It was such a typical English private boarding school of the fifties. It was in an old country house which had been used as an Army hospital during the war. The owner had bought the house complete with the beds, green army lockers and the metal 'wardrobes' for hanging clothes in the upstairs rooms. The addition of desks in the lounges downstairs and blackboards had completed the conversion to a boarding school. The school took pupils from the age of five to thirteen when they would transfer to one of the lesser public schools. Many of the boys' parents were in the forces or the diplomatic corps where they were out of the country for months at a time and it was convenient to place their sons in a private school where they would be looked after, even during school holidays.

Tom's father was in the diplomatic corps and had been posted abroad. His mother had gone with him, but they had taken advice about Tom. The government's advice was that he would be better off remaining in Britain and that the government would meet the cost of his private education, board and lodgings on behalf of his parents.

Tom was twelve and the oldest in his dormitory where the children were aged from five up to thirteen, or, in Tom's case, twelve. He was expected to be in charge of 'his' dormitory by maintaining discipline and good order. Among Tom's duties were to see that each boy kept himself clean, changed his clothes regularly and that his bed was made with the clean sheets provided each week. The school had a matron, a young nurse who had trained during the war but who was now surplus to requirements now that the war was over. She had been emergency trained to care for wounded servicemen at the house where she now worked, but was not considered suitable, without further training, for the new National Health Service which had been set up in 1948. When the owner of the school negotiated to buy the house and grounds from the Army, he had offered her the job of school matron which she accepted. Her husband to be had been an RAF pilot and had been killed in action in the last week of the war. She was an only child and her parents had been killed in 1944 in a bombing raid, so she was basically alone in the world and gratefully accepted the offer of the job with its live in accommodation. Matron had a young girl from the village who helped with the cleaning and laundry and there was an elderly woman who did the cooking. Apart from the headmaster, matron was the only member of staff on duty at night. There were sixty boys in twelve bedrooms cum dormitories. Fortunately the house did have large bedrooms and each would take five Army beds, lockers, wardrobes and desks for the boys to do their homework.

The school was in Norfolk, with a small village close by where the teachers had homes with their own families, but was some distance from the nearest town and railway station. At the start of each school term, those who had gone home for the school holidays would be collected from the station by a local coach firm and driven the ten miles to the school. The nearest hospital was twenty miles away, so matron considered it part of her job to look after the boys' 'inner cleanliness' to hopefully avoid problems such as appendicitis which, in those days, was considered to be caused by constipation.

Between each of the bedrooms in the house was a bathroom shared by ten boys, so the eldest boys in each room had to ensure that the younger boys were herded in and out quickly and efficiently. In each bathroom was a bath behind a screen with a shower over the bath, three wash-hand basins and two toilet cubicles. The plumbing had been somewhat upgraded by the Army when the house had been requisitioned as a convalescent hospital in the war.

Tom hated Monday nights as that was 'his' room's night for 'treatment'. Each bed had a horse hair mattress covered with a rubber sheet, then a linen sheet, again all purchased as part of the 'package deal' when the owner purchased the house. A rubber drawsheet was pulled across the bottom sheet and covered with a double thickness linen drawsheet, top sheet and two woolen Army blankets. Some of the younger boys wet the bed at night and these boys would be put in nappies and rubber pants before bed to keep the laundry down to reasonable levels. Matron would come round before 'lights out' to put these 'wetters' into their nappies and rubbers for the night. There was a bin in each bathroom for the nappies to be placed in the morning beside a smaller one for the rubber pants which were supposed to be rinsed out before being put into the bin. That was Tom's job as senior in the dormitory to ensure that his 'wetter' washed himself properly the next morning and disposed of his nappies and rubbers in the appropriate bins.

As it was Monday night, each boy had an appropriately sized pair of amber coloured transparent natural rubber pants and nappies on the end of his bed, ready for the 'treatment, along with a jug of water and a glass on top of the locker. Matron came into the room with her trolley ready prepared. She started, as always, with the oldest in each room, Tom, who would then be expected to help her with the other boys. As it was Monday, each boy was lying in bed completely naked. Matron went over to Tom's bed and pulled back the top sheet. Tom rolled over onto his front and lifted himself off the bed on his arms and knees. Matron placed a thick pile of folded nappies under him and Tom lowered himself down. The boys on their 'treatment' night, had their nappies fastened behind them with the intention that they wouldn't try to take them off at night. Before pulling the nappies over Tom's bare bottom, she reached onto her trolley to take a glycerine suppository and dipped it into the pot of water on the trolley. With her rubber gloved finger, she inserted the suppository into Tom's rectum, violating his privacy and dignity in Tom's opinion, by doing this in plain view of the other boys. Age should have had its compensations, but they were all treated the same on Monday nights. Or rather, not quite the same, because Tom's first glycerine suppository was quickly followed by a second inserted as far as matron's probing finger could push it. His nappies were expertly pulled up around his bare bottom and fastened with pins. Tom then stood up and pulled his rubbers over his legs and nappies whilst matron made sure that all of the terry toweling was tucked inside the rubber pants to prevent leaks.

