chapter 18

Now Ian was above twenty stones, he was more reliant on Catherine than ever! When he finished work, she also handed in her notice. They could afford to live without either of them working.
He needed her help to wash between all his creases in the shower. His enlarged stomach prevented him from reaching forwards to put his shoes on. He could not reach to wipe his bum when he went to the toilet. It was all simple, but important tasks he needed help with.
Catherine was glad to help. She probably did more for him than she ought to, making him even more dependent on her. She did not like him getting up from his place on the sofa unnecessarily. She encouraged him to shout of her whenever he wanted anything in another room. She cursed a bit under her breath when she had to leave something on the stove, just to pick up the gaming controller that he had dropped on the floor. He didn't have to get up for it, he simply could not be bothered to stretch to reach it. Despite her cursing, this was what he wanted him to do. Eventually, he would become so lazy he would be able to do nothing for himself apart from sleep and watch tv. Even his beloved games controller was becoming more of an effort to hold because for one thing his arms were getting too heavy to lift and the other thing was his upper belly was getting in the way. His arms were simply not long enough to reach!

Still he did not stop eating and she did not stop supplying him with extra fattening foods and snacks.

By the time Christmas came round again, Ian was approaching forty stones. He needed a hoist to help him up out of bed. He could walk a little bit, but every step was an effort and he avoided it as often as he could.
Catherine fitted him with a conveen catheter so that he did not have to go to the toilet as often. This was a condom-like sheath that rolled over his flaccid penis. There was a tube at the other end, which attached to more tubing and ended in a bag, which collected all his urine, which Catherine could empty when it got full.
She had to check the conveen regularly as it was liable to come loose and leak if it was not stuck on properly. The conveen, when it worked, prevented the 'accidents' that occurred when Ian could not be bothered to get up to go to the toilet. This in turn stopped the skin between his legs getting sore as any stale urine turned to ammonia and burned the delicate tissues hidden down there.

Still she over fed him and still he overate.
It would take less than a year for him to reach the stage of complete immobility! Looking after him was too much for Catherine. She had to employ a whole team of nurses, who worked in shifts to look after him.