One of the first things I learned as a child was, "Always tell the truth." There was, however, one area of my life in which lying served me well. I grew up in the 1940's. Whenever there were any symptoms of illness or discomfort. seeing our pediatrician was the LAST recourse. The FIRST attempt of healing was always the same. A Soapsuds enema with Ivory soap. One of the outcomes was that visiting Dr. Taylor's office or asking for a home visit was very rare.
From my earliest memories enemas were emblazoned in my thinking as significant events and they had to be planned carefully. This involved several what we knew then as "fibs." I had to lie my way to Grandma's lap. She didn't need much manipulation. She was already an authority on the giving of enemas. Not only did she serve other members of our family, she travelled Kitsap County (Bremerton, Port Orchard and Belfair) with her creme-colored cardboard box of equipment and the ever-present jar of Vaseline Petroleum Jelly.
Everything about receiving enemas from Grandma was magical. I would watch with fixed stare as she ran the bath tub faucets to just the right temperature. Not too hot. Not too cold. A comfortably warm stream of water filling the bag. A bar of Ivory Soap was placed at the mouth of the bag as it filled. I recall vividly how a cloud of soapsuds billowed from the mouth of the bag,
A sizable glob of Vaseline was spread on the black nozzle. Any lube left over became a down payment just inside the anal sphincter. She spread my buttocks with her thumb and forefinger, In went the nozzle.
"Click!" My rectum was receiving a torrent of soapy water.
Some might find this process disturbing . . . perhaps even painful. Not me.
It was exhilarating. My heart beat faster and faster. My breathing became labored.
It became a competition of sorts. Could I take the whole bag? Usually I did.
In later years, I would refill the bag and begin a second filling before going to the toilet.
In sum, these experiences were an entire replaying and reconfirming the special love between me and my grandmother.