This was repeated at each of the other four beds with Tom helping matron to put the rubbers on each boy. As they were younger than Tom, the other boys had only one suppository each. They were to hold that, on pain of more vigorous treatment, until at least matron had left the room. When all of the boys were in their nappies and rubber pants, each boy stood beside his bed, covered with goose flesh as it wasn't exactly the warmest of autumn nights. On the top of matron's wheeled trolley was a large syringe with a metal nozzle, a container and small glasses of orange juice. Starting this time with the youngest, matron drew up an appropriate amount of castor oil into the syringe. The boy obediently, well used to this by now, bent his head back and opened his mouth. Tom stood behind him and pinched his nose for him whilst matron squirted the castor oil to the back of the boy's throat. Once this had been swallowed, the boy was given his glass of orange juice to try, unsuccessfully, to take away the foul oily taste. What was worst was all the boys knew that they would be spending a rather sleepless and uncomfortable night. This was done to each boy with increasing amounts of castor oil according to age with Tom getting a full four fluid ounces to swallow which was a good overdose of the powerful purgative. Matron, however, was determined to get what she called a 'good result' from each boy by the next morning. Once they'd all been dosed, they boys were allowed to get into bed. Matron wished them all a 'good night', not that they would have that with the suppositories and castor oil inside them and turned out the light as she wheeled her trolley out of their dormitory and to the second one for that night.

Once the lights were out, each boy grabbed the glass of water beside their beds and downed it quickly to try to wash the foul tastes from their mouths. This was a regular part of the Monday night routine even though they knew from previous experience that the water wouldn't remove the taste of the castor oil. By now the younger boys were squirming in their beds. They all had conflicting desires. On the one hand they wanted to expel the suppository, or two in Tom's case, which were making them so uncomfortable. On the other hand, they knew that they would be passing stool into their nappies and would be lying in it all night. Grunts and sounds of movement indicated that the boys were giving in to the irritant suppository and filling their nappies. Tom, as a matter of pride as the eldest, struggled against the twin power of his pair of suppositories until the last of the younger boys had dumped the load into his nappy. Tom laid on his back and brought his knees up and strained to push the mess into his nappies. As the oldest, he had the thickest layer of nappies as they would all be passing both urine and stool during the course of the night. Despite having used the toilet before matron's ministrations, Tom's efforts to expel the suppositories and the resulting stool also caused him to wet his nappy as well. He turned onto his side, well aware of the stool which had been forced from him and squashed against the terry toweling which matron had pulled up so tightly between his legs. Her tight diapering meant that each boy had to struggle to push the stool out past the folds of terry toweling which encased their bottoms and causing it to spread out as it did so.

Each boy struggles to relax and to go to sleep before the 'wake up call' from the castor oil disturbed their sleep again. Because Tom had received such a large dose, he was the first, as far as he knew, to wake with the violent cramps caused by the powerful purgative at work inside him. He drew his knees up and left the slimy mess out into his nappy. He involuntarily passed urine as well. Once he'd managed to expel that load, he poured himself a glass of water, drank it and settled down to try to sleep again. Three more times during the night, he was woken by the violent cramping and the need to void yet more stool. Matron certainly knew how much to give as, by the end of the night, Tom felt well and truly emptied.

At seven o'clock the next morning, Matron came into the dormitory wearing her ankle length rubber apron. Each boy got out of bed, picked up his towel and clean underwear and followed matron to the shower room. There were five shower heads along a tiled wall with a grating in the tiled floor to let the water run away and each boy took his place. There, each boy removed his rubbers and matron went round unpinning the nappies and placing them in a bucket which she carried round from boy to boy. She checked each nappy to ensure that the 'results' had been 'satisfactory' – in other words, that each nappy had been well filled that night. Woe betide nay boy whose nappy was not sufficiently messy to satisfy matron. Each boy let out an involuntary sigh as the messy and soaking wet nappies were removed. The showers were turned on and matron stood watching to ensure that each boy had thoroughly cleaned himself. Once she was satisfied, she turned the showers off and allowed the boys to dry themselves and change into their underwear by themselves.

