Everyone inherits genes of certain characteristics, that can be traced back several generations. This is all very good and most times I suppose it makes family members generally happy. I inherited one gene that was not in my best interest and plagued me throughout my whole life. I am not certain how far this gene goes back in our family but I think each generation has had it. It had to do with my health. It was a disgusting problem which no one wanted to talk about least- wise talk about it, and that I had it. Our doctor called it “Chronic Bowel Disorder” Now known as Crohns Disease.
I was first diagnosed with the “Problem” when I was six. That was considered a very young age for anyone to have the disease. No one could tell my parents what it was or why I had it, nor could they tell them what to do about it. Diet, exercise, lots of fiber in my meals, drink lots of water and so on. That was the best they could do at least until more research was done.
It manifested itself in a couple of ways. First I stopped growing. At ten, I was the size of an 8 year old. Secondly I was always in some kind of pain caused by acute constipation. I just couldn’t get anything moving. Nothing short of a medium sized explosion could have moved my bowels.
I started to grow a little when I was almost eleven not so as anyone would get excited about , but some. I was the normal build for a ten year old.
I had been subjected to every known humiliating and disgusting test ever devised. I had to go into the big city for those. Our doctor advised that I be made to take a spoonful of castor oil each night before bed. That was an awful experience. I could not hold any kind of medication down. I would just barf it up before it could do any good. No matter how they camouflaged the taste, up it came. Very messy and my parents were very upset with me. I felt terrible both from the problem I was creating and for making my mother do so much washing cleaning up my vomit..
Our family doctor who lived in the nearest town to our ranch, told my mother that it was all psychological and I should be made to take it and hold it down or else. (Or else?) I guess some of it stayed because after a few days I would go a little. Not near enough and my stomach hurt and I was never very hungry. How could I be with all that stuff I was carrying around in me. Okay the Doctor advised that I was to be given “SOAP STICK SUPPOSITORIES. “ Give him one every day when he first gets up. It would make me go before I left for school.
Living on a ranch I had chores to do and then I’d ride with my friends to school. I hated those soap sticks as they hurt like the dickens and only produced one or two tiny balls . The doctor seemed happy in that at least we had things moving a little but they didn’t stop my stomach aches
I had finished my chores, such as feeding the chickens, gathering the eggs, milking the cows and things like that, when I heard a buzzing sound overhead. I looked up and spotted this model airplane being flown by remote control. It was coming from the ranch next to us about a mile away. It was coming from the O’Donnel Ranch.
No one seemed to know much about them, only that the ranch was operated by the son of the O’Donnel Oil Company. Mr. O’Donnel had passed away leaving the Company and the Ranch to his son Mark. I had never met him but I heard he was very wealthy and lived by himself. We used to ride past the O’Donnel ranch on our way to school but couldn’t see anything as it was hidden way back off the road. I had seen it when riding along our south fence line. It was a huge modern ranch-style house with a small barn and a work shed. The garage was separate and had several overhead doors. I heard he had a swimming pool behind the house. We stayed away I think , because we never had any reason to go there, and he was rich and we weren’t, and besides Mr. O’Donnel was away most of the time. He had a housekeeper look after the place as he was a bachelor.
I was captivated by the sight of the small plane zooming over my head and decided I would ride my bike over closer to where the plane was landing and taking off. I wasn’t watching where I was riding and the path was quite narrow. With my head looking up into the sky I ran into the bushes and landed on my butt.
I could travel all over our valley and might never find a rose bush, but I found one and I was sitting on it. My seat was full of thorns. I was ouching and ouhing, when a young man came up and extended his hand to me helping me up.
He introduced himself as Mark O’Donnel, and I told him I was Doogie Scott. That’s the nick name for Douglas.. I told him what had happened and he laughed as he turned me around to look at my thorny rump. He told me he was a model plane builder and enthusiast, and if I wanted I could come and watch him fly the plane. We walked together through the gate separating our two properties, with Mark carrying the model and me hobbling along wheeling my bike. I was scratching at my jeans as the thorns were hurting, but I didn’t want to let him know that.
