Do you remember a house call?

Someone that can remember an experience from the past, you where sick, and your parents called a doctor to look at you?

I love detailed stories. Do you remember your age? Where was you examinated? Did you know the doctor/nurse? How was the doctor examining you?

Yes our family doctor made house calls. Several times I can remember the Doctor coming when I was very young. Probably at the age of four or five. Pre school age back in the early to mid fifties.

I had constapation issues from birth. My mother would administer bulb enemas that took care of the problem. I do remember on one occasion I'm assuming her enema was not effective so the doctor was called.

I remember the doctor taking my temperature and then talking to my mother. He decided I needed another enema and did it himself.

I was laying across my mother's bed. My mom was holding my legs up and he was using our bulb syringe. My mom brought a pot from the kitchen and they prepared som very soapy solution.

I do remember crying during the rlenema. I'm sure that was the largest amount of soapy water I had ever received. My mother then picked me up and carried me to the bathroom.

I do remember this being repeated several times. And then i guess he finally got the results he was after.

Through the years there were other house calls for child hood illness. They usually were treated with a shot in the butt, I'm assuming Penicillin back in those days.

But that one expierance has stayed with me. I had many single Ivory soap suds enemas from my mom after that. I think after the doctors experiance, she became more proactive with the enema. If I missed a day out came the Milk of Magnesia, and if that didn't work came an enema. Also if I had a tummy ache, it was enema time.

I remember one for sure when I was age 4, 5 or 6. I caught measles (or was it chickenpox?) It was an unwelcome surprise when the doctor came into my bedroom. He wanted my PJ top removed and did his usual inspection of my ears, eyes, nose and mouth. He then began shaking down a thermometer while mom rolled me onto my stomach and my PJ bottoms lowered. I felt the thermometer slide in and then the waiting began.

When the thermometer was removed I reached down to pull my PJ bottoms back up again and roll over. Mom stopped me and held me in position. I began to cry because I knew that meant a shot was coming. Sure enough, I felt the cold alcohol rub my butt followed by the sharp sting of the needle. With the needle removed I was allowed to pull my PJs up and roll back over again.

Mom thanked to doctor and wanted me to do the same but I was in no mood for good manners.

I recall one from when I was probably 5. I had an earache as I recall. My dad was home so it must have been early evening. We were in our small living room, my parents sitting on a sofa on the side nearest the kitchen. The doctor had entered and was sitting in a chair nearest the entrance. I was, as was often the case, just in my tidy whities and standing in front of the doctor. He listened to my lungs with his stethoscope as well as looking in my throat. Then using his otoscope he checked my ears. My parents were still across the room and chatting with the doctor.

He then told me to turn around and bend over. He pulled down my shorts and I was about to panic, certain I was going to get a penicillin shot. I guess I was relieved when I felt him spreading my cheeks and then the cold rectal thermometer slid in. No surprise because this was the only way I had ever had my temperature taken. The doctor told me to straighten up and then pulled up my shorts which, of course, held the thermometer in place. I just stood there for however long it was while the doctor (Dr Robinson--I remember it to this day. I think he delivered me) conversed with my folks. Then he pulled open my undies and read the thermometer. Finally he pulled out a prescription pad and scribbled something. Turns out I dodged a bullet! Just a week worth of pills instead of a shot! That was my most vivid home visit.

House calls were common during my youth (1950s). Our pediatrician made his calls after office hours, so often it was past seven PM before he arrived. He drove a land yacht Caddie, which he double parked in front of our building, taking advantage of have MD plates on his car.

The rule for house calls were fever or vomiting. In my case, it would be fever that promoted the visit. Ears, nose, throat were checked, steth’d front and back. Abdomen palpitated and a quick tickle/hernia check before he took my rectal temperature. While the thermometer was registering he prepare a shot of penicillin, which he administered while the glass rod was embedded in my behind. He read it by separating my butt cheeks, only removing it after the shot. Sometimes I got the empty vial and syringe (needle snapped off). While I rubbed my sore butt, he gave instructions to my mother and usually a Rx for cough medicine and maybe antibiotics.

If I hadn’t been given an enema before the visit I got one after he left. I could expect an enema every day I was ill.

House calls were very common growing up. The doctor would come in with a black bag filled with everything he needed. It was like being in the office, except there was no nurse, so the doctor did everything, including taking your temperature. One doctor would have me lie on the bed, while a different doctor had me lie over his lap. He would be wearing a suit and it felt kind of itchy. The doctor wasn’t called unless you were ick, so the house call always ended with a penicillin shot.

I recall the doctor making house calls back in the 1940's through 60's when I was sick. When I was 12 years old and had the measles he came and examined me, took my rectal temperature and told my mother to give me a hot soapsuds enema because I had been constipated for several days. He handed her a small bottle of white liquid soap to make the enema with and told her to use half the bottle in a quart of warm water just hot enough to sting on her wrist, then to let me rest for a few minutes and repeat the enema using the rest of the bottle of soap. Those enemas were much more irritating than the Ivory bar soap she usually used for my enemas and the second one made me feel weak and sick. He also told her to keep giving me a daily hot soapsuds enema until the spots had disappeared and I was well enough to go back to school. That seemed to be his advice for me and my cousins who also went to him, a daily hot soapsuds enema whenever we were too sick to go to school.

What I remember most about the house calls is the sound of the doorbell and the anxiety about what would happen shortly afterward. In several occasion I had a genital examination unexpected and undue. I remember every time I was sick with fever also RT was taken. I remember also a long testicular exam when I was sick with parotitis. Being examinated without underwear in my bed added a lot to humiliation and embarassement.

