I was able to observe while my wife was given an enema during a
hospital stay. This during the early 70’s. Here’s what happened.
Maryanne and I had been married for about seven years. I’ve been a
klismo since a teenager but had never mentioned the fact to her. She was
a nurse working at our local hospital. She gave enemas to patients
sometimes and seemed to accept them as just part of her job. I was never
able to ascertain how she felt about them personally, if they were of
any interest to her as they were to me.
One afternoon she collapsed while on duty and was quickly admitted as a
patient. To make a long story shorter, there was nothing seriously wrong
with her. A combination of being run down from long hours of duty and a
virulent flu strain laid her low in a hurry. It took about three days of
bed rest for her to begin to get back to her old self. I spent all the
time I could at her bedside. This was mostly in the mornings since I
worked the afternoon shift.
We were talking the fourth morning and thinking about her coming home,
the doctor indicated that he might release her the next day. She thought
she might have relapsed a bit, hadn’t slept well and was a little
uncomfortable. Her nurse came in and greeted her. “Well, how are we this
The nurse was a cousin to my wife and they knew each other well. “Oh, OK
Janice,” as she forced a half hearted smile.
The nurse took her blood pressure and temperature, then listened to her
chest with her stethoscope. “You’re sounding better, feel like going
home?” That brought a big smile and a nod. She made some notes on the
chart and said “We’ll see if we can get you out of here soon.”, and left.
About this time I decided to get up and walk around, stretch my legs and
get myself a cup of coffee. As I walked past the nurses’ station on my
way to the cafeteria, her cousin stopped me. “Is Maryanne really OK? She
seemed very listless and lethargic.“She’s been complaining that her
stomach is uncomfortable,” I volunteered with a twinge of excitement
over where that might lead.
“I thought so!! She didn’t seem right. I don’t think she’s done anything
since she’s been in here. The doctor said she could go home tomorrow so
I was trying to decide whether or not she needed an enema before she’s
dismissed. So now I’ll schedule her for one for sure.”
I couldn’t believe my ears!! I got my coffee and hurried back to the
I sat in the chair next to my wife’s bed on pins and needles waiting for
Janice (my wife’s cousin) to reappear. She didn’t. Time dragged on. It
was getting time for me to leave for work and still no Janice or enema
Finally Janice returned and questioned Maryanne. “Have you had a BM
since you’ve been in here, Maryanne ?”
My wife meekly shook her head no.
“Why don’t you try on your own this afternoon? I’d like to have you go
on your own before you’re discharged or else we’ll have to get the
I had to leave for work and said good bye to Maryanne. I could barely
concentrate on my job all night wondering what was happening at the
hospital. I got a bite to eat on my way home the tossed and turned all
night. The idea that Maryanne might be having an enema was overwhelming.
I got to the hospital about 8:30AM and went directly to Maryanne’s room.
She was awake and smiled weakly as I came in. I could sense that she was
upset and felt a bit of excitement concluding she was going to tell me
about being given an enema. But she remained subdued and silent. We
exchanged small talk but I couldn’t pinpoint what was bothering her.
Finally I asked whether she was really coming home today.
That broke the ice. "Janice was in first thing this morning and told me
that I was being discharged today, but she also said that I have to have
an enema before I can leave!” she blurted out.
I acted surprised. “Really? Why?”
“Cause I haven’t gone since I’ve been here, so you get an enema,” she
explained. “I don’t want one of those things, I hate them! Ugh! It’s
humiliating and disgusting and they hurt. I don’t need one,” she
“Are you sure? You’ve been miserable the last two days,” I tried to be
“I’ll get better on my own at home.”
“Well, what are you going to do if they come? Can you get out of it ?” I
“I’ll get through it somehow, I guess.”
Pretty soon Janice came into the room carrying what obviously was an
enema concealed under a towel. She laid the setup down on the edge of
the bed and announced, “Let’s get you ready to go home, Maryanne.” Then
she looked squarely at me, “Would you step out for a few minutes while I
do a treatment on your wife?”
I reluctantly rose to leave and suddenly Maryanne spoke up, “NO! Let him
stay, I want him to stay with me.” I looked at Janice and she nodded her
concurrence. I sat back down in the chair and concentrated on concealing
my pleasure at this turn of events.
Janice cranked the bed down until it was flat and spread the towel along
the edge, then had Maryanne turn on her side and scoot her bottom on to
the towel and draw her knees up toward her chest. The enema was a
plastic bag with a length of clear tubing exiting the bottom. It was
already filled with the soap suds solution and it bulged. The end of the
tubing was covered with a green sheath that Janice removed and laid
aside. She picked up a packet of lubricant and snipped the end off with
her bandage scissors then inserted the end of the tubing into the packet
to pick up some of the lubricant. She lifted Maryanne’s upper buttock
and inserted the tubing into her for several inches. Janice picked the
bag up and held it above Maryanne and opened the clamp on the tubing.
I had stood up and stepped next to the bed and touched Maryanne’s cheek.
She reached up and took my hand and squeezed when Janice inserted the
tubing. The enema began to fill her and she moaned softly and wreathed
on the bed slightly as she experienced cramping and discomfort, all the
while squeezing my hand tighter. Her breathing was labored but I could
see that she intended to take the enema without showing any open signs
of distress in front of Janice. I brushed her cheek with my free hand
and smoothed her hair. I rubbed her shoulders and back. The bag was
emptying slowly and it became more difficult for Maryanne to hold on.
Breathing became labored and a tear slid down her cheek on to the linen.
My excitement at seeing my beautiful wife bravely taking her enema rose
in proportion to the bag emptying. I was spellbound. Janice, too, was
giving her words of encouragement and telling Maryanne how well she was
doing. “Only a little more, your doing so well.” The bag was empty and
Janice removed the tubing. Maryanne lay there for a few minutes then
Janice and I helped her up and walked her into the lavatory attached to
the room. We sat her down and closed the door for her.
I took her home later that morning. Maryanne told me how grateful she
was that I had stayed with her during “that ordeal.” It was evident that
she did not enjoy the experience one bit and was definitely not inclined
to be a Klismophile like me. I’ve never told her about my enema
interests or about the role I played in prompting her enema experience.