Not every Monday night was the same. Matron didn't believe in using the same laxatives every time. The following Monday, she repeated the insertion of the suppositories, but gave each boy glass 'baby bottle' with rubber teat to drink from from on her trolley. Each boy grimaced as he drank down the very salty Epsom salts which the bottle contained. As usual, Tom had by far and away the largest amount to drink. In the middle of the night, he awoke to a gurgling inside him as the Epsom salts did their work. He laid there whilst the gurgling continued and he suddenly felt the need to empty himself. With a flood into his nappies, the osmotic laxative filled his nappies with wet stool. During the night, he drank the water provided at the side of his bed and the laxatives continued their work until, by morning, his nappies were a brown soggy mess. The following Monday, each boy had a baby bottle full of senna to drink. Matron brewed her own from senna pods and made sure that it was strong to be effective. The three laxatives were rotated – week one was castor oil, week two was Epsom salts and week three was the senna. Tom didn't mind wearing and using the nappies and rubber pants, but he hated having to suck at the bay bottle which made him feel really childish.

One Saturday in November that year, Tom woke feeling 'out of sorts' and feverish. He'd been a little constipated since the Monday clear-out and thought that he'd better report to matron before breakfast. Quietly he got up and made his way to sick bay, knocking at the door. Matron opened the door to him and asked what was the matter, although a look at Tom's flushed face showed her that this was not a well boy. She ushered him into the sick bay and put him to bed. A short while later, she returned with a tray holding a pot of Vaseline, a wipe and a rectal thermometer. Tom had been there before, so, on seeing the contents of matron's tray which she had put down on the bed beside him, he rolled onto his left side and pulled down his pyjama trousers. Matron inserted the bulb of the thermometer into the Vaseline and then into Tom's rectum. He laid there whilst the thermometer registered his body temperature. Matron removed the thermometer, wiped it clean and looked at it. "You're running a temperature, Tom, so I'll be looking after you here for a while." Matron was a very attractive young woman and Tom was getting to an age when he noticed such things. Despite the sure knowledge of what would be happening to him, he rather looked forward to matron's ministrations.

Tom guessed, correctly, what matron's next actions would be: he would get at least one enema. That seemed to be matron's main line of therapy for whatever seemed to ail the boys and, to be fair, did seem to provide the solution to virtually every illness which the boys suffered, apart from broken bones. Matron disappeared into her sluice room and Tom heard the sound of running water. A few minutes later, matron emerged wearing her ankle length green rubber apron, pushing a drip stand and also pushing a trolley loaded with equipment. She pulled the covers off Tom and gently removed his pyjamas, helping him instead into a short gown which reached to his hips. "You should be more comfortable in that and it won't get in the way," matron said to him. There was already a rubber mattress cover under the bottom sheet as well as a rubber draw sheet and linen one. She gently raised Tom's hips and slid a pad made from a large folded towel under him. Tom was asked to roll onto his left side and to draw his knees up to his chest, with his bottom near the edge of the bed, exposing his bottom to the nurse. She hung the enema can from the drip stand, having already purged the tubing of air. She greased the black rubber nozzle with Vaseline and gently inserted it into Tom's waiting anus. Matron opened the tap just by the nozzle and, as she'd only hung the enema can a little higher than Tom, the hot soapy water flowed slowly into him without causing cramping. She could see Tom's abdomen distending from the soapy enema solution but she realised that he must be feeling poorly as he wasn't complaining at all about feeling full – he was just lying there and taking it all. A gurgle from the can showed that it was time to turn off the tap as he'd had the full amount of the soapy solution.

Matron gently removed the nozzle and replaced it with a large butt plug which she'd lubricated before, ready for its swift insertion. Tom grunted a little from the discomfort as the large shaped plug stretched his anal sphincter as it was pushed into him. Matron sat beside Tom holding the plug in place whilst the soap did its task of softening the stool and irritating the mucosal lining which would cause the violent contractions to expel the enema and bowel contents. After five minutes, she picked up the white enameled steel bedpan with the blue rolled rim and placed it beside Tom's buttocks. "I'm going to pull the plug out now, Tom, then I'll help you sit on the bedpan and you can get rid of the enema for me." The plug was removed and she sat Tom up on the bedpan. She realised that she had a very poorly young man as he was quite floppy and she needed to sit behind him to support him. Tom shuddered slightly as her cold rubber apron can in contact with Tom's back. He became weaker as the effort of passing all the soapy enema took a great deal of effort. When matron felt that he'd finished, she lifted him off the bedpan and laid him back on the bed. She took the bedpan away to empty it and was concerned that Tom's stools were very pale – almost cream in colour. She guessed then what was wrong with Tom and decided that she'd better call the doctor to him.

