WHO KNEW ENEMAS COULD BE SUCH FUN...NOT ME!

          

Napping in My Blue Bonnet

        I Went to the hospital yesterday to see if the cancer tumor, which is located in the back passage (rear end, rectum, ass hole) had receded or not after undergoing radiation and chemo treatments. Before I mention the outcome let me tell you how my day went. To begin with, when I awoke, I had thoughts of the upcoming procedure bustling about inside my head, which meant sticking a scope up my rear end; the doc has to get up close and personal to check out the tumor, put his eyeball up to a hairy key hole so to speak. Well...my arse hole was very, very tender at that moment and just thinking about it, made me cringe. However, pain or no pain, it's something that had to be done so off we went, a 1.5 hour drive to the hospital. After I signed in, I was greeted by a smiling nurse who immediately showed me where my locker was located before ushering me into a little changing room. As soon as I stripped off all my clothes except my socks, I put on a "johnny" outfit, which consists of two blue night gowns. Getting into the first one can be a bit challenging since it goes on backwards and the other one is worn like a kimono. I was hardly a fashion statement until I graced my feet with blue plastic slippers and tucked my long shaggy white hair into a blue paper bonnet. Looking in the mirror took me back to when I modeled tuxedos on a runway while escorting pretty girls on my arm who were wearing gorgeous glittery graduation gowns. After I crammed all my clothes including my shoes into a big plastic bag and then crammed it into the locker I wandered out to where the other patients were lying in beds awaiting their turn at the OR. I'd no sooner arrived, when a nurse, pony tail jauntily dangling down past her shoulders, who must have taken her daily dose of happy pills, happily introduced me to a couple of other smiling nurses before showing me to a bed. My wife Sarah was waiting for me in a bedside chair. She wasn't taking any chances with the nurses coming onto me. I mean a 76 year old guy sporting a cascade of wrinkles in need of a good ironing, and being dressed in a glamorous "Johnny" outfit can be a real come on - well...maybe to a 90 year old blind woman suffering from a double dose of degenerating dementia (chuckle, chuckle). 

        I'd no sooner climbed into bed, pulled the flannelette sheet up to my shoulders when two nurses barged through the curtain, which encircled the bed. They had an ECG machine in tow and before I knew it, one of them stuck electrodes all over my chest, while the other one wrapped my right arm in order to take my blood pressure. Everyone seemed so happy, it was as if I had arrived at my own surprise party until I heard, "Now Mr. Sherman, now that we've got you all plugged in, it's time to play Pin the Tail on the Donkey. Would you mind lying on your left side and sliding your legs up. Ah, yes, that's it. Perfect!"

          Up till then, they had me, I was cheery, boy was I cheery. I was smiling away, as happy as a laughing lark, that is until I felt a cold frigid hand on my warm right biscuit and then a plastic nozzle slowly sliding up into my narrow and I suspect swollen back passage. I could feel heat building inside me as she repeatedly but slowly squeezed a small plastic bottle containing a clear solution. When the nurse had finished giving me an enema she said, "Try to hold it in for 20 minutes." Very funny - within 4 minutes, I had the edge of my hand squeezed tightly between the clenched cheeks of my ass trying to keep from shitting myself. It didn't work and my ass was dripping as I quickly leaped out of bed and made a dash to the men's washroom. Then, like a volcano, no longer able to contain the heat within me, it burst forth and I erupted a load of hot turds hissing into the toilet bowl. It hurt like a son of a bitch, my ass felt like it was on fire when the smiley nurse with the pony tail entered the bathroom, looked at my meager deposit and said, "We'll have to give you another enema." 

          Upon hearing the nurse's words, I felt my ass drop and bounce off my heels. However, since she looked so ecstatically happy, her pony tail bouncing up and down with delight, how could I deny her the simple pleasure of squeezing something up my ass? When she checked out the results in the toilet bowl, she almost seemed to beam with joy - perhaps she enjoyed scaring me shitless. 

          Not long after the enema ordeal, my bed was wheeled into the OR, where the anesthetist, a skinny, emaciated elderly lady awaited. I remember lying on my left side and looking up at a clock on the wall, the seconds ticking off in big red numbers and then nothing - lights out! When I woke up, I was in another room and had no idea how long I had been out. Although I was slightly dazed, I couldn't feel any more pain after the scope ordeal. I was a little disappointed to learn that the doctor wasn't going to tell us anything personally, seems he was still up to his arm pits in someone else's A-hole. However, he had left a pen and ink sketch illustrating my dilemma and mentioned that it was a "small residual tumor with significant regression", so we were happy with the results. We have an appointment to see the doctor in a week, so I'm really hoping, keeping my fingers crossed that he will tell us there's a good chance of reversing the operation, he'll get my ass end up and working again...peace, eh - Trip

 My wife and I recently started up an Etsy Store a little while ago and if you'd like to check out our artistic creations just click on the link.