The nurse began pumping the cold solution deep into my bowls with the third bulb. With that and each subsequent squeeze of that bulb, I could feel the pressure build as the solution gushed up into my bowls. The nurse pulled the stool around to the other side of the table and sat down with her face just a couple of feet (60 cm) from my own. She looked into my eyes and quietly said in measured tones, "this will be a lot easier if you just try to stay relaxed. I'll watch your face and if I see that we're going too fast I'll slow down and wait for you to relax, OK honey?" This made me wonder what had happened to Ms. Martin, or Leslie since we had first met less than an hour ago.
The nurse pumped the squeeze bulb every few seconds and with each squeeze my discomfort grew. I was intently determined, however, to show absolutely no signs of discomfort because I got the distinct impression that the nurse was actually enjoying my torment. Even so, the nurse could see the obvious signs of distress despite my efforts to conceal them. "Massage your tummy and take deep breaths, Leslie", the nurse said as she continued to look into my eyes and rhythmically squeeze the bulb.
As waves of cramps hit me, I massaged them away. It took about 10 minutes to slowly pump what I reckoned to be about three quarts (3100 cc) of the milky white solution in to me. I had long since realized that the enema was not only large and cold, it was also specifically designed to stimulate my bowls. Well before we finished, I had a very intense urge to defecate; however when she had finished her work, the nurse told me to roll over on my back despite my pleadings to use the toilet. I complied and she began to massage my belly to move the solution around in my tortured intestines. I was soon begging for the toilet again; but she told me that we would have to wait ten minutes for the enema to "work." And it certainly did work!
When I was finally allowed to go to the toilet, I was handed an absorbent pad that I held against my back side as I ran to the toilet behind the half wall to prevent junk from spewing out of me onto the floor. After several minutes of evacuating my roiled bowls, I thought it was over. But, over the next 15 minutes, more and more came out. As I sat on that toilet, I thought, "God this is punishment, not research", but then I thought of the $1,300 and relaxed. When I was eventually finished, I used a bidet and a nearby soap dispenser to clean myself up, both conveniently located adjacent to the toilet by people who obviously knew how this room would be used. I emerged from behind the half wall after washing my hands to see the nurse hanging another bag, this time with clear fluid.
"Oh, you can't be serious," I said, "please, not another one." She responded, "Sorry Honey, we need to rinse you out. This is just salty water and its very close to body temperature. It should be kind of soothing."
When I got back on the table, she placed me in "Lithotomy" position, flat on my back with my feet well back and apart in the stirrups. Again, this was a position that I'd subsequently become quiet familiar with during the course of the study. The nurse had me slide my bottom down to the end of the table and told me to, "let (my) legs flop open".
Soon the water filled me again. We waited a few minutes during which I massaged my belly. Then I was let down to "go", however, the nurse told me not to flush this time. Junk still came out of me but it was mostly clear water. After inspecting the contents of the toilet bowl, the nurse informed me that, "it looks like we will need one more."
This time, the nurse placed me in the "knee chest" or Genupectoral Position, i.e.: on my knees face down, with my shoulders against the table, my back arched slightly concave, my arms at my sides and my knees well apart. I took my third enema of the morning, with my flimsy paper gown and my breasts both dangling down on the table in this startlingly vulnerable and almost obscenely exposed position. Now, the water from my insides ran clear. By this time, I was starting to feel a bit wrung out and cranky, so, as I emerged again from behind the half wall and heard the nurse say, ""Ok up on the table . . I need to get you shaved," I almost lost it.
"Because your contract requires that your pudendum (the entire area between my legs) , perineum (the area between my vagina and my anus) and perianal area (the area around my anus) to be shaved completely . . . This won't be bad at all, so up you go now, Lithotomy Position, please."
I huffed as I stepped up onto the table again and laid back looking at the ceiling. I put my legs into the stirrups and the nurse came over to help me get my feet comfortable and to have me "scoot" my bottom down to the edge of the table. She then touched my knees and gently parted my legs, first just a bit and then wider and wider until she had them about as far apart was they would comfortably go. I was surprised when she went to one of the cabinets and procured two pairs of straps. She placed little straps at each knee, fastened to the accessory rails on each side of the exam table to hold my legs wide open and cinched them down. She then fastened my ankles securely into the stirrups with another pair of straps. She explained that this would relieve me of having to hold my legs back and open for the somewhat protracted "depilation procedure" to follow. The nurse immediately lathered me up and started to take the hair from between my legs. The humiliation was intense and tears came to my eyes and I made a piteous little whimper.
