Tom's Green's School Days

	It was such a typical English private boarding school of the 
fifties. It was in an old country house which had been used as an Army 
hospital during the war. The owner had bought the house complete with 
the beds, green army lockers and the metal 'wardrobes' for hanging 
clothes in the upstairs rooms. The addition of desks in the lounges 
downstairs and blackboards had completed the conversion to a boarding 
school. The school took pupils from the age of five to thirteen when 
they would transfer to one of the lesser public schools. Many of the 
boys' parents were in the forces or the diplomatic corps where they 
were out of the country for months at a time and it was convenient to 
place their sons in a private school where they would be looked after, 
even during school holidays.
	Tom's father was in the diplomatic corps and had been posted 
abroad. His mother had gone with him, but they had taken advice about 
Tom. The government's advice was that he would be better off remaining 
in Britain and that the government would meet the cost of his private 
education, board and lodgings on behalf of his parents.
	Tom was twelve and the oldest in his dormitory where the children 
were aged from five up to thirteen, or, in Tom's case, twelve. He was 
expected to be in charge of 'his' dormitory by maintaining discipline 
and good order. Among Tom's duties were to see that each boy kept 
himself clean, changed his clothes regularly and that his bed was made 
with the clean sheets provided each week. The school had a matron, a 
young nurse who had trained during the war but who was now surplus to 
requirements now that the war was over. She had been emergency trained 
to care for wounded servicemen at the house where she now worked, but 
was not considered suitable, without further training, for the new 
National Health Service which had been set up in 1948. When the owner 
of the school negotiated to buy the house and grounds from the Army, he 
had offered her the job of school matron which she accepted. Her 
husband to be had been an RAF pilot and had been killed in action in 
the last week of the war. She was an only child and her parents had 
been killed in 1944 in a bombing raid, so she was basically alone in 
the world and gratefully accepted the offer of the job with its live in 
accommodation. Matron had a young girl from the village who helped with 
the cleaning and laundry and there was an elderly woman who did the 
cooking. Apart from the headmaster, matron was the only member of staff 
on duty at night. There were sixty boys in twelve bedrooms cum 
dormitories. Fortunately the house did have large bedrooms and each 
would take five Army beds, lockers, wardrobes and desks for the boys to 
do their homework.
	The school was in Norfolk, with a small village close by where 
the teachers had homes with their own families, but was some distance 
from the nearest town and railway station. At the start of each school 
term, those who had gone home for the school holidays would be 
collected from the station by a local coach firm and driven the ten 
miles to the school. The nearest hospital was twenty miles away, so 
matron considered it part of her job to look after the boys' 'inner 
cleanliness' to hopefully avoid problems such as appendicitis which, in 
those days, was considered to be caused by constipation.
	Between each of the bedrooms in the house was a bathroom shared 
by ten boys, so the eldest boys in each room had to ensure that the 
younger boys were herded in and out quickly and efficiently. In each 
bathroom was a bath behind a screen with a shower over the bath, three 
wash-hand basins and two toilet cubicles. The plumbing had been 
somewhat upgraded by the Army when the house had been requisitioned as 
a convalescent hospital in the war.
	Tom hated Monday nights as that was 'his' room's night for 
'treatment'. Each bed had a horse hair mattress covered with a rubber 
sheet, then a linen sheet, again all purchased as part of the 'package 
deal' when the owner purchased the house. A rubber drawsheet was pulled 
across the bottom sheet and covered with a double thickness linen 
drawsheet, top sheet and two woolen Army blankets. Some of the younger 
boys wet the bed at night and these boys would be put in nappies and 
rubber pants before bed to keep the laundry down to reasonable levels. 
Matron would come round before 'lights out' to put these 'wetters' into 
their nappies and rubbers for the night. There was a bin in each 
bathroom for the nappies to be placed in the morning beside a smaller 
one for the rubber pants which were supposed to be rinsed out before 
being put into the bin. That was Tom's job as senior in the dormitory 
to ensure that his 'wetter' washed himself properly the next morning 
and disposed of his nappies and rubbers in the appropriate bins.
