Asking mom why

I truly believe that a lot of our moms thought they were doing the right thing when they gave us enemas as a child, but I remember asking mom why. Her reply was the doctor instructed her ,now looking back I wonder if the doctor I had wasn't perverted in some ways because mom wouldn't have probably giving them to me if it wasn't for the doctor

That could be the reason in your case rj2real, but sorry to say in my case I think it was the opposite. I really think my mom really enjoyed giving me an enema. Even though I was young, I could tell it was not a chore for her to do so. I also think she got enjoyment having my sister and young aunt there watching the preparation and her giving me the enema. My mother and I are not that close today, not sure if it's because of those enemas she gave me but I do think it has something to do with it. I think the worst ones were when at two different times she let my sister's friend watch with my sister as I got an enema.

Rj2real,

I don't think your doctor was perverted unless he was present for all the enemas he prescribed, and you didn't mention that he was.

As far as asking my mom why I was to receive one, the answer was obvious without needing to ask. I was either constipated and in discomfort from the condition or I was ill with a cold or flu. In our home anyone who was sick with either, meaning not only me but my 3 sisters, my mother, aunt, grandmother and father experienced the same treatment for those illnesses. Each of us had our own enema bags and colon tubes and during flu season several bags and tubes would be hanging in the bathroom to dry. Although all enemas were given privately it was easy to tell who had had the enemas because our initials with India waterproof ink were on the bags and tubes.

Marlene

I don't remember ever asking mom why. I believe she administered (and took) frequent enemas because that was the way she grew up and thought a "good enema" was necessary at the first sign of illness and also as a preventative measure. Although there was never any sexual aspect to her enemas, she would exclaim frequently either during or after one of her thorough sessions "now doesn't that feel good?" I do recall her having sessions with dad in the bathroom that lasted quite awhile and suspect now that there was a little more than just bowel cleansing going on in there.

There was very little discussion in my childhood about the need for an enema, probably only an assurance that a good cleaning out would make us feel better whether sick in bed or just constipated and cranky from it. Our family doctor was on board with that, so getting orders from him was unnecessary.

I never had to ask mom why, because she very early and frequently told me what was going to happen and why. My enemas were not very big as a child, and mom's statement that you will feel much better after all that poop is out of you turned out to be very true. So not much argument from me when it was suggested that, "A little water will help you go, and you will feel better."

The question "why" was never raised. Instead "how much?" and "when are we done?" were more like the questions. "I don't need one" and "I don't want one" were statements and largely ignored, too.

Just to add to my previous post here:: Like Westy, and I suspect many others here, the 'don't want, don't need" argument was common and unsuccessful virtually all of the time.

Marlene has already posted here but I need to.

Up to age 9 my mother gave terrible enemas; the bag was too high, the flow was too fast and they were very soapy; small remnants of Ivory soap were put stored in a quart jar of water and several ounces of the resulting liquid was poured into the enema bag, there were also several soap remnants of ivory was floated in the bag as the enema was given.

When told I was going to be given an enema I would ask why and was told that the Doctor said I needed to have it. I hated and fought every one of them, and my resistance earned me spankings to stop my resistance!

Then when I was nine my appendix ruptured and I spent 14 days in the hospital and was given 9 enemas the right way. From that time on my whole outlook about enemas changed from acceptance to outright desire.

Marvin

I think a simple gut washing is logical. Look at all the hand washing, and stink washing. Doctors are allowed common sense too, aye? Often, today's MDs are criticized for being puppets for the modern pharmacopeia. The other day I heard of a respected neurosurgeon recommending chiropractic care. You have to know his schooling did not teach him that. Doctors have to be academic and thorough at the same time. I believe MDs today, with the plethora of queers and klismos, are afraid of recommending the obvious because of the stigma. But hey, it's OK to recommend mood altering dope, WHY?

I never asked, just trusted in her judgement!

Never asked why... but was relieved afterwards.

Marvin, I really liked your story. My mom was like yours in that she held the bag way too high and didn't burp the air from the hose-just get it over fast, which was painful as hell. I got my first SSE in the hospital from a student nurse and she was gentle and got it all in without cramps. I was 17 and my whole outlook changed.

Today's physicians are under countless pressures from legal malpractice possibilities, gov't. intrusion, insurance companies, hospital policies. The Fleet Co. offered a way to quickly induce a B.M. with little fuss from patients. Nursing workload has become paramount and disposables offer a fast way to lower their heavy workload.

I never asked why, I just hung on and endured mom's enemas. But common sense told me to lower the bag, expel the air, lube the nozzle and my hormones were becoming very active, so I began self administration about age 8-9. By age 12, my mother was getting embarrassed by my pubic hair and erections and allowed me to self administer what she had prepared. I got to be quite good at taking an entire bag and combined it with stimulation. I would fake constipation every chance I got and loved every one I took. That was MANY years ago and I'm still going strong.

I was married to an R.N. from the old days and she was a "pro" at giving large volume enemas and I would fake bowel problems weekly and got many from her, usually followed by intense sex. Those aren't taught in nursing schools anymore. I think the only medial professionals who are taught large volume enemas are radiology techs. and those are fading away with colonoscopies and drinking PEG solutions. Many of us klysmos from the 50's are dying off and I fear that large volume irrigations will die with us.