Noticing this, the nurse said, "stop that . . . it will grow back after the research project is over." "Yes, but what will my boy friend say?" I asked somewhat pathetically. "I have no idea what he'll say", she replied sarcastically as she worked the razor over my mons pubis and made her way down over my labia and then back to my perineum and anus.
Just then the door to the exam room burst open and in walked a older man with salt and pepper gray hair and a dignified demeanor wearing a lab coat. The intrusion startled me and I moved my arms to cover my breasts. I couldn't, however, close my legs because the straps held them open. My face turned beet red as I lay there with my sex exposed to this intruder.
"My name is Doctor Bower . . . I will be performing your physical and getting you ready you for today's research", the man said as he took my chart. "I'm a professor of medicine here in the teaching hospital. Is she almost ready, nurse", he asked as he looked up from the chart without even acknowledging me.
"Almost, doctor; but, you should be able to start now while I'm finish up here."
"OK then" he said as he took his stethoscope out of the pocket of his lab coat and came over to my side. He pulled up my gown. My instinct was to pull it back down to preserve my modesty. I look back on this reaction with amusement today, given my already highly exposed state at the time.
The doctor said, "No Ms. Martin. Keep your hands at your sides from here on out or you'll have to be restrained". I allowed him to raise my gown again. Now, the entire lower half of my body was exposed to him. He listen to my heart and had me breath deeply as he listened to my chest. He also listened to my tummy and palpated my abdomen.
"I can see that she's been well prepared, nurse", he said with an air of satisfaction in his voice.
"Yep two suppositories and three enemas" the nurse replied as she finished shaving my perineum and the area around my anus.
He pulled the gown back down and reached behind my head.
"Lift up a little," he said. I lifted my head and he reached behind the base of my neck and broke the paper tie at the top of my gown. When I asked why, he responded curtly, "you won't be wearing it much longer" and proceeded to lower my gown well below my breasts, almost to my navel. As he did so, my hands went up again instinctively. He looked at me sternly and I lowered them to my sides, only to move them subsequently, exactly as instructed, as the breast exam proceeded. He palpated each breast at length, also paying careful attention to my nipples, areola and axilla (arm pits), as well.
"Any pain, tenderness or discharge?" he asked as he "milked" each nipple, rather roughly. I grimaced, but managed to shake my head "no".
"Good", he said and pulled the gown back up over my breasts. The nurse had cleaned up my bottom and left me there. The doctor went over to the counter and put on some gloves and returned to sit on the stool between my spread and restrained legs. The nurse wheeled a tray into place for him and I watched as he put lubricant on his fingers and brought them down between my legs, just out of my sight. I felt the fingers of his right hand at my vaginal opening and then they were inside of me. He took his other hand and pressed down on each side of my lower abdomen just above my pubic bone.
"Any pain or discomfort?", he asked. I shook my head no; but, almost right away his left hand moved up to the vicinity of my left ovary, which he then captured between it and the deeply probing fingers inside my vaginal vault. He palpated my ovary at length. This was uncomfortable and I began to squirm a bit. Then he applied pressure. "Ummmmm!" I grunted in obvious discomfort. But the pressure didn't let up. He continued to roughly palpate my ovary, rolling it back and forth between his probing fingers and his hand. I spoke up to register complaint but the doctor continued as the pitch of my voice rose in unison with my discomfort. "Just bear with me a second more, Leslie, I know that it hurts but I need to carefully access your ovaries before we begin today", he said. He had no sooner finished his sentence than his attention turned to my right ovary, which he captured between his fingers and hand and began to thoroughly palpate, just as he had with my other ovary. He again applied pressure and continued palpation of the ovary. I began to squirm and groan as I experienced substantial but not unbearable discomfort. "Stay with me, almost done here. You're doing a good job, Leslie, just try to relax for me now", he intoned soothingly as the pain shot through my pelvis.
Then just as suddenly as it began, the discomfort was gone and he pulled his fingers out of me and reached for a speculum on the tray. The metal bills slipped into me and opened me up. He used a pen light to look into my open vagina.
