I remember our stepmom Kerry giving our dad a few enemas when he had some tests done at the hospital. She kept three enema bags in the bathroom closet, one for my sister and I, and one each for herself and my dad. The bag she used on dad was a large green rubber fountain syringe with a checkerboard pattern on the side. It had a menacing looking white Delrin nozzle we later learned was meant for douching. Kerry preferred using this type of nozzle for all our enemas because it felt more comfortable than the straight rectal tip.
When she was about to give dad an enema, she’d have my sister and I go outside and play, or stay downstairs. After about 45 minutes to an hour, we could come back in. Dad was usually sitting on the couch, now wearing boxer shorts and a t-shirt, and rubbing his lower belly. We didn’t think much of it.
But when we went into the bathroom, we could tell something had just happened in there. That green rubber bad was hanging from the shower curtain pole. The white hose was still dripping water, hanging neatly over the shower head. The scary nozzle with four ridges and little holes at the tip, was lying on the counter on a washcloth beside a salt container and a tube of K-Y jelly. It also smelled funky like someone farted then sprayed Lysol.
I asked Kerry what she did to dad, and she told us in a manner as appropriate as possible for a 10 year old…..”Your dad has to go have a test at the hospital tomorrow. I had to clean out his bottom with some warm saline water like I have to do to you and your sister sometimes when you can’t poop.”
All this intrigued my young klismaphiliac mind. I asked Kerry if she was going to give me an enema anytime soon. She chuckled and said “well no honey, not unless you get to where you need one. But if you feel like you need one, I could give you one in a few minutes.” I quickly said “OH NO THANKS!!“ Kerry grinned and shook her head. I now wish I’d let her done it. The one time she did give me an enema when I was just 8 years old, I remember it felt warm and pleasant with just a little bellyache.