I was 13 years old and that spring I began to develop asthma again. When I was several years younger I had a mild case of asthma and I was taken to our family pediatrician quite frequently. Because I was entering my teens my mom now switched my doctor to a regular physician and I stopped going to our old pediatrician. I remember that spring day very clearly when my mom picked me up from school and told me that we had a doctors appointment, but not at my new doctor. She had made an appointment with my old pediatrician because my new doctor was on vacation. Well I was horrified. I hated going to that doctor. It was very 1960's in it's decoration. There were pictures of scary clowns and other circus acts on the walls and the waiting room was very dark and musty smelling. I really hated the idea of going to a children's doctor and was even more embarrassed to be seen there because the girl that I had a mad crush on lived right across the street from the office and I did not want her to see me going there.
It had been several years since I'd been there and as soon as I walked in the waiting room the musty smell took me back ten years. All of the nurses there were very kind older women who dressed in the traditional white uniform and white hats. They always smelled of very strong perfume. I sat down on the long cushioned bench next to the frosted window of the nurse's desk and it slid open and my mom informed the nurse that we had arrived. A few minutes later the big heavy door opened and the lady in white called out my name. We got up and followed her down the short hallway and she told me to turn right and go into the last exam room on the right at the end of the hall. I recognized the nurse from several years ago because she looked exactly the same.
There was a large white scale and an eye exam chart with all of the big and small letters on it hanging on the wall. The nurse told me to step up on the scale and weighed me and recorded my weight on the chart on her clipboard. She then instructed me to go in undress to my white BVD's. As I took off all of my clothes and socks my mom took off her coat and sat on the one chair next to the little desk and I hopped up and sat on the exam table where the nurse had laid a fresh piece of that stiff noisy white paper. I looked around the room and noticed that old familiar shelf in the corner were there were several medical instruments. Tongue depressors, cotton balls, syringes, and a shiny yellow rectal fever thermometer standing in a round cylinder filled with some liquid, probably alcohol. Next to the thermometer was a half used white toothpaste looking tube with a dark blue label that contained a white cream that I remember the nurses squeezed onto the thermometers. I was always really uncomfortable about having my temperature taken rectally but I figured since I was now almost fourteen they would not be using this method during my visit that day. Well, I was wrong.
The nurse had left the room for a few minutes but I heard her footsteps coming back down the hallway. She came back into the exam room and closed the door behind her and walked towards the two windows across from where I sat. She then said "o.k., I want you to lay down on your tummy and just relax, I'm going to take your temperature." As she was saying this to me she was pulling down the shades on the two windows to ensure total privacy and make me feel as comfortable as possible. I was so traumatized by her words that I began to tremble a bit. I could not believe that I was fourteen years old and this nurse wanted to insert a baby thermometer into my anus. It can't be true! I wanted to open the door and make a run for it.
The room was sort of cold and I had nothing on except my skimpy underpants. The nurse then walked back to the shelf where the thermometer was and pulled it out of the glass holder and shook it down in four or five violent snaps of her wrist. She then picked up the tube of white cream, unscrewed the cap and squeezed and inch of the lubricant along the thermometers edge. Although she asked me to lay down I was still sitting straight up, frozen with indecision of what to do next. She approached me with the greased fever thermometer in hand and looked me in the eyes and said once again, "o.k. I'm going to need you to lay flat on your belly for a few minutes, o.k.? I looked at my mom and she impatiently said "C'mon Andrew lay down, the nurse has to take your "temp". I always hated when she said temp. When she took my temperature orally she said the whole word TEMPERATURE but when she took it rectally she always just said TEMP! Well, at this point my anxiety had grown so strong that I felt like I was going to have diarrhea. I asked the nurse if I could first go to the bathroom before we took my temp. She agreed and my mom told me to try and be quick about it. I walked down the hall and went into the bathroom and locked the door and tried to poop but I just could not let loose. I stayed in there for about ten minutes just to avoid going back to face that invasive thermometer, and my mom came and knocked on the door and asked me if I was alright. I unlocked the door and came out and followed her back to the exam room where the nurse was sitting and writing something at the small desk. At the edge of the desk the thermometer was resting on a tissue and the lube cream was still intact.
The nurse asked "feeling better now hun ?" I quickly said "no, I feel kind of sick". She then said "well lets check and see what the thermometer tells us, you may have a little fever". My mother sat back down and I looked at her and asked her if they could use the kind of thermometer that goes in my mouth. The nurse jumped in and said "well Andrew, we don't really like to use those thermometers here because they are not very accurate. And I promise you that this won't hurt bit". At this point my mom began to grow impatient with me and raised her voice saying "ANDY! LAY DOWN----ON YOUR STOMACH---RIGHT NOW! DON'T TELL THE NURSE HOW TO DO HER JOB O.K.!
My mother was always a little intolerant when she lost her patience. So all at once I just decided to give it up. There was no use fighting it any longer. I swung my legs up on the table and turned my face to the wall in shame and surrendered my unwilling behind to the mercy of the nurse. Once again I was trembling. The nurse saw this and tried her best to comfort me. She said "honey, this will only take a few minutes and then it will all be over.....o.k.? Just relax dear, and with that down came my underpants to just above my knees. At that moment I felt so incredibly naked and embarrassed. That gassy, diarrhea feeling was still in my belly and I thought to myself "oh my god what if I fart or something when she puts the thermometer in me. I will jump off a bridge if anything like that should happen. I then felt her warm hand on my right buttock and the cold hard, slimy instrument penetrate me and the first thing I remember thinking was, oh yeah, I remember that feeling. It's not so bad. I felt every centimeter of the rectal thermometer going in, not because of it's coldness but because my butt hole was so tense with anxiety. I guess that's why she put so much lube on it.
She then quickly yanked my underpants back up over my naked cheeks while my behind sucked on the glassy numbered instrument. I was so glad she pulled my underpants back up to give me at least some privacy during the invasion because I remembered that during my earlier visits to this office the nurse would just leave my bloomers down at my knees. She then reached up on another shelf and grabbed and egg timer and handed it to me. She told me that when the sand filled up the bottom part the thermometer would be ready to be taken out. The nurse then began to take my pulse as she was conversing with my mom .