When she returned to the bed, Tom was still lying where she'd laid him. "I'm going to put a colon tube into your bottom now, Tom, to wash out the soap for you so that it won't irritate you." She'd already lubricated the colon tube which was connected to another enema can full with just warm water. This she hung up on the drip stand and placed the enamel bucket at the side of Tom's bed. She released the clamp and made sure that the tubing was filled with water before inserting the rounded end, with the catheter eyes, into Tom's waiting anus. She released the clamp so that water started to flow into Tom's colon to dilate it as she gently, but skillfully inserted the colon tube into the poor boy. Once she was satisfied, she shut off the clamp and asked Tom to clench his buttocks tight to hold the tube there. She got some waterproof tape from her trolley and taped the colon tube securely in place up Tom's anal cleft. She guessed that, if her diagnosis was right, Tom would be needing that tube in place for some time. "OK, you can relax now, Tom. I've taped the tube in place so it won't come out." With that, matron disconnected the enema can and placed the tubing over the bucket, having pinched it first to stop the fluid escaping. When she released the tubing, the fluid started to wash back from Tom. When the flow stopped, she connected a large metal funnel to the tubing and, holding it above Tom, poured warm water into the funnel from a jug. When she thought she'd added enough, she inverted the funnel over the bucket to let it all flow out. This was repeated several times until the water was washing out clear with no trace of soap in it. As she tidied up her equipment, she realised that Tom had fallen into the deep sleep of exhaustion. She carefully rolled Tom over without waking him and applied a thick layer of zinc and castor oil cream over the area to be covered by his nappies. She hoped that the feel of the nappies against his skin would encourage him to use them as he, and the other boys did, every 'purging night'. He really didn't need the worry about emptying his bladder with him being so poorly. Turning him onto his back again, she removed the towel from under him and replaced it with a thick layer of nappies which she pinned expertly in place. She then gently worked a pair of the rubber pants up his legs and over the nappies. The clamped off end of the colon tube stuck out of the top of the nappies at the back where it was taped in place. During this Tom didn't stir at all.

Matron took her equipment back to the sluice room washed it all and hung it up to dry. She then went into her office and phoned the doctor. She explained her concerns and the doctor said that he'd come immediately. A short while later, the doctor came and looked at Tom. He gently palpitated his abdomen and felt the swollen, enlarged liver. "You're right, matron. It's hepatitis. I think that the hospital would prefer you to nurse Tom here unless he gets much worse. The local cottage hospital really doesn't want an infectious patient if you can look after him just as well here. You need to get him to drink plenty but, if he vomits, I see you've got a colon tube in place already, so give him a slow enema of salt and sugar solution continuously if he starts being sick." The doctor left matron instructions as to flow rates and concentration of electrolytes to make up the enema solution. Hepatitis was a disease which gave the patient two choices: they got better because their own body had fought off the infection, or they died. Matron very sincerely hoped that the former would be true. She reported to the headmaster as she was required to do and returned to care for poor Tom. When she got back to the sickbay, Tom woke as she came in. Matron went to put on her rubber apron and fetched a chamber pot and several other items which she placed on her trolley which she placed beside Tom's bed. She washed her hands, poured a drink of water and then sat Tom up, leaning back against her. She put the glass of water in Tom's hand and supported it with her own. She encouraged Tom to drink the water, but wasn't surprised when he started to retch. She quickly brought out the chamber pot and held it up under his mouth whilst Tom was violently and thoroughly sick. When he'd finished, she placed the pot on the floor and lowered Tom back onto the bed. She washed his mouth for him, cleaning away the splashes of sick. She encouraged him to rinse his mouth out into a kidney dish she'd also brought. When she'd done this, she laid the exhausted Tom back onto his bed.

Matron went into the sluice room to prepare the sugar and saline enema for Tom. Back in the sickbay, she hung the can from the drip stand and connected the tubing to Tom's colon tube. She had put a glass drip into the tubing and adjusted it so that the fluid ran slowly high up inside Tom's colon where it would be absorbed. Had Tom been in hospital, i.v. was an alternative means of administering food and hydration to Tom, but many hospitals still used the colon tube method as there was a reduced risk of infection and vein damage compared with the rigid metal i.v. Needle. The fluids were running nicely into Tom's colon, so she went to get a wash cloth and towel to wash and dry his face for him.

