How many of you had nurses in your lives growing up?

My first wife was a OB-GYN, NP.

When I was growing up we had neighbour who was a nurse, she was probably around 35 or 40, and my Mum would always call on her whenever we were ill.

I remember she would insist on examining me and I would always look forward to being auscultated by her.

Interesting argument ...

My adult daughter is a Registered Nurse. (Her father, my second ex-husband, and I are MDs.) We are the only medical personnel in our families.

I married two, including my current wife, but that's it for family. My current wife is pure vanilla but my prior RN wife was pretty kinky.

Well not in my family but in my Girlfriend's side of her family.....every female from her Granny, Ma-Ma (as she called her), 2 aunts her mother and her and her little sister are all nurses and that is so wild and she told me some stories. For me growing up the only nurses I remembered was 2 of my neighbors and one of my best friends Mom was a nurse and this was in the 80s so probably not as wild as farther back. The only thing I remember was that the neighbor down the street from me her daughter always played nurse on me and she had all the real tools from her Mom who was a nurse and just remember seeing her Mom in white uniform and starch cap and this was in the mid 80s so guess at that time they were still wearing whites and cap.

The wild thing is that her daughter is now a R.N and still talk to her on social media and she still remembers me being her patient and she still has her Mom's cap and uniform she graduated in and keeps it next to hers she graduated in. Also told her about my medical fetish and she has talked to my soon to be wife and they chat it up on the phone and she always tells her what she does to me and that girl said "he always was the best patient and knew he was going to have a thing for nurses when he grew up".

Man she was right.

Growing up we had 2 nurses as family friends. Sometimes their skill and knowledge came in handy when we kids hurt ourselves.

I's say that here was much more nurses. On every big city was med school where finished 30 girls/year. Ofc, not all of them was worked as nurses. Some goes to business then like plastic surgeries etc. And was same like with docs, we talk about interesting cases, sometimes about nature or holidays. With some I had learn many interesting things from old meds (herbs, cardio and pulmo issues, accidents) and was no shame about girls problems and take free day or something.

I have daughter who is a LNA in same day surgery. Also a mother in law who was a RN and practiced 6o years and has since passed away at 94 years old. We got along really well. I now she was and advocate of enemas. Up to the day she passed there was a bag hanging in the bathroom at her house. Her daughter (my Wife) would roll her eyes when we started talking about enemas. She was the one to always bring up the subject. At the time I Mentioned to her that I would occasionally give myself one just to get a good cleaning out, then that would get her going with the stories from work. We both would be laughing with my wife shacking her head witch would just encourage her mother even more. Very funny. Because of my need to have an enema every two to three days to stay regular I'm sure If she was still around she would have no problem taking care of me. My wife agrees.

My mother and my grandmother were both nurses. My stepmother was also a nurse, a colleague of my mother. And later my stepsister became a nurse too… basically I’m the only one who didn’t pursue a hospital career.

Yes, having two nurses constantly at home certainly had a strong influence on the fact that I received enemas, but in reality I had been suffering from intestinal problems since I was a child.

My mom was a nurse. Growing up rectal temps and enemas were a common occurrence. She only gave me 1 shot that I can recall.

My maternal grandmother was a military nurse during WW2, and after the war was for a short time nurse at some orphenage.

My aunt, we were on a family vacation in Florida 1980 . I started feel bad headache mom asked if she had a thermometer with her because she had toddler and a diaper bag she did but only a rectal thermometer. She got it we went to the bedroom she took it and gave me a Tylenol (fever all) suppository

My MUM, yes I'm from the UK, was a district nurse in the UK and gave weekly enemas to my sister.

Local Dr's would also send girls to her for minor injuries and also sent girls to her for enemas.

I never asked why it was only girls as I was scared of getting an enema also.

When preparing the fluid she would boil water and shave castile soap into it from a large bar.

The whole house would smell of soap and I knew some girl was going to arrive soon to get naked across her lap.

She only ever used a Higginson syringe and the concoction she made was very thick and I doubt it would have flowed through a conventional bag enema.

Mum never closed the bathroom door , so I saw many girls draped over her lap as she pumped the syringe.

Growing up, I hadn’t spent much attention on a nearby girl cousin, nor she on me. We had though, a significantly but not much older aunt who we just loved to pieces. As wee ones, we'd called her “Tee,” and it stuck. All our lives, anytime we had questions about our bodies, or indeed any concerning thoughts, Auntie Tee gave us good thoughtful answers. One year, Cuz, as we now called each other, had gone over to Tee’s just after Thanksgiving dinner, as we long had, to hang out. Tee mentioned that she’d eaten way too much, and that she was going to take herself a Get Out Of Jail enema. I blurted out, “Can we watch?” Tee replied, “Oh, I’d love the company.”

For whatever reason, which was soon enough to pass in our favor, Tee had kept her mom’s enema outfit as a nostalgic treasure, hidden away with evident mystery in its original Rexall carton. She retrieved it from under the towels in the linen closet, lovingly unpacked it and showed us the accessories that she’d learned in Nursing School to call catheters, or “Caths.” We’d been quietly calling them Butt Stickers. Tee had spun us with considerable detail the story of adventures that she and her nursing school classmates had had with each other on Enema Day, so we weren’t much surprised to notice her poorly stifled glee with what she was about to entertain us. We’d always watched our moms lubricate our butt stickers with inordinate amounts of Vaseline, but Tee explained that she’d forever enjoyed the sensations of direct “insertion,” as she called it, so much so that she didn’t need or want anything interfering. She’d screwed on the largest and longest cath in the collection, which looked very scary to us. She added that, if we wanted to learn about insertion as stunningly good fun, we could try giving or receiving safely shaped erotic objects such as that cath, with or without “lube.” Cuz and I Iocked eyes as it dawned on us why we’d so loved playing Doctor. Cuz brought forth a gale of supportive laughter from Tee when she said she hadn’t thought very much about butt stickers, but it felt so good to be doing ‘insertion’ with a favorite ball point pen, “up my peehole.” From right then on, I knew it would be beyond prediction that I’d ever love anyone so dearly or so well as Cuz.