had the RIGHT to call the police. I then told her that John had body slammed me to the cement and that I didn't feel safe going back there. She then asked me to go to a meeting place at Campbell and Glenn (**see Google earth for more details on locations) by morning so that she could pick me up on her way to her office. I made it there and then waited there until she arrived. I went back to her office and we talked about what had happened and got to the facts at hand. She then called my father who at first told her that he had no further interest in me and that I was now HER responsibility now. She then rebutted what had happened and he told her to call him at a later time. She then had no other option but to try and take me back to John's house where the incident occurred. As she and I pulled up to the house, John, Marcus and Louis were just pulling out of the drive way. She stopped him to ask where he was headed. He told her that the three of them were going out to dinner and then on a
road trip to phoenix. What we didn't know was that they had packed up everything that they needed and put it into the back of the panel van and were leaving to escape the Law.
She went and opened his house and we found out that they had taken almost everything but the couch, the beds, and the dinning room table and the lamp that I had used to hit him with.
The rest of the house was bare. There was no way that we were going to be able to find him ever again. This is when I was sent to phoenix to another program in Phoenix that is now out of business called LDI. (Life development Institute) there, they tried to give me my GED and made me go to school. They also taught me life skills, like how to keep an apartment, budget money for food, rent, bills and the like. I also wore diapers there too and was made fun of most of the time. All of the people that were enrolled in the program had disabilities of some kind too. So, everyone was told of my problem and they were told NOT to make fun of me due to the fact that anyone found doing so would be expelled and sent to a group home. Then the program started to run low on funds and they started to find places for everyone to go to. I was sent to a boarding home called A-1 Guest lodge were I spent 8 months before being sent to yet another boarding home. There, I got my own room that had another hospital bed that resembled an adult sized crib. They also required me to wear adult diapers to protect the health of the other residents as per state law. They also required that a nurse change my diapers in a nursing station that had a special bed that was used to change everyone.
This was also where I had to get my medications.
Then, after a while I got my first S.S.I check which was over $8,000 dollars. I owed a few bills so I paid them. Then I bought an old 1978 Ford LTD two-door hard top with a 351 Cleveland motor in it. It was an old man's car and he was going to die soon, so his son and daughter decided to sell it. So I found their add in the want adds and called them. They brought the car to me so that I could test drive it and look it over. It was meticulously taken care of and had all of the records and the original owner's manual in the glove compartment. They only wanted $450 for the car, so I paid them and they signed the pink slip (title) over to me. Then I went and changed it over to my name. I then proceeded to get my driver's license and the insurance and tags. I then drove the car back to the boarding home, packed my stuff then left for Tucson, AZ, 120 miles away.
Once I got there, I contacted my father. He was a little surprised to see me and wondering how I got there. I told him that I drove my car. He then went outside and looked at the car I had purchased.
My brother soon joined him then once he saw my car, called it a "hoopty" It really wasn't a bad car at all. It ran like a brand new car, and the interior wasn't all dried up and cracked at all.
It was all original and even had three hundred dollars worth of work done to it to replace the alternator, all of the belts, the oil changed and brand new tires all the way around, including a new spare in the trunk. The car only needed a new stereo. I eventually bought one of the latest ones to put in it. It was a cool car to drive until the gas started to go up in price. Then I decided to sell it so that I could get another car that was more fuel efficient. I got $1000 dollars for that car, and then went out and some one offered me a $20.00 1972 Pinto with a sunroof from the factory. I decided to buy it since it was so cheap. the car was not in that bad of a shape any ways, so I just began to fix up the missing parts that it needed like the grill needed to be replaced, the front bumper needed to be replaced and a few interior parts needed to be replaced. The seats were replaced with newer model seats, the engine needed a tune up, new belts, and some timing before it would pass emissions. I worked on it for a week until I got it completed. This car even had new shocks and struts when I was done.
The only good thing I like about it was that it would only take 20 dollars to fill up every two weeks, ten one week and then ten the next. I went everywhere in it.
Then I saw another one that was way newer and in showroom condition. It turned out that the owners wanted to sell it for their son who was now in the military.
I bought it for $500 dollars then drove it home. I now had two Pintos and I only needed one. So I sold the first one for $ 600 dollars to a racecar driver who turned it into a factory stock race car.
I then had the race car driver sell me a hopped up 2300 cc engine that had Chevy truck pistons in it and was built for the race track as one of the many back up motors. I put that motor into my car and even switched out the rear axel for one that had come out of his race car.
By now, my car began to really go fast. I was keeping up with normal V8 motors and giving them a run for their money. Then one day, I told the race car driver how I ranked in one of the races I had been in and he decided to come and try his luck using his track car. He surprised a lot of people when he blew an 11 second run using only a few mods. Later on that same month, he showed up in a factory stock Mustang 2 using the same engine configuration he used on the circle track.
He challenged a Chevy Vega with a V8 in it and won by a bumper at 9:53 times.
He used these races to test out his new engines and as a result, began to win the races on the circle tracks. He thanked me by giving me unlimited parts for my street pinto and his old racing engines. He would even help me put them into my car.
Any way, Ever since I struck out on my own, which technically, that was when I was taken to my first hospital and then through both of the boarding homes and the “being given up for adoption” prior to that, I’ve had to discern right from wrong…all on my own. I spent a ton of time at local libraries, making and networking friends, and on the street, I was taught how to walk through a VERY drug-ridden neighborhood without being even bothered. I’ve had MY share of unscrupulous friends and acquaintances, that….is for SURE! But NOTHING and I mean NOTHING compared to the active gang activities that my own adoptive brother went through as a teen. Our adoptive mother wasn’t quite the same after she got raped by those three black men back in 1984-1985.
She just couldn’t get herself together enough back then, to really take an active interest in caring for and about any of her kids, that meaning my younger brother and I. My mother still claims that she did her very best, well, if she really had, none of this would have happened now would it? Ok then. Well, this is pretty much where I am today…I have a wonderful, bright, lovable, cute seven-year-old son named Evan William Lewis, who I can’t see until November or longer, and I am living all alone, in a one bedroom apartment in Colorado Springs in Village Seven across the street from an urgent care facility.
I am still technically still married because when I filed for divorce, my estranged soon-to-be ex wife, didn’t want to and or refused to accept the papers being served to her. So, the case was dropped and now I have to re-file again! If this happens again, I will have to pay over $200 to file the papers and then I might even end up paying child support, but if I am lucky, I might get her to pay ME alimony. I hope that the alimony cancels out some of the child support in the due process…hehehehe doubtful though.

Thanks for reading my horror stories about my life.
They were all true and I live them through. I am a better person, knowing what I’ve been through and where I am currently headed.

I can be found on Windows Live Messenger as: adamcharleslewis@msn.com or adamlewis2008@live.com
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