When I was 16, I stuffed myself with a couple of footlong hotdogs after football practice. I hung out with friends until quite late, and went home with horrible gut pains. My parents had just got home also. My mom figured I was just constipated/impacted and I found myself receiving a couple of large enemas as I desperately needed relief.
While I had learned to enjoy enemas by then, these enemas were truly needed under the circumstances. I was in no position to get satisfactory enjoyment. Needless to say, I suffered all night and didn't sleep. By morning, my mom finally called the doctor. I heard one side of the discussion and mom told the doctor she had given me a couple of enemas.
I was told that I was to get dressed for a trip to the ER. At the ER, I was poked, prodded, and quizzed about my circumstances. I was asked if the enemas had given me any relief and I answered that they had not. After discussing my abdominal pain, enemas, and all manner of health issues, I was wheeled into a prep room. There I was shaved totally and told that my appendix was the likely culprit. Since I hadn't eaten anything else for nearly 18 hours, no more enemas were advised. My white cell count was through the roof.
I had my appendix removed in the 60's, the old fashioned way. The incision was about 5 inches long. I languished in the hospital for several days and had to be catheterized several times to pee. After 3 days, I still hadn't pooped, and not allowed to eat until my bowels were functional. My mom was irritated as it appeared I'd be there for a few more days. She was constantly telling the nurses to give me an enema.
This occurred in front of 3 other guys in the ward. Two were much older, and the other just about my age. The two older guys said they expected an enema any time because they had hemorrhoid surgery and couldn't go without the help. The other kid had no clue what to expect himself.
Finally, enema day came about. The bubbly nurse came into the ward and announced that we'd all be getting an enema that morning. She would be doing the honors and each of our doctors had given the okeydokey. The old guys got theirs first. It was apparently a painful thing due to their surgery. They shared their complaints with all in proximity.
My turn came up and the nurse quietly said she knew I was experienced with enemas and asked if I would be a good example for the other kid who was apprehensive. She prepared a soapy enema in front of us both and drew the curtain as she had me roll to my side. She rubbed me down with lotion and was quite vocal asking how I was feeling. She lubricated me and inserted the tubing. As the flow started, she asked again if that was comfortable. I found that enema very comfortable and my involuntary reactions didn't disagree.
In any case, when it was finished, I emptied and got a favorable inspection of the results. I was going to go home that afternoon. I listened to my roomie get his enema and he was no worse for the wear. I reminded myself discretely, that an enema would still work for my libido.
Mom wasn't done with me after I was convalescing at home. I got to eat, but sure was kept regular while taking those pain killers.