I remember very well – having my temperature taken rectally while my family was living in Paris, France. Technically, we were living in Neuilly, one of the wealthiest and most expensive suburbs of Paris. We were literally guests of the country and the company for whom my father was working. We were treated well, the house was gorgeous, and we even had a live-in housekeeper!
This was the early 1980s, and I was 13, maybe 14, at the time. I hadn’t been feeling well for a few days, it was probably the flu, but the housekeeper brought it to the attention of the corporation (as it was also her responsibility to report on our “well-being”) and the nurse was sent to assess my condition.
When she arrived, my mother and the housekeeper, led her into my room. The housekeeper exchanged a few words with the nurse. My mother didn’t do too well with the language but I had picked it up well enough to understand most of what was being said and to speak it well enough to have a general conversation. They were having a conversation about how long I had been sick, what was going on, etc. The nurse said that the flu was going around, rather odd for the summer, but it seemed to be regionalized within central Europe. The nurse said that she would make sure that I was not sick with anything else – and then she walked towards me.
Following her looking in my eyes and mouth, taking my blood pressure, using the stethoscope, and palpating my abdomen (even though I didn’t have intestinal distress), she told me that she was going to take my temperature. I was lying on my back at this point and I began to sit up but the nurse said, “
Tu peux te coucher sur le ventre.
” I was a bit confused but I rolled over and laid on my stomach. I was not wearing pajamas, so the long t-shirt I had on rose slightly to expose my panties.
Over my shoulder, I saw her reaching in her bag and taking out some exam gloves, a case in which there was a thermometer (and, yes, I do remember that it had a red top on it), and a tube of lubricant. The nurse approached me an pulled my t-shirt up above my hips and then put her fingers in my panties to pull them down. At this point, I didn’t know what was going on, so I pressed against the bed to prevent my panties form being pulled down. All of a sudden, I realized that the nurse was planning to take my RECTAL temperature! “J'ai besoin de baisser ta culotte pour pouvoir prendre ta température,“ the nurse said.
The housekeeper must have said something to my mother, or she realized what was going on, but she said, “That’s not necessary, we do it orally at home.”
The housekeeper quickly interjected, “La mère pense que vous allez prendre sa température par voie orale, mais allez-y et humiliez-la - descendez cette culotte!“
I couldn’t see the housekeeper, and what she said was a bit much for me to understand although I heard “mother” and “temperature” and “panties.” The nurse spoke up, I guess to anybody who was listening and who could understand her, “Bienvenue en France. Notre pratique médicale consiste à prendre la température par voie rectale chez toutes les personnes jusqu'à ce qu'elles aient au moins 18 ans. Alors, c'est comme ça que je vais le faire.“ As I was trying to figure out what the nurse had said, because I heard “rectale” and “18.” Somehow I knew that both of them applied to me; the housekeeper said to my mother, “It’s standard procedure here in France, so the nurse will take your daughter’s temperature rectally.”
With that, all hesitation, discussion, negotiation ... whatever, was over! The nurse took advantage of this moment of reconciliation and pulled my panties to my knees! Just as I was resigning myself to accept that, she pulled them down my legs and OFF – “Il n'est pas nécessaire que ces culottes gênent --- écartez vos jambes ...“ The nurse had a hand on either of my legs and pulled them wider.
I wasn’t too concerned at being exposed in front of my mother; we had a pretty open relationship and had been in the bathroom together and dressed together many times. I was , however, a bit uncomfortable being in this situation with the housekeeper, especially when she sat on the edge of the bed and put her hands on my ankles to keep my legs separated.
All of this had diverted my attention from watching everything the nurse was doing so the next thing I knew was that I felt her gloved hands separating my buttocks. Then, I felt the cool, lubricated tip of the thermometer at my anus – she was moving it around but the involuntary spasm and my intentional clenching of my sphincter made insertion very difficult.
“Relaxer. Ouvrez la bouche et respirez,“ she said, and I felt a few light smacks on my buttocks. Yes, this caused me to “relax”, or be distracted enough, so that she was able to insert the thermometer past my anus into my rectum. I just had a vague recollection of this being done when I was much younger but, since then, I never had anything in there either. It was a new experience. It didn’t hurt, it wasn’t even uncomfortable, just different.
After about a minute, I truly started to relax, and then there was something about the thermometer being in there that was feeling kind of good. I clenched my buttocks and released them and – wow – that was a really great feeling. I was recently becoming more aware of my sexuality and I noticed that when I touched myself “down there” I would feel a tingling deep inside. Now, it was as though the thermometer was touching that spot. I clenched one more time, but this time, I pushed down against the bed a little bit, too. Oh my! Just one more time.
“Est-ce que tout va bien? Est-ce que tu te sens bien?“ the nurse said, and she put her hand on my buttocks.
“Oui, je m'habitue juste à la sensation du thermomètre là-dedans,“ I answered. The first thing that happened startled me, as the housekeeper ran her hands up and down my calves.
“Tout va bien, chérie, encore trois minutes,“ she said, and I really wasn’t worried about the three minutes – anymore! But, the nurse had also taken the thermometer between her fingers, slightly twisted it, and moved it in and out and that about sent me through the roof. “Parfois, il est utile d'ajuster le thermomètre sur lequel il est en place,“ she said. “Adjusting the thermometer”, is that what she thought she was doing? Maybe so, but it was a sensation beyond belief. This only lasted for a little while and then they stopped. Now, however, I had to try and lie still and not get their attention again – even though I had discovered a new sensation. I just focused on the feeling of the thermometer and waited for what I guessed would be another two minutes. “Madame, you do not take the rectal temperature at home?” the nurse asked my mother, in her broken English.
“We did when she was younger, but that’s been a long time ago,” my mother answered, and the housekeeper followed up with, “... quand elle était plus jeune ... il y a longtemps ...“
“It is the best, for the family, for you, your husband, your daughter,” the nurse said. Then she said something that surprised me, “For me, it is how I do it.”
My mother was probably just being courteous, “Thank you, we will certainly consider that. It is probably a good suggestion,” and the housekeeper said, “ Merci. Nous allons l'essayer.“ That was only a part of the translation – she said it was a good suggestion but left out the part about it being a good suggestion.
Once again, I had gotten distracted and I was taken by surprise as I felt the nurse’s fingers on the thermometer, twisting it as she slowly removed it. She stood next to me and wiped it, holding it up to read it. The housekeeper had also left her position at the foot of the bed and was also standing next to the nurse. She seemed very interested and curious about what my temperature was.
“Trente-sept vergule neuf (37.9º C) - juste légèrement surélevé,“ the nurse said. For my mother’s benefit, the housekeeper said, “That’s about 100.2º F, just slightly elevated.” The housekeeper pulled the bed covers back over me – even though I didn’t have my panties.
“My panties?” I asked.
The housekeeper handed them to me, and I maneuvered under the covers to put them on. She said, “They’ll be coming down again in another four hours when I come in to take your temperature.” What? Now I really wasn’t sure what to think. I had kind of gotten used to the feeling but I wasn’t sure I wanted the housekeeper to be taking my rectal temperature.
The nurse used an alcohol wipe to further clean the thermometer and then she put it in the case. She turned to my mother and said, “Madame, I take your temperature now?”
My mother was able to politely decline with a little “no thank you, I am fine” but somehow I really think the nurse was serious with her request ...