First time enema(s) from my Bride

We married a year after my first deployment in the Army and I was in school, working a part-time job, struggling to keep up my grades so I would not lose my scholarship, and my bride took a train to the city every day to the job that paid the bills, fed us, and kept the lights on. We lived in the second floor of a small house on a quiet street with no AC, no dishwasher, no washer/dryer – but we managed and got by pretty well. Her job came with decent medical benefits, which proved their value on occasion.

As a child and later as an adolescent I was diagnosed with ‘spastic colon’ which would sometimes flare up and cause painful cramping and abdominal distress, often for no apparent reason. My mother’s go-to cure was almost always a ‘good soapsuds enema’ which often worked. In her world there was little that could not be cured by band-aids, mercurochrome, aspirin, or enemas. My episodes of spastic colon disappeared at about age 16 and all through my last years of high school my gut was OK. I assumed I had aged out of the condition. I had one episode after coming back from deployment and was sent for a barium enema which proved inconclusive but the episodes did go away – for a while.

In our second year of marriage, the pressure of school, part-time job, and my fluctuating grades brought my spastic colon back with a vengeance. I reluctantly saw a doctor – the same one our family used for years and he prescribed “Donnatal” for the spasms. It made me so loopy I could not drive or concentrate on my work, so I didn’t take them after the first few. A second episode sent me back to the doctor who agreed it was probably spastic colon but I should go for another barium enema to confirm there was not something more serious going on. I told the doctor that for my previous BE I had to drink a gallon of Golytely that made me so sick I would not repeat the test. He said he would give me an alternative prep that was easier on the stomach, but required enemas. A date was scheduled and I was sent home with a detailed instruction sheet and a list of things to purchase at the pharmacy. On the preparation instruction sheet my doctor had crossed out the lines on the ‘Morning of the test’ list that said, “Take two enemas at least two hours before leaving for the test” and substituted in pen, “Take enemas until clear returns.” He told me the gastroenterologist was very adamant about being clear this time (last time I was not well prepped!) and he would re-schedule your test if your bowel was not sufficiently prepped and you would be charged for a missed appointment.

Sufficiently scared by his admonition I told my bride about the upcoming test and showed her the prep instructions:

Day before the test: No solid food for 24 hours; only clear liquids, gelatin, or popsicles; at 4PM take the laxative tablets with water, 6PM drink the Phospho-Soda; if no loose watery stools by 8PM drink the second Phospho-Soda; after 10PM take a tap-water enema: nothing by mouth after midnight.

Morning of the test: Nothing by mouth except sips of water to take prescribed medications; take two tap-water enemas at least two hours before leaving for the test. Bring your referral from your doctor with you. I showed her where my doctor had made his notation about “enemas until clear returns” and said I had never heard of that. She had worked in the county nursing home as a nurse’s aide and said it meant no trace of stools could be seen in the toilet after the enema and you had to keep doing enemas until the water was clear coming out. Then she said, “You’ll see!” Except for a couple of enemas my wife had to take for an IVP test a year before, neither of us had had an enema at home since we were married.

The day before the test I attended class, but my mind was elsewhere. I was really hungry, too and lemon Jello was just not making it! I got home, took the tablets, drank the Phospho-soda, went to pick her up at the train and just made it home before I exploded! Loose watery stools? I think I saw food from 1967 leaving my bowels! I opted out of the second bottle of liquid nitroglycerine since I certainly was having loose stools. At 10 PM my bride announced, “Babe, it’s time for your enema!” Until then, I had no idea she planned to give me the enemas for the prep. As I said, they were never a subject, although both of us had enemas growing up. She went off the kitchen, first stopping at the linen closet where she fetched the ‘Comfy’ combination syringe we purchased for her own prep for the IVP test a year before. She had to take two enemas, with my help, for her test prep – and had been miserable about it – so I didn’t know why she seemed so cheerful about my test!