Later that day while she was checking up on him yet again, she put her hand between his legs and the feel of the terry toweling through the rubber pants showed that Tom was due a nappy change. This she did, again without waking him. He looked a little dehydrated as his skin had lost its normal smoothness and had become crinkly. She increased the rate of administration of the colon feeding a little and, over the next few hours as Tom's skin returned to normal, had her decision confirmed.

Over the next few days, she changed Tom whenever he needed it, checked his temperature rectally every nappy change and charted it for the doctor. She gave him a daily bed bath as well as applying a thick layer of zinc and castor oil cream during every bed bath to prevent nappy rash. Sometimes Tom was able to co-operate and mumble to her, other times he was sleeping the whole way through. Gradually, to her delight, her patient showed signs of improvement and would spend periods of hours at a time now awake. She would read to him and fuss over him.. She's explained several times to Tom what had happened to him and how he was being nursed so that he would understand what had been happening. Virtually from the start because of his weakened state, Tom was wetting his nappy without conscious thought. As he got better, the doctor said that he could start with sips of water and build up gradually to free fluids. She used a baby bottle with teat o encourage Tom to drink. He needed support to raise his head at first but gradually began to be able to raise his head for himself. Matron put a rubber apron around Tom's neck when she gave him his bottle to drink from. Tom decided that he'd got used to being babied and liked the smell of the rubber around his neck.

He was as weak as a new-born kitten but was thrilled when the doctor said to matron that she could try him on some jelly. Slowly, he began to build up his eating until the colon tube could be removed as he was getting enough sustenance by normal means. Matron still tended to try to feed Tom. She was the maternal type and would have been happiest married with babies of her own to care for. The loss of her fiancé during the war had put an end to those dreams, but Tom, little did she realise it, had provided her with an acceptable substitute.

The doctor was very concerned that Tom was so weak that he would need a long convalescence. Part of this would be that his lack of activity could cause constipation so he authorised matron to administer laxatives and purgatives, as well as enemas as she felt Tom required. He'd also praised her for her care in the long task of nursing Tom back to health.

As Tom got better, he continued to wear the nappies and rubber pants. He got used to a regime of laxatives every fourth night and an enema two days later. He began to love those enemas where nurse would strip off the sheets, leaving Tom just lying on the rubber sheet over the mattress. Sometimes she would sit on the mattress with her long green rubber apron on and Tom lying across her lap. She would hold the nozzle in place, but using a larger nozzle and would pull it partly out and push it back again, rubbing on Tom's prostate and thrilling him with the sensation. She would often put him back in nappies and rubber pants when he was still full with the enema. She would sit him on her lap with a baby bottle to suck on in his mouth and then rock him gently until he released the enema into his nappies when she would, after a while change him again.

All too soon, Tom was well enough to resume his schooling, but he'd not regained bowel or bladder control, so had to go back to matron to be changed between lessons. One day shortly after returning to his lessons, the head teacher called him into his office. Tom wandered what he'd done wrong and couldn't think of anything. To his surprise, the head teacher seemed uncomfortable. He looked away and then back at Tom. "Ive got some bad news for you which I didn't want to give you while you were so ill. You nearly died, you know." Tom didn't know that and was surprised to hear it. He'd wondered why his parents hadn't come home to see him if he'd been so ill. The head teacher continued, "A couple of days after you became ill, I learned that your parents had been killed in a car accident in the country where your father was serving. It was felt that you shouldn't be told until you'd recovered, especially as the shock might have meant that you wouldn't recover. There have been discussions about your future and, as you haven't got any close living relatives, matron has offered, if you're willing, to adopt you and care for you." Tom was no too distressed by the news about his parents as he hardly ever saw them. His heart leapt at the news that matron would adopt him. He blurted out his acceptance and the head teacher said that matters would be put in hand to formalise the arrangement.

Tom went back to matron who hugged and kissed him when he said that he'd accepted her offer. Tom's future was to continue very much like his present with his new mother still changing his nappies, giving him a bottle to drink from, and giving him enemas. The one change was that she moved into a cottage in the grounds of the school with Tom moved in with her. She bought him some rubber pyjamas to wear in bed over his nappies and rubber pants. Tom loved it! Hardly a surprise, is it?