Rectal temp in a college dorm.

Does anybody here have any expierences where a rectal temp was taken in a college dorm room? What were the circumstances of it? Did your roommates know what was going on? If they did, did they want to get involved or not want anything to do with it?

I personally never lived in a college dorm. I stayed in one enough with my ex-girlfriend...she had a single so it was just the two of us in there. I used to take her temp several times over the course of a weekend, usually during morning and evening in bed activities.. Fun times while it lasted!

You know, sometimes someone says something that just hits you right and it triggers a memory or thought that you hadn't thought of in a very long time. Well, neoplanman, something you said did. Not sure why either?

I never lived in a dorm I had my own private place, but some of my friends did. Geeze, I can't believe I am suddenly remembering this now. I had been getting sick off and on for over 2 years. It was a weird sick, not like a flu sick. It just felt like I was having a heart attack. They usually only lasted a few hours. I had severe pain, often times I would vomit, get dizzy, and a lot of other things as well. But again, they usually went away after a few hours, I figured I had eaten something bad.

Well I had another attack, but this one was very very bad. The pain in my chest sent me to my knees, gasping in breath, and eventually I passed out. Long story short here, I ended up in the local hillbilly ER where they ran a few tests. Apparently I have vomited on myself. I kept telling them I was in so much pain. I was sitting in a wheelchair and the nurse came over to me and said, "we've been watching you now for 20 minutes and all you are doing is sleeping, so you must be feeling better now. Well, the truth is, I wasn't feeling any better, but they had me on so much pain meds I couldn't even answer them.

My friends took me back to their dorm so they could watch me. As far as I can remember I pretty much slept off and on for 3 days. I was taking the medication they gave me which was I believe, looking back on it now, was probably ativan and these super huge pills for like acid reflux or something. Which, those did help some.

During my sickness I had to sleep sitting up. If I laid down at all the pain only doubled. I remember having my temp taken rectally twice by my friends during those three days. I remember thinking that even half way laying down on my side is going to make the pain worse, but I was so sick that, honest to goodness, I thought I was really dying.

My friends that took care of me were from Guatemala, and the other was from Honduras. They were only allowed to bring a few things with them here according to their program rules, but that was one of the things Maria brought. It was the only way things were done back in the hills in her country where everyone was very poor. A thermometer was highly valued according to them.

I can't give you any other details about my temps. I just remember them pushing me slightly over so they could get it in, then falling asleep either during or right after.

Then one day, again three days later, as quickly as the attack started, it ended. I had a little residual soreness from sitting around and not moving and for have my muscles in a 3 day state of being all tensed up, but I felt pretty good.

That's when I started looking over my paperwork from the ER. They diagnosed me with high anxiety due to being in college, and with GERD, which in their mind gave a diagnosis for the pretty green vomit I seemed to keep producing on my self that stunk to high hell. Back in my college days I might understand the anxiety issues to an extent, but I was a very laid back person back then, and I was in college so my diet consisted of a lot of pop, curly fries with cheese, nachos and the like, but still something just wasn't still right in my mind, the attacks were going to come again, just was never sure when or where.

Well, then I got married and along in my second trimester which was a year later, these same attacks came back not as bad as the last one. My ob who lived up in a real city listened to my complaints and right away sent me to see a surgeon. His name was doctor Cox, and he as a bit of a cock to might I ass. All 5 foot of him in his bight new sports car with the attitude to match it. However, I didn't really care what he drove, I wanted these attacks go to away and quickly. He promised me he could fix me up 6 Weeks after my baby was born.But I still left his office not knowing how, why, or on what he wanted to operate on. So back at my OB's office I made an appointment to only discuss what my real problem was. He was short and to the point and said the surgeon is more than willing to do the surgery no sooner than 6 weeks post section from my first kid. Well, what choice did I have. So at that point I was three weeks from my delivery day. They admitted me on the maternity ward where I was trying very hard to figure out where this pain comes from, was it environment, stress, anxiety, or caused by some sort of food that I was eating that was making me get them. So at 3 weeks out of my delivery date, I found myself in a maternity ward. We had 2 to a room, so it was a semi private.

Now,the general rule of thumb in a hospital is that you put the sickest cases closest to the nursing station so if the pt goes down, or emervently needs something, more staff are ready and available to assist with whatever needs to be done with or to the pt, and pt's baby in question. Well, I was parked right directly in front of the nurses stations. I was pertty heavy then was well over 220. Well the hospitsl that I was at had started a new "mommy and Me " type of program, a program where they wanted it to feel more like a home setting and not like a clinical one. So without bogging you down with too many details, they put me right out smack dab in front of the nurses station. Now to put things in a little bit more of a perspective, the doc since he couldn't stop these little attacks from coming, which were not coming some place between 4-8 times a day, decided to put me on IV fliud only, which in fact took them down to a 1-2 on the number of attacts, and my pain was a lot more tollerable then as well which it normlaly at that point was a 1-3, which was tollerable, but still echausing.