I heard her at the kitchen sink running water and heard her sloshing the bag before I heard the unmistakable CLICK of the steel clamp and could hear a trickle of water in the sink. She arrived back in the living room, full enema bag in hand one hand and the looped red hose and white nozzle in the other hand and said, “Babe, what are you waiting for, into the bathroom with you!” I groaned a bit at the thought but complied. I shed my jeans and she asked, “How do you want to do this? Over the tub? On the floor? You won’t fit over my lap!” I told her it would be easiest if I bent over the tub like when I was little. She said, OK, then.” She spread a towel on the floor and told me, “The underwear will have to come off, too!” She looped the cord used to hang the bag over the shower head and hung the bag about two feet above me as I kneeled over the tub rim.

She fetched the Albolene cream we used as a lubricant (Its very slippery but looking back it really was a crummy sex lube!) and put a glob on the nozzle and swiped a fingerful across my pucker. She spread my cheeks with one hand and slipped the nozzle in without fanfare and with a CLICK she opened the clamp. Wow! A rush of heat hit me and I jumped, unseating the nozzle, squirting solution onto my legs and the floor. She quickly stopped the flow and said, “What’s the matter with you? It isn’t like this is first enema you’ve ever had!” I responded, “It’s hot and I didn’t expect it.” I also wondered where she got the idea that I had been given enemas before. I could see the small puddle that formed next to the towel and the water looked milky. “What is in this?” I asked. She said, “It’s a soapsuds enema. Your mother told me she always gave you a big soapy enema to clean you out so I fixed up a soapsuds enema.” I moaned – my mother ALWAYS overshared my ailments, even with my then-girlfriend. Now I knew where she learned of my personal history with enemas!

I said the prep instructions said a tap-water enema, not soapsuds. She said, “you said you had to be squeaky clean or they’ll send you home. This ought to help get you going!” Then she re-inserted the nozzle, opened the clamp once again but this time held the hose in place with her hand. After a minute or so I told her I was full and she said, “You’ve barely taken a third of the bag. You need to take it all for it to work. Try laughing – it’s what my mother told me to do if cramps came when she gave me enemas.” I really did try, but I told her I would explode and nuke the bathroom if I had to take any more. She reluctantly stopped the flow and I think I levitated to the toilet. She left me to my business and whatever I had eaten in the last four months made an appearance in the bowl! After several bouts and flushes I emerged a lesser man. She retrieved the half-full enema bag and went to the kitchen again. More running water and she was back with the bag full again. “You should try to take all of this or you won’t be cleared out tomorrow.” I was concerned our downstairs neighbors would be concerned with all the flushing!

So, back into the bathroom, back in the position, and we were off to the races again. In some situations, an enema has a definite arousing effect upon me, but between the laxative tablets, the horrid drink, and the soapy enema, I had no ‘hard feelings’ towards my bride. She did manage to get most of that second bag into me before I pleaded for relief. After that I cleaned up and went to bed, interrupted by a couple of trips to the john for episodes of minor explosions through the night.

5:30 AM came earlier than ever before when my bride told me we needed to start the ‘morning of the test’ prep enemas if we were to be done 2 hours before leaving at 9AM - and went off the fill the bag. I shouted after her, “NO SOAP!!” I headed to the bathroom and could produce nothing more after my night on the throne. My lovely bride appeared in the bathroom door with that bulging red bag and said, “OK Darlin’ no soap! Just warm tap-water. We better get started.” She hung the bag, this time, a bit lower than last night. The Albolene cream came out and was again applied to both the nozzle and its target between my cheeks. This time she asked, “Are you ready, Babe?” and I nodded. She opened the clamp and held the nozzle implanted in my butt. With her free hand she rubbed my back and told me how important this test was and how she was sure I was fine like last time, but the test had to be done. The back rub, the warm water, the nozzle was having an unintended effect on me. I had a growing erection which was very evident from where she knelt behind me! “I see you’re really hating this, aren’t you?” She joked. “The nurses said that happens a lot when they gave men enemas.” The water was flowing in so slowly at this point, so she lifted the bag higher and said, “Just a little more to go!” About a week later the bag gurgled, signaling it was finally empty. “You should try to hold it for a couple of minutes,” said my bride. You could have held back the Johnstown Flood more easily!