Mark did notice and advised me not to scratch as it would only make the thorns go deeper. We walked up his long driveway to the house. I was speechless. I had never seen anything so beautiful. There sure weren’t any houses like that in the Valley.
Mark decided to put the plane away and showed me the workshop where he built the them. It was the most fascinating place I ever seen and it was enough to thrill any kid my age. I just stood scratching my bum with my mouth wide open.
He suggested we go up to the house for a glass of lemonade and a cookie and he’d show me around. I wanted to see inside the house and see where the swimming pool was.
I could have caught a ton of flies the way my mouth hung open at the various sights he showed me. The place was enormous and each room was beautifully furnished.
We went down the stairs to a large games room with table tennis and pool table. Next to that was the swimming pool change room, gymnasium , showers and washrooms. In the corner of the gymnasium by the windows was a large table which Mark explained was for giving massages or adjusting sore backs. The room was loaded with all sorts of exercise equipment. He told me that was where he worked out when he was home. It was also for his guests when they came to visit.
I was still digging at my butt as I walked over to the sliding doors that lead out to the pool. There were lawn chairs umbrellas and two diving boards on the pool. It was as big as the one in town only prettier. The water was blue from the tile lining the sides. Mark seemed to be enjoying my tour as I voiced my approval with much excitement over the various sights.
We went back into the gym and Mark told me to take my pants off he was going to remove the thorns from my jeans. I was surprised at the order and I guess I showed it in my eyes. He told me that it was easier to get the little barbs out of both my pants and underwear this way. I had to agree with his logic. I couldn’t see any big deal in doing that.
In no time He had all the spikes pulled out of my pants but I knew there were still some sticking into me .
Mark explained that he used to be a Doctor of Naturopathy, and he would look at my bum if I liked, and pull out the remaining barbs. I told him I thought I would be just fine not wanting to proceed any further, but then thought about riding my bike home. I nodded my okay and he motioned me over to the massage table. He lifted me up and laid me face down on the table throwing a huge towel over me. I nearly died but terribly excited when he reached under the towel and pulled my shorts off. He pulled a few thorns from them as well. He rolled the towel back exposing my bare butt and with a pair of tweezers, started to pull the thorns out. I counted up to ten of them. My heart was pounding like a trip-hammer as I lay there a little embarrassed laying like that, but Mark talked to me and explained what he was doing, as he pulled barbs and dobbed peroxide on my wounds.
He explained the reason he had left his practice out East as a doctor was because his father had passed away and there was no one to run the Company or look after the ranch, so he quit his practice he had started down east.
The way he was treating me was very professional, and I felt he knew what he was doing. My butt was feeling better and if I hadn’t a stomach ache, I’d have felt great and been real happy. My heart was still pounding but I was feeling more at ease as I lay naked under the towel.
Mark was very kind , and suggested we take a swim in the pool. He didn’t have to invited me twice. I nodded my head enthusiastically. He smiled and opened a cupboard which was like a kitchen unit, by the table and pulled out several pairs of swimming shorts. After sorting through the suits, he gave me a pair. They fit and I slipped my shirt off and headed for the pool. I could sit down now. No more pain from the thorns. This was neat and I ran out into the pool area and onto the diving board. Mark clapped his hands in approval as I made my first dive of what was to be an almost everyday occurrence.
We swam for about twenty minutes, and finally Mark said he had a meeting in the city to go to and that we would have to continue our swim some other time.
Some other time turned out to be almost every other day throughout the entire Summer and all day Saturdays. Mark and I were becoming good friends and what with swimming, working out in the gym and building remote models, I felt I was in heaven, if only I felt better.
School was out for the Summer and I would have spent all my time at Mark’s if I didn’t have chores to do. Mark was around more than usual, and so I got to do lots of things. My younger brother Bobby, who was the same size as me, was invited to swim as well. Was he ever thrilled with that.
One day Mark took me to the garage and showed me two brand new four wheeler Suzuki Quad Racers. I was dumbfounded, which wasn’t unusual for me. I was given instructions and a helmet and off we went. We had miles of trails to ride on as well as the lease lands beside our place.
