I mean no warning. No "I think I'm going to give you an enema." Nothing that would alert you to getting an enema.
Well it happened to me quite often. I would be home sick from school with some kind of biological terror that between the hours of 8am and 3pm was eating my insides out from the inside. The pain, between 8am and 3pm, was beyond human endurance. The writhing agony, between 8am and 3pm, wracked my poor pathetic body with convulsions, cold clammy palms and fevers that should burn me to a crisp. Yes between 8am and 3pm, which coincidentally was the same time that school was in session. I was dying.
I was lying in bed, with the cold breath of death, upon my brow. I spotted my mom through my blurred vision and weakly lifted my quivering arm. I was so weak, I could barely hold it up.
"Mother?" I squeaked out in a discernible whisper. My lips quivered as I spoke her name. "Mother. I.."My words trembled out of my mouth. "I think you should summon Father Collins. I think this it is." I collapsed onto my big pillow. Gasping for air. "I'm cold Mother. So very cold." I sputtered and coughed out the words.
Mom came over to me and held my hand. She sat down next to me.
"Don't leave us Steven. It's almost 3pm. The time when you make a dramatic recovery." Mom let my hand go.
"Not this time Mother. I can feel the coldness of the grim reaper. He's in my room. He's going to take me from you." I coughed again. "Good bye mother."
The clock struck three as the grandfather clock in the hallway chimed out the time.
"Wait mother..." I frailly lifted my body up to a sitting upright position."I think that my vision is clearing up."
Mom patted me on the shoulder and smiled.
"See what I mean Steven. Every time you are a deaths door. At 3 o'clock a miracle happens and you are completely recovered. I don't think that modern medical science can explain it."
I raised my hand up and flexed my hands. Then I touched my face with my hands.
"The lesions on my face. They are all gone." I felt around my face.
"I don't remember these lesions Steven."
"They were all over my face. Horrible puss filled skin lesions. Merely touching them would cause them to erupt in a puss filled carnage." I continue to probe my face.
"Puss filled carnage?" Mom stood up and gave me her patented strange look. "Well I'm glad they are gone."
"I'm alive. Alive and full of life." I sat up higher with a renewed passion for living.
"Full of life and other things," mom whispered to herself.
"Feel like I could conquer the world. I need to get outside and embrace all that nature has given us." I threw my hands up into the air and smiled.
"I'm not sure about this Steven. You were dying a minute ago and now completely recovered. I think you might be pushing it. You don't want a relapse."
The relapse ploy. Of course if I was really sick. There might be something to that. But since I was faking my illness. Relapse was off the table.
"I won't relapse mom. My disease was a...a...One of a kind. Once I get it. My body builds up an immunity so I can't get it again." I smiled marveling at my cleverness.
"But your weakened body could contract a different ailment one the isn't one of a kind." Mom proceeded to push me down into the bed and cover me up.
"Fresh air!" I blurted out. "I need fresh air or I will relapse." I started to sit up again.
"But thats the worst thing for you. There are hundreds of bacteria carrying microbes that hang out in fresh air. Just waiting for a weakened body to get within their grasp. They can re-infect you." Mom started to push me back down toward the bed.
It was obvious that I wasn't going to win my freedom. I surrendered, and pulled the cover up to my chin.
"You can play tomorrow after school." Mom left my room.
I twiddled my thumbs looking around my room. That didn't go well. I looked down and saw my Swiss Family Robinson comic book. I picked it up. As I started to read it. Mom came back into my room.
"Oh. You won't need that." Mom said as she plucked the comic book from my fingers.
"I won't?" I said with a hint of nervousness.
"Nope." Mom helped me sit up in my bed. "Come honey."
I was pulled from my bed and led down the hall to the bathroom. Mom opened the bathroom door. Inside there was a steel framed kitchen chair and hanging above the chair was a full enema bag.
"What's that for?" I said panicky pointing to the bulging rubber bag.
"You know what's that's for. You had dozens of them." Mom closed the bathroom door and proceeded to undress me.
"I know what's it for. Why is it for me?" I was soon naked in the bathroom as the last bit of clothing was extracted from my body.
"I think you should have an enema to wash out any lingering illness." Mom sat down on the chair and grabbed the vaseline and nozzle.
"Ah...There's nothing lingering. It's a...A...Non lingering sickness. Once you have it. You don't get it anymore and no lingering."
Mom smiled and patted her lap. I knew at the that point there was no arguing and climbed over her legs face down.
She lubricated my bottom hole with a generous glob of vaseline. Then applied the residue to the nozzle.
"Think of this enema as if it was fresh air." Mom slowly pushed the nozzle into my bottom.
"Then I'll never breath fresh air again. If this is what you think it is."
Mom laughed and turned on the water.