Well while I wasn't dying, the baby was still doing fine inside me, why was I still right outside the nurses station. Well, it didn't take me long to figure out why. Room food trays were brought directly to the rooms, I got nothing. But between each meal and before bed, the kitchen brought up a very heavily stocked snack and beverage carts, notice, carts as in plural. One was fill with real pop, not hospital pop like Shasta, but with Coke and Pepsi, sitting on ice. There was a little fridge with a glass see through front that displayed any other goodies that needed to be kept cold, yogurt, ice cream, toppings, whipped cream, sauces etc. On the other cart was fresh baked assorted cookies, juice, pies, crackers, popcorn, chips, sandwiches, pickles. You name it it was on there completely and freshly stocked before breakfast, then between breakfast and lunch, again after lunch and before dinner, and then again after dinner. And some morning they would send a cook up there with a third cart, a cooking station cart where he could make those thick Belgian waffles with any topping you wanted, including ice cream, he could make eggs of any kind including omelets. You name it, he could and would fix it for you.

So while I wasn't a mom with a kid yet, I figured I still deserved the nice little extras for having to put up with all the women screaming and yelling at all hours of the day and night, no? Well, I took one or maybe two steps out of my room, I was a few mer feet from getting food from the snack carts and the head nurse stopped ne and said, "you can't have that. YOu get all your food through your IV's. So, lets get back in bed shall we? I told her she was a big meanie with a smile on my face, went back to my room, got some money and headed back out with money in my deep robe pockte, and my sigarette and lighter in my other hand. I told the head bitch/nurse where I was going, she wasn't happy, but understood jsut the same. I went out and smoked, then came back in and headed right for the snack bar where I bought several skore bars, and a few kit-kats. THen headed down to the cafeteria where I pocked about 30 pack of crackers. What can I say, they were both clubs and Ritz, my favorites.

Went back upstairs to my bed, closed the curtain, and ate about half my stash. It was so flipping yummy going down, but within a few minutes I was sobbing my eyes out in pain and promising anyone and everyone that I would never be a non-compliant patient again. Then they took the rest of my stash away food wise, let me keep my smokes.

By the next morning I was 2 weeks away from my delivery date and the doc sent me down for an ultrasound of my belly to figure out what was going on. The e-xray tech was very nice. I asked her if she could swing up and see if we would be able to tell the sex of the baby, and sure enough, it would have taken an idiot not to see the perfect little triangle showing my that my first born was clearly a girl. She had her fanny right up against the top of my belly. Like I said, there was no mistaking in the upcoming weeks whether or not I was going to have a little Sara, or a little Grant.

Needless to say, I was returned to my room where my doctor, the same one that dated my mother for many years, was waiting for me. He kissed me on my head and said, "two choices here, do you want to be a momma today, or wait this out for another two weeks? I said, I want to be a momma today. He then proceeded to tell me that the cause of all my pain, nausea, vomiting and what not over the past 3 years now was that the ultrasound showed multiple and massive stones both in my gaullbladder and in the surrounding common ducks.

So, due to other complications, I ended up having a c-section on her. I got out with the firth of our first on Thanksgiving, and out having my gallbladder removal on Christmas. Then after about 6 months of "knowing where every bathroom is in a 100 mile radius from my house" was, that part settled down. Now I can eat without the fear of whether or not it's going to throw me into a gallbladder attack or not. And trust me when I tell you, that's a fantastic feeling.

Mashie

I took my own in my college dorm room. Freshman year was the only year that I shared a room and we had bunk beds, so I don't think my roommate ever saw it happen (I usually did it at bedtime or when I was alone in the room). I did get my temp taken and received an enema from a friend in their dorm room once or twice.

A few years ago I gave a play exam to a freshman in his college dorm, which was quiet since it was Thanksgiving break and just about everyone was at home or with local friends. It was kind of a thrill to do that since I always thought the idea of temp taking or other exam stuff in the dorm was exciting.

In my dorm we all had our own tiny room. But a friend from that dorm was being sick and asked me for a thermometer. I used it oral so far, but when she gave it back to me she told me she cleaned itbecause she had it in her butt. The thought of her taking her temp rectally is still nice.

I took a girlfriends temp in her dorm room. Her responce to getting her rectal temp taken was incredible, something i will never forget. She was raised with them at home and well thought it wouldnt haopen again, was she wrong.

