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>I got several enemas growing up. Most were given by >my grandmother, an old-fashioned nurse, or at her >direction. None of the enemas were pleasant, but some >were more uncomfortable than others. The most painful >one may have been when I was 8 or 9 and my grandmother >decided that I was old enough for a "big girl" enema. >Translation: I was going to get a full two quarts of >soapsuds rather than the pint I had previously gotten. > That's a huge jump and the extra pressure made me >feel like I was going to explode. I started >complaining at the halfway mark, but it did no good. >My complaints were met with: "You can--and will!--take >the whole thing." "If you don't take the entire bag, >we'll have to start over and repeat the enema." "If >you don't stop whining and complaining, I'll give you >a darn good spanking." She didn't have to hold me >down; her verbal threats were enough to get me to >cooperate. The raw deal: Even though I took the full >two quarts and held it for the required 5 minutes, she >decided to give me another because of "inadequate" >results. I still remember those enemas as an hour of >hell. The cramping was terrible.

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