One of the problems being small, and why I was sort of a loner, was kids my age didn’t want to associate with me because I was so small. I was two grades ahead for my age, but two years behind in my growth. Not a good combination at all. That was very bad. Bobby had lot’s of friends his own age to play with and would often invite me along. I found them too boring and very juvenile.
One day when I was really feeling ill Mark asked me I was feeling alright. I guess I looked terrible. I told him I was fine just my usual belly ache. I decided I knew Mark well enough that I could tell him of my problem and of the soap sticks. He shook his head sympathetically and told me soap sticks were not good for me. I agreed with him and told him there was no other way. The doctor had said I was to get the sticks.
It was a little embarrassing talking about my potty problems but Mark made me feel comfortable. We talked about my problem for some time, when he asked me if he could examine me. As he was a doctor and had seen my bare butt before, I told him to go ahead. I would do anything if he could cure me.
I showered and Mark gave me a huge bath towel to wrap around me. He picked me up and sat me on the table. He asked me to lay on my back first as he pulled the towel open. His fingers moved all around my stomach pressing here and there. Sometimes I would groan as he touched a tender spot. He made me roll over on my stomach and began feeling up and down my spine and my neck. Sometimes he’d twist me a bit then poke hard , telling me I was out of adjustment and that wasn’t too good . He massaged my back and it sure felt nice.
He told me he was sure he could remove my pain if I wanted him to. I didn’t know how he was going to do that, but I agreed asking him if he thought he really could and if it would hurt. He said I would enjoy it and it would take away my stomach ache. I wondered about that because I had had my ache ever since I was six and I was eleven now. He asked if I thought my folks would be upset, and I assured him that if I was made better, they would be as happy as I would be. I wondered why he thought they would be upset
I watched as Mark busied himself in the corner cabinets. There were some hoses and bottles and other things. As I lay watching him I began to worry and wondered what he was going to do. Somehow I got the feeling that that rubber tubing was going to go someplace I might not like.
He laid a towel under me and told me to lay over on my left side and pull my right knee up to my chest. I still wasn’t quite sure what Mark was going to do and now laying like that, I was unable to watch anymore. My heart was beating so fast I could hardly breath and I was just about to change my mind when I felt Mark pulling the towel off my bum and pulling my bum cheeks apart. Then I felt his lubricated finger over my hole pushing in a bit. This didn’t upset me as I had had that happen often enough with the soap sticks. Then came the rubber hose. I hardly felt it as it slid into my bum. I was starting to get excited now and getting an erection. I didn’t want him to see that. It didn’t hurt like the soap sticks in fact it felt nice. Mark comforted me by patting my hip and asking me how I was doing. Then I felt warm fluids flowing into me. I didn’t know it then but I was getting my first enema, the first of probably thousands.
Mark massaged my stomach and already I could tell the pain was decreasing, yet I was slowly filling up with fluid. He asked me if I was okay to which I assured him I was feeling a little full but otherwise okay. Mark asked me if I thought I could hold a little more. It would be better the more I took. I was really being brave, and I liked the feeling.
Mark finally pulled the tube out and set me down on the floor. I knew he saw my boner as he wrapped the towel around me. Ran to the washroom leaving the towel on the floor. For the first time that I can remember I had a good poo. It seemed like my whole guts were falling out and with them my pain. Mark checked me several times to make sure I was alright. I asked Mark why my own doctor had not suggested the enemas, and he said there was a problem with Medical doctors using old home style proven remedies.
When I had finished I walked back to the table where Mark was busying himself with the equipment. I guess he noticed the look of gratitude in my eyes as I came over to him and put my arms around him. He knew that I was pain free. No stomach ache at all. I was feeling the best I had ever felt. He hauled me onto the table again and I got another one only this time it was cooler liquid. I was prepared this time as I knew what was coming and I almost took the whole can. Mark was sure surprised, telling me I was completely cleaned out.
I dressed and Mark invited me to the kitchen for some refreshments. We talked about all kinds of things, and I told him how grateful I was for his being so good and kind to me. Mark said that I would have to have the enemas at least once a week and more often if we had the time. He told me I would get better eventually but might always have to have the enemas.
He was right.