I was forever receiving enemas as kid and usually would complain but always relented. But then there was this time I was perhaps seven years old and in a Catholic Hospital that had a nursing school attached to it. I was in this hospital a number of time and at time could be a difficult patient. There was a head nurse that was not going to hear any of it when she came into the ward and announced she will be giving me an enema. Now this was in a ward where there might have ten beds and the normal procedure was to take the familiar ride down the hall to the 'Treatment Room' but apparently today was going to be different. A little while later a student nurse wheeled in an IV pole and rolling steel tray with a large stainless steel enema can, enema hose and a long red rectal tube that was wrapped in cellophane. There was also a large pitcher of liquid, lubricant, pads and bottle of something I assumed was a soap solution. The young nurse was very apologetic and said the treatment room was occupied and that the head nurse would be giving me the enema here on the ward. I got very upset, thinking this was crazy because the only privacy was portable curtains that rolled around on frames.
After rolling the small portable curtain along only one side of the small bed the student nurse hung the stainless steel enema high on the IV pole, connected the hose and the rectal tube and said they would be right back. Now here I am laying in my bed with all this hanging over my head and something just clicked and I said 'no way was I going to let them do this'.
Every 15 or 20 minutes one of the your nurses would stop by saying that the head nurse was very busy but she would be here soon. This went on for quite a long while and being a regular hospital patient I knew the afternoon shift would soon change and then right before that happens a very unhappy head nurse appears and tells the other nurse to refill the pitcher with warmer water. I then announce that won't be necessary since I wouldn't be taking an enema. The nurse snorted and said "We'll see about that". Minutes later the pitcher arrives and it is being poured into the enema can all the while I am protesting. I refuse to roll over and the head nurse tells her assistant to return with help. Moments later 2 sheepish young student nurses arrive and turn be over while I am fighting like crazy. I am literally held down and the head nurse is putting this tube deep into me. I am trying to squeeze it out and she is saying "Don't you dare". Before I know it I feel the rush of warm water running into my bowels. Now this is creating quite a scene on the floor. Other nurses are stopping in to see what all the noise is about.
Normally I would be trying desperately to 'hold my water' but not today. It seems to me as fast as this water is running into me it is coming out all over the bed. The nurse tells someone to refill the pitcher and it now being poured directly into the enema can. The bed is soaked, the head nurse didn't do much better and she is pissed but relentless. Eventually one of the student nurses calms me down while also holding me down. Eventually the head nurses gives up and just says, Clean him up".
I am thinking I won and then all of a sudden I realize I have to go and go bad. A bedpan appears and I am shocked at what came out since I didn't think all that much went in.
For the rest of stay I exchanged dirty looks with the head nurse who seemed to have forgotten all about it by the next day. . . . . . From then on I never fought having an enema again.