I was a freshman in a college dorm, sometime near the end of the first semester. I hadn't been feeling well for a day or so and I just came back to the room from a class. My roommate said I looked flush, and I said something like I feel worse. He asked me what was wrong and I said I have a bit of a headache and have chills. I said I was going to bed. I changed into pajamas and tried to sleep. When I woke up, what seemed like a long nap was really about a half hour. I told him I was feeling terrible. He went to his suitcase and took out a thermometer. He told me he was going to take my temperature. He washed the thermometer with soap and water and shook it down. Then I was taken aback when I saw him get out a jar of vaseline. I asked him if had an oral thermometer. He said his Mom packed this with his things. He told me to sit up. He then sat down on the bed and told me to lie over his lap. I sort of hesitated, but he was firm and said something like come on let's get this over with. I was too weak to really argue so I laid myself over his lap. He then lowered my pajama bottom, put a pretty good sized glob of vaseline on the thermometer, and put the thermometer into my rectum. He held it in place for about 5 minutes or so and took it out. He used a tissue to wipe the excess vaseline off the thermometer and then read it. I was 102. He told me he would call the infirmary for me.

Intersting stories 😉

Stac,

Was the thermometer yours or hers? Had you two discussed rectal temps before? Did you ever take hers? Thanks.

Nero

All through college I had my temp taken rectally. Every room mate I had took it that way. So when one of us wasn't feeling well out would come the thermometer and the jar of Vaseline. We knew better to complain because that would mean a spanking after the temp was taken. Although there were times when that happened. we knew it was the best way to take the temp to get a good reading.

This brings back memories of my freshman year in college. There were 5 of us, originally bunking in this fairly tight space. Two of my roommates were upper classmen who'd known each other from a previous school in Appalachia they'd transferred in from, for their senior year. One of the guy's dad was a pharmacist. I recall seeing, what I thought was a plethora of pharmaceutical items I'd not seen before.

I spent a lot of time that freshman year with headaches and constipation, caused from my adjustment to dorm life from growing up basically as an only child, (my siblings were several years older). I recall days that I would skip classes to sneak through my roommates pharmacy drawer. He had a rectal thermometer, and plenty of suppositories that I would use. I was too embarrassed to talk with him, a senior, about all of it. I figured he wouldn't miss a few suppos.

I posted in another subject that I and my college roommate had no trouble with taking each others rectal temps when sick and also giving each other enemas when needed. In fact Mark was the one that asked me about how my mom did my temp as a kid, and once he knew It had been rectal and I didn't mind rectal we mutually decided to take our temps that way. We were also dating girls but neither of our girl friends at the time were into rectal temps so we used to do none sex related RT play as well, as enemas on each other, this went on for about the whole 4 years of college. We never saw anything weird about it. As it turned out we both had the RT fetish.

Good story.

Her responce to getting her rectal temp taken was incredible, something i will never forget.

What was her response?

I graduated from college in the late 70's, and remember seeing rectal and oral thermometers for sale in the campus bookstore. It looked like several had been sold already, and it just left me with this image of a hot girl with one stuck up her butt. I'm sure that on a campus of several thousand students, of all nationalities, there had to have been a handful who took their temps. rectally, although I never personally heard about it. Some of the posters on this site, were apparently luckier than I was.

I had a friend in college who always took his temperature rectally. He really thought nothing of it. Definitely didn’t have a fetish it was just what he did. I remember his roommate being freaked out by it a bit because he had no problem taking his temperature in front of him.

(Raises hand...)

Yes, I had some time with the rectal thermometer in my dorm room.

I took my own temperature pretty regularly - always in private or at least discreetly under the covers at night.

One time freshman year when I wasn't feeling well I actually asked my roommate (who was a friend from high school) to get me my thermometer and actually help me take it. Had it not been later at night I might have asked him to go to the drug store to buy an oral one for me. He obliged and took it a few times, though he certainly thought it was weird that I had that kind of thermometer. He made a little joke about it late in the school year - the RAs distributed a poll at year end to help memorialize the year on our floor and one of the questions was something like "most memorable experience in the dorm." My roommate pretended he was going to write "penetrating my roommate with a rectal thermometer."

I also had some suppositories - cough medicine ones that I had bought over the summer in canada (where they were first used on me during a prior trip to visit family). They're actually quite effective. I used them sometimes (I don't think my roommate knew) and offered them to the same roommate (who took my temp) when he got a terrible cough that wasn't responding to cough drops or usual cough syrup. He surprisingly used them. He inserted by himself, though I have to admit it was fun watching him do it. :-)

It was definitely fun doing this in a tiny dorm room, knowing that other guys might have knocked on the door or heard something. Or perhaps someone might have seen the supplies if they opened the wrong drawer. (We made sure the door was locked!)