"Her cervix is nulliparous and tightly closed. My examination of her hymenal caruncle (the left over tissue from the rupture of my hymen) confirms that she is sexually active . . . nurse, let me have a tenaculum, forceps and a Sigmans stick, please . . . Ms. Martin . . . I'm going to dilate your cervix just a bit . . . you may feel a pinch and then a little cramping", said the doctor, without looking up at me.
"Why....what's it for," I asked. This is all part of the protocol for which you contracted, Leslie." He went on to explain that, "later this morning I will insert a small, sterile, stainless steel flange into your cervix to facilitate a fiber optic study of your uterus and to act as a signal conductor. Because you've never born children, the opening of your cervix is closed tightly. I need to open and dilate it a little so that I'll be able to place the flange." I was dumbfounded and didn't know what to say in reply, so I said nothing.
With that, he put on sterile gloves and the nurse handed him a a long pair of forceps with a cotton ball soaked in Betadine disinfectant solution clamped into its jaws, which he used to thoroughly swab the entire area around my now completely exposed cervix and its os (opening).
I saw the doctor take a very long metal grasping device with a slight beak on the grasping end, called a tenaculum, and heard metal against metal as it went up into me through the bills of the open speculum. I could feel the tenaculum grip my cervix, pull it toward my vaginal opening and then hold it in traction. The feeling was novel but not particularly painful. As the doctor maintained traction on my cervix with the tenaculum, I saw a long pair of forceps with the Sigmans stick locked in its jaws go down between my legs. Again, I could hear the instrument go into the speculum and felt a little "pinch" and then some cramping as it was placed into my cervical os and then pushed up into the lower end of my birth canal. The long forceps and the tenaculum were then removed and I relaxed for a while, but, as the stick absorbed moisture from my endometrium and expanded in the lower end of my birth canal over a period of some minutes, the cramping increased. I complained about the discomfort but the nurse just held my hand. The doctor said, "hang in there for a while, Leslie, good job, your doing fine."
The Sigmans stick remained in place and the speculum was removed. The nurse almost immediately covered me with a pre-warmed blanket and told me to relax for a while, even though I was still in the stirrups. I closed my eyes and drifted a bit, but was distracted by the sound of instruments clanking onto the Mayo Tray as I lay there dreamily.
As I nearly dosed, I felt the doctor's well lubed finger again as it invaded my anus. He inserted it slowly and felt around the entire circumference of my rectum and then advanced his finger a bit further and repeated the whole process again. Then he pushed deeper and explored some more. As he did so, the crooked his finger upward, in the general direction of my belly button and I could actually feel him stroking my "G" spot right through my recto-vaginal wall. I immediately began to feel the first stirring of arousal well up deep inside of me. I took in a deep breath and couldn't help but hold it until he was done.
I opened my eyes just in time to see him pick up something long and metallic from the Mayo Tray that I couldn't quite make out. I heard him say, Leslie, I need you up in the knee chest position, please. As he said this the nurse stepped up to the table to remove the blanket, release the straps on the stirrups and help position me. Once in position, she remained by my side, with her hand in the small of my back, to steady me and to remind me that my back was to remain slightly flexed with my "rump up."
With that, the doctor brought the instrument to my anus and slowly pushed it into me, deeper and deeper, inch by inch, as I felt occasional puffs of air being blown into my bowls from a small tube and bulb connected to the instrument. Every time the doctor squeezed the bulb, air inflated the portion of my bowel just in front of the tip of the instrument to aid the doctor in maneuvering it up through my rectum, my sigmoid colon, my descending colon and all the way to the splenic fixture at it's very top. As the instrument's bullet shaped tip passed my splenic fixture and traveled into the first couple of inches of my traverse colon, I felt an oddly thrilling sensation deep in my belly that made me grunt involuntarily, tighten my abdominal muscles and curl my toes.
The instrument was now in up to its hilt. The doctor un-screwed and removed something from the instrument that looked like a large bullet on the end of a rod. I could then see that the instrument must be at least fourteen inches up into my rectum and that it's bulbous tip was removable. I later learned that this tip and the rod attached to it is called the "Obturator" and that the procedure is called a Rigid Sigmoidoscopy.