I was surprised. After laxative pills, nuclear super-flush liquid, three enemas and a thousand trips to the bathroom, I still had solids bursting from me. My bride came in, looked in the bowl, picked up the bag and headed for the kitchen. Once again she appeared armed with the reloaded enema and said, “JD, Let’s get this done, we don’t have a lot of time.” This time she hung the bag at the height she had it when she raised the last bag. This session went much quicker when I heard the sucking sound of an empty bag and full bowel. She put her hand on the small of my back and said, “Hold it and let it work.” I really did try. I really did, but gravity and hydraulic pressure won and I jumped for the toilet. After passing my tonsils, adenoids, and wisdom teeth, I looked in the john and saw brown flecks and muddy water. To this my bride said, “Kiddo, we’re doing another soapsuds enema. You have to be cleaned out.”

I asked her how she knew so much about soapsuds enemas she told me, “The nurses gave SSE’s all the time in the old folks home. Sometimes I got to help if they were shorthanded since I was the oldest aide. I only held up the metal cans they used to give enemas. Almost all of them were made with soap added. And they REALLY worked!”

She added, “Hey, I know you got them, too! Remember, I came to see you when you were so sick with the flu and your mother told me she gave you soapsuds enemas when you were blocked up. She said you got a lot growing up. It seemed like you were always over her lap for a clean out! So, you know they work!”

Third time is supposed to be a charm, but in this case, the result was still yellow returns with flecks of solids and of course, the suds. We were supposed to finish by 7AM but by now it was 7:45AM and I said, “it will have to do.” She said, “OK, I’m willing to keep doing this until you’re clean, but if your mind is made up, and you think this is good enough, don’t blame me if they send you home.” With that I surrendered to the guilt, and she administered another warm two-quart rinse. Four complete enemas were more than I had ever experienced in one session and I had not even gotten to the barium enema yet!

I showered, dressed and we drove to the imaging center where we waited for another 45 minutes before I was called. My bride bent to me and whispered, “We would have time for another enema!” I was called to the desk and the nurse said, “Sorry, we’re a little behind today. Can you tell me why you are having a BE today? How did the prep go? Did you take the enemas this morning?” I told her about the spastic colon episodes and my doctor’s concern that it might be something more serious. I told her how hard the prep had been and that I had real trouble getting clear returns. “I had four enemas before we had to leave and there were still flecks in the water. I hope that is OK.” She asked me to describe the returns and when I described the flecks in the water, she said, “That’s considered clear enough, you don’t have to have absolutely clear water to have ‘clear returns.” Oh boy, now she tells me!

The Barium enema was very uncomfortable, especially the inflation. The tech told me I was completely satisfactorily prepped for the test and they had no problem visualizing the entire colon. When finished – no polyps, lesions, diverticula were found – basically a clean bill of health except I had “IBS”. They did say that the barium can be very constipating and to use a laxative or take an enema if I had problems passing the concrete. Just what I wanted to hear! When we got home we celebrated the diagnosis and put that previous erection to good use with a bout of great sex!

Epilogue: My bride’s apparent enthusiasm for filling me with soapsuds and warm water led to a few more enema sessions when the IBS flared. She noticed sex after an enema was pretty good since I was “Always pretty worked up!” As time passed and the children arrived her enthusiasm for giving enemas waned and became the very occasional reluctant assist when I had an episode of IBS. I took to self-administering baking soda enemas when IBS struck which produced only mediocre results. My bride would now have to be asked to help - which she did begrudgingly but would no longer prepare the bag, lube the nozzle, or my backside either. It was a truly disliked chore. As she once said after a three-enema series for IBS, “What is it with you and all these enemas? Your mother really screwed your head up! It’s not natural.”

That was until a few years ago. Something incredible happened. All of the sudden I was being asked if my gut was acting up and maybe I might need an enema to fix me up! I am unsure how or why that happened, but I am a happier camper. I can say my bride does give a great enema! Just like her first time giving me those enemas almost 50 years ago! Great memories.