I remember only time the doctor made a house call for me. I was in the first grade and had the chicken pox. I had to stay home. The doctor came by once to check me out. I was in my bedroom when he arrived and the rectal thermometer and vaseline were on the night table. I was in PJs no undershorts. He check had me take the PJ top off and checked me out. Then took a thermometer from his bag and used the vaseline on the night table, rolled me over pulled my PJ bottoms down and took my temperature rectally. After he talked with mom giving her guidance on how to care for me and then left. My mom watched the whole thing.

When I was under age seven we had a doctor that made house calls. He lived a few blocks away and had a very large home that had his practice and his family residence. He had one nurse, and at an office visit you would get examined and walk out with a prescription, usually pills in a little white envelope.

I can recall the doctor coming to our house on several occasions, but I only remember him seeing me once. I may have been six years old and I do not know what ailed me at the time. It was an evening, and I was in my bed wearing my pajamas - shorts and a 'jacket' that buttoned down the front. He felt my forehead and the glands in my neck, and then took my temperature orally. I remember him unbuttoning my pajama jacket and opening it wide to expose my chest and stomach. He listened with his steth to my breathing and stomach. He felt my stomach and lower abdomen, but I do not recall if he slipped his hand under my shorts or pulled them down. I do not remember sitting up or getting out of bed, how / if my jacket was rebuttoned, or if I got some medication. I suppose one of my parents was there during the exam, but do not remember.

That doctor was a very kind man - he was probably in this late 50s or early 60s at the time. He died suddenly in the mid-1970s and we had to go to a new thing in town: the pediatrician. That office was completely foreign to what my family had known as healthcare, and it was a difficult switch for both me and my parents.

I remember multiple times getting a house call when I was 8 and younger. Usually in pajamas I had to remove to underwear. Then he would pull them down and take my temperature. Usually followed by a shot.

House calls were very common growing up. the only time my mom called him was when I got the chicken pox or she didn't have a car to get to his office.

there were five of us kids, so he came out several times that I remember. Rectal temp was usually the case. It seemed that a Penicillin shot was used allot for pretty much anything.

I remember once when I was around 14 years old I was in for a fever he said your gonna get a penicillin shot. quickly said, I'm not surprised "you only have to fart to get one of those". Besides getting smacked from my mom as we left his office, that shot seemed a little more aggressive than usual. I think it hit the bone.

I think house calls by doctors were common in the 60s & maybe 70s. Now in the UK you're lucky to see one if you can drag yourself to the surgery & maybe get past the receptionist who would surely feel at home in some kind of prison camp. Back in the 60s age 5 I remember the doctor coming out one lunchtime. I felt like shit & got admitted to hospital for two weeks with pneumonia. Three times a day penicillin injections in my butt made me howl & cry. I swear nobody is going near my butt with an injection ever again!

It was a long time ago, I must have been about five years old. My mother, my younger brother, and I were sick with the flu. The doctor came to the house. He didn't really examine my mother, assuming she was better, but he asked my brother and me to take off our pajamas. Was he only thinking of our tops for the examination, or did he also want us to take off our bottoms? I can't remember. I also don't know if he wanted to see us completely naked. We never wore underwear under our pajamas, though.

The doctor made a comment about my circumcised penis (while my brother isn't), saying it was a very good thing. That comment stuck with me, and I think it might have been the beginning of my medical fetish: a doctor taking an interest in my genitals when that wasn't the reason for the home visit.

I remember our doctor doing house calls. I was between 8-12 and would get ear and throat infections 2 or 3 times a year. When it was really bad my mother would call the doctor and he would come to our house. It always resulted in my getting a penicillin shot in the butt and usually he would tell my mother to bring me to the office two or three days later where I would get another penicillin shot in the butt. I hated those shots, baring my butt and the pain of the shots. But as an adult it has become a fetish and I now love painful shots in the butt.

My mom, sister, and I were visiting my grandmother in the town my mom grew up in. My sister and I caught something. The family doctor (which was still a thing) came over and saw us. It was different for sure.

In my youth never had a doctor visit except one time when I was covers in chickenpox and was having severe skin issues,

Didnt last long, but due to combination of high fever and skin conditions it validated a visit.

Only other time it happened was back in 2013-ish, quite a bit more intens. I was on new meds (anti-insult / nerve dampening) and having a severe reaction, whilst that happened I had to instantly switch to another type to prevent the possible side-effect of seizures. That combination knocked me out so bad I could hardly move / take care of myself,

So I called the emergency services, had a doctor in my home withing 15 min. doing a full neuro check-up, as far as possible due to me being completely and utterly fooked.

The doc decided to call the attending neurologist at the local hospital on what to do and if I had to be admitted etc.

In the end, due to my vitals being stable, they decided I could ride it out at home, with the addition of being called every 4hrs (with exception of the night) for the next few days till I was able to actually show signs of life again.

Got to love an oversensitive nervesystem...

Getting off of those same meds was interresting aswell.

Had to stagger them down bit for bit, every 2 weeks, for a period of basically 2.5 month, cycle of step down - sick leave for a week, one actually livable week, repeat...

It was in the mid to late 60s when I had been home sick from school. Mom called the doctor and was given an appointment for that afternoon. The first thing that happened is that I got my temperature taken yet again rectally and sometime later mom called me to the bathroom where she had prepared the enema bag and I got a good cleaning out. Afterwards she changed my bed linen and had me put on clean pajamas. When the doctor arrived he examined me, took my temperature one more time, double checked to be sure mom had given me an enema, and then had me lie face down and slipped the pajama bottoms part way down and gave me what seemed like a huge penicillin shot. Everything happened to my butt.

"Butts hotlover"

Unfortunately now it is very seldom to have shots on the butt on the reverse of a recent past when it was the common use

I would like it with a strict nurse bit ir never happened, it is on shoulders or arms

Fortunately I have still the memories of chidhood and teenage hood, even military service!