If I ever do find my Mom alive, and I suspect she may already be dead, because the trail has been cold for so long, I will first want to ask her why she left. The subject of enemas will eventually come up, but maybe not in the first meeting.

I never asked why, I just got themy weekly till I was 13. Mom said for good health, that was it or get spaked and then thee enemas, always got three in a row

I never had to ask. She was mom and she knew what was good for me. I knew not to question her

Dear Lisa I was saddened your post about your mom. Evidently you have done well with your life inspite of her leaving.

I never ever throughout my whole childhood had an enema .I was 29 when I got my first one .That was a small fleet enema before I had a sigmoidoscopy.

I did not ask her why back then when I got enemas. I really want to find out why now but do not want to raise the topic. It had nothing to do with doctor instructions. They always felt abusive, not done out of love. Maybe I will finally ask her when she's on her deathbed.

I never asked why because I trusted her and her reasons and still many years later feel thesame!

I never had to ask why, she told me why. When I hadn't gone to the bathroom in a few days, she would give me a laxative and they never worked. She would then tell me that since I couldn't move my bowels, she was going to have to use the syringe on me to make them move. Despite my pleading for more time, I would soon find myself face down on a towel in the bathroom as she mixed up a bowl full of Ivory soapsuds and proceded to give me a "good syringing" with the dreaded bulb syringe. No matter how much I protested she continued until she was certain that I had taken enough for the enema to be effective. As she promised, she made my bowels move. After her thorough syringing I was definetly cleaned out.

In our house, resistance was not futile, it was not needed! The bag was always on the back of the bathroom door and it was usually wet! My mom never hid her taking an enema and even asked if I needed or wanted a "bag of water". I remember one time being at a cousins house and getting threatened with an enema if I didn't stop eating so much candy. I remember my mom commenting that enemas didn't scare me at all and I'd probably eat MORE candy just to get one from "auntie". "Those were the days, my friend, I thought they'd never end" but sadly, they did.

There was a time when enemas were the cure all for everything from headaches to constipation. I think at that times most doctors and parents viewed them as a necessity. I am sure there were perverted doctors and parents who abused the use of enemas and caused severe mental and emotional trauma due to excessive use of enemas!!!

My Mom was a RN before she married Dad, so she knew how to give them quite well. She only gave them to my brother and I when we needed them

and my Dad was a receiver as well, though I do suspect there was a sexual overtone between them during Dad's Enemas. I never asked her why she gave them...

that was understood. Once when I was a young kid during one of those sessions to me,I asked her what the Bigger [douche] nozzle was for. Since I was too young to

understand female things, she told me that it was to give enemas to fat people. Our family had a Green Combo bag [Centurion I believe it was] with green hose metal clamp

and those black nozzles of the times. We also had a couple of bulb syringes. It was not really until later when I was given an SSE in the hospital by a very pretty nurse

who later became my girlfriend that my interest and my finally being "hooked" took hold.

Growing up in our home, you could ask "why" and the answer really didn't matter that much because if we reached the point where I was about to position myself across mom's lap the decision had been made and there was no turning back no matter what the discussion.

I never knew why and I never asked why. I always thought they had something to do with my being sick. I never felt sick at the time I was called to get an enema. And I know there were times when I was sick and did not receive any enemas. I came to believe that enemas were good for children and mom was just being dutiful.

When i needed a pill .. Mom gave me a pill. No big deal. When it was time for dinner .. Mom made dinner and we ate it. When i had a cut .. Mom cleaned it .. put on a band aid .. no big deal. If i had a cough .. Mom gave me cough medicine. It was just something that Mom did almost without making a big deal out of it .. no real discussions .. i just did what she told me to .. and believed what was done was what was best. No real fuss unless i was feeling pretty sick and cranky .. that sort of thing.

When i was constipated .. or a fever .. or coming down with something .. Mom would just stay calm .. cool .. caring .. and say i may need an enema .. or most times .. she would just tell me to take my PJ's off .. or my clothes .. and she got my enema ready. It was not some dramatic type of production .. just something that needed to be done .. and i didn't really mind and even liked my time alone with Mom even while i was being given an enema. i may be looking back on those times when Mom gave me enemas with rose colored glasses .. but i think this was a special time where i could talk 'girl talk' with her. That carried over to later when she gave me my own enema bag and let me decide when and how much.

Enemas just were something done .. and i'm glad. 😃

We grew up with the threat of an enema, and it was always in the ready. Mom would say "you do this you may need an enema, or you should get an enema" Those words were OK with us but when Mom said "You going to get an enema. No more talk thats what you got.

I never had to directly ask because my dad carefully explained everything and made sure I knew what to expect. He even let me insert the nozzle and control the flow, while challenging me to take as much as I could, because it would make me feel so much better afterward.

My mother never gave me an enema when I was a child. She just told me how to do it. The first time was when i was four or so. She definitely thought they were a good idea. She did finally give them to me when I was in a spica cast after fracturing my hip. Since I requested them after telling her I was constipated (or words to that effect) it was always apparent why .