The doctor then flipped a little switch on the instrument that lighted its interior and peered into the tubular instrument as he slowly maneuvered it out of me, carefully inspecting the lining of every inch of my sigmoid colon and rectum as he went. Once the instrument was removed, he placed it on the tray for the nurse to take away. I was relieved to notice that it was completely clean.
He took off both gloves and asked me to turn over and re-assume Lithotomy position. As I complied, I couldn't help but make rude noises as I released some of the air that he had inject. Doctor Bower seemed unperturbed by this and assured me that it was completely normal to "pass gas" after such a procedure. Once I was in position and finished "passing gas", he put on new gloves and lubricated two fingers of his right hand with surgical jelly from a tube on the tray. He stood up and placed one hand on my left knee and, with the other, inserted a finger into my vagina and one into my rectum. He seemed to look pensively off into the distance as poked and felt around for a minute or so.
Just then the phone in the exam room rang and the nurse answered. "Yes", she said, "thank you" and then hung up. "Her urine sample is back, but with possible contaminants", she announced.
The doctor made a huffing sound as he disconnected the electronic thermometer to leave the wires to once again jus dangle from my anus. "Well we better get a sterile specimen then," he said as he took off his gloves and left to wash his hands. He soon returned and sat down again between my legs. The nursed placed a packet labeled "sterile gloves" on the tray which the doctor retrieved and put on. He then used his left hand to gently spread my labia with his gloved thumb and forefinger. I felt cool air on my pee hole as he held my lips apart. The nurse handed him a swab soaked in Betadine disinfectant and he swiped it right down the middle of my crack and over my pee hole. "OOOOH", I said. He did this two more times, each time with a fresh swab and each time eliciting the same surprised response from me. The doctor thoroughly cleansed the area above and around my urethral meatus. The nurse handed him yet another swab which then used to burrow just slightly into my urethra. Again, I vocalized my surprise and discomfort. The doctor paid little attention to this and began to twist the swab, thoroughly cleaning the opening before extracting it.
Then the nurse handed him what looked like a vial with a tiny tube attached to it. I felt the tiny tube go into my pee hole and reflexively hissed in some air as it did. A few seconds later, the doctor pulled out the tube and raised the vial up to show the clear yellow urine that he had just collected. He handed the vial to the nurse, pulled off his gloves and told the nurse, "they will be coming for her in about twenty minutes....I'm going to see if the theater is ready." He then washed his hands and left without saying another word. The nurse once again passed the urine specimen through the tiny door in the wall and returned to help me out of the stirrups. She covered me with another warmed blanket, told me to relax for a while and then went about cleaning up the exam room as I rolled onto my side and wondered who was behind the little door and what they knew about what transpired in this room.
As I drifted dreamily, I wondered "What was that all about?..... the doctor sure seemed interested in my bottom", I thought. My hands were between my closed and slightly bent legs and I could feel my smooth, bare crotch. I could also feel the Sigmans stick, still in place in my birth canal, expanding and dilating my cervical os and causing a constant dull, achy cramping.
After about twenty minutes, my reverie was interrupted by the entry of two men in white pants and shirts. These men were both built like bouncers with wide shoulders and body's that were strong and athletic. They were "attendants".
"Ok Leslie, it's time to take you to the theater now," the nurse said. I sat up on the edge of the table trying not to think of the Sigmans stick that was still swelling in one of the most tender parts of my anatomy. I shook all over and my heart pounded, as I stood up. One man walked over to steady me while the other approached me out of the shadows with something in his hand, but exactly what, I couldn't tell.
" Open your mouth, Miss," he said. I looked over at the nurse and she just nodded her head at me. I opened my mouth. The attendant immediately shoved something hard and metallic, coated with rubber, into my mouth. The metal frame now holding my mouth open was pivoted on either side, outside of my mouth, near the pivot of my jaw. The rubber coated part protruded into my mouth between my upper and lower teeth. I heard metallic clicks as the device was ratcheted open to hold my jaws wide apart. A strap was placed around the back of my neck and attached at the pivot points on each side of my face to hold the device firmly in place. I tried repeatedly to work the device out with my tongue or to open my jaw further so that it could be dislodged; but, I couldn't. I bit down on the device but it didn't yield. I remember thinking at the time that that the rubber was there to protect my teeth and that the device was clearly going to stay in place, whether I liked it or not. I took in air through my mouth and it was soon very dry.