If a doctor describes something is mild, they mean medium, and if a doctor describes something as medium, they really mean itâs something thatâs going to give a little bit of a slap, so when I downed a pint of so called âstrongâ laxatives I think that perhaps I should have taken precautions of setting up camp within a 1 meter radius of the toilet. Admittedly having almost shit myself after my dosage I almost shat myself once more after reading that I was to undertake a home enema, an enema, by definition is â a procedure of introducing liquids into the rectum and colon via the anusâ, now back to reality, it really means squirting water up your backside and washing all the shit out then sat on the loo squeezing the liquid parp out on your not only brown, but now sore ring hole. Fine, I thought flicking through my booklet of mildâs and moderates I can do this, I researched âhome enemasâ, via Google of course, I stepped back from the screen and almost squeezed another out, thatâs a nurses job. I found myself sitting in a hospital waiting room awaiting a visit from a the consultant, instead I was greeted by a frail, elderly nurse who looks like she retired 20 odd years ago, I removed my clothing and put on my snazzy, oversized robes and was led into what looked like an operating theater, I remember thinking to myself, there are an awful lot of nurses here whom are going to be peering into my hairy hoop. I lay on the table, thanking fuck I managed to escape an enema, the doc lubed up his already greasy looking hands and attempted to insert a number (of what felt like all 5) up my arse, nope too dry, he apologized and dunked his mits into the tub of lube. The camera went in, it was ok a first, then I remembered that the bowel was a fairly large organ, and wasnât straight. Bollocks, he pumped air in to stretch the tissue to maneuver round the bends, I felt shit dribble out and I clenched my now numb face, I let out a sigh when he retracted, bad thinking. Why? I have made a simple equation to explain: Runny poo + heavy wind Ã· a tight space = a spray of shit According to the doc there was too much shit for him to see what he was doing; I had to go for an enema. Maybe a good looking nurse would ease the pain; maybe concealing a boner would take my mind off the liquid being squeezed up my arse. I was met by a weird, gangly middle aged man, very nervous chap, once he had me in the right position (again naked) he asked me âwhat next thenâ, I replied â I assume that pouch goeâs up my anus mateâ, he sniggered and got on with it, I got the feeling he gave an extra squeeze for good luck. Done, now I needed a shit, a shit of runny brown stuff, part water, part lube, part stool, I jogged to the toilet to find skidders in my pants, and after 10 seconds of being sat there, a toilet half full of what can only be described as milky brown porridge. 45 mins later I was asked to hobble (careful not to spread he shit outside my crack) back onto the bed and have the camera inserted once more, this time he pumped air in 5 times, took 3 biopsies (shavings of the organ, bastard) and yanked the camera out like he was switching off a fucking toilet light. I fell asleep in the nurseâs clinic after my ordeal, only to wake and find crusty poo around my arse, my arse cheeks and half way to by socks.