	As it was Monday night, each boy had an appropriately sized pair 
of amber coloured transparent natural rubber pants and nappies on the 
end of his bed, ready for the 'treatment, along with a jug of water and 
a glass on top of the locker. Matron came into the room with her 
trolley ready prepared. She started, as always, with the oldest in each 
room, Tom, who would then be expected to help her with the other boys. 
As it was Monday, each boy was lying in bed completely naked. Matron 
went over to Tom's bed and pulled back the top sheet. Tom rolled over 
onto his front and lifted himself off the bed on his arms and knees. 
Matron placed a thick pile of folded nappies under him and Tom lowered 
himself down. The boys on their 'treatment' night, had their nappies 
fastened behind them with the intention that they wouldn't try to take 
them off at night. Before pulling the nappies over Tom's bare bottom, 
she reached onto her trolley to take a glycerine suppository and dipped 
it into the pot of water on the trolley. With her rubber gloved finger, 
she inserted the suppository into Tom's rectum, violating his privacy 
and dignity in Tom's opinion, by doing this in plain view of the other 
boys. Age should have had its compensations, but they were all treated 
the same on Monday nights. Or rather, not quite the same, because Tom's 
first glycerine suppository was quickly followed by a second inserted 
as far as matron's probing finger could push it. His nappies were 
expertly pulled up around his bare bottom and fastened with pins. Tom 
then stood up and pulled his rubbers over his legs and nappies whilst 
matron made sure that all of the terry toweling was tucked inside the 
rubber pants to prevent leaks.
	This was repeated at each of the other four beds with Tom helping 
matron to put the rubbers on each boy. As they were younger than Tom, 
the other boys had only one suppository each. They were to hold that, 
on pain of more vigorous treatment, until at least matron had left the 
room. When all of the boys were in their nappies and rubber pants, each 
boy stood beside his bed, covered with goose flesh as it wasn't exactly 
the warmest of autumn nights. On the top of matron's wheeled trolley 
was a large syringe with a metal nozzle, a container and small glasses 
of orange juice. Starting this time with the youngest, matron drew up 
an appropriate amount of castor oil into the syringe. The boy 
obediently, well used to this by now, bent his head back and opened his 
mouth. Tom stood behind him and pinched his nose for him whilst matron 
squirted the castor oil to the back of the boy's throat. Once this had 
been swallowed, the boy was given his glass of orange juice to try, 
unsuccessfully, to take away the foul oily taste. What was worst was 
all the boys knew that they would be spending a rather sleepless and 
uncomfortable night. This was done to each boy with increasing amounts 
of castor oil according to age with Tom getting a full four fluid 
ounces to swallow which was a good overdose of the powerful purgative. 
Matron, however, was determined to get what she called a 'good result' 
from each boy by the next morning. Once they'd all been dosed, they 
boys were allowed to get into bed. Matron wished them all a 'good 
night', not that they would have that with the suppositories and castor 
oil inside them and turned out the light as she wheeled her trolley out 
of their dormitory and to the second one for that night.
	Once the lights were out, each boy grabbed the glass of water 
beside their beds and downed it quickly to try to wash the foul tastes 
from their mouths. This was a regular part of the Monday night routine 
even though they knew from previous experience that the water wouldn't 
remove the taste of the castor oil. By now the younger boys were 
squirming in their beds. They all had conflicting desires. On the one 
hand they wanted to expel the suppository, or two in Tom's case, which 
were making them so uncomfortable. On the other hand, they knew that 
they would be passing stool into their nappies and would be lying in it 
all night. Grunts and sounds of movement indicated that the boys were 
giving in to the irritant suppository and filling their nappies. Tom, 
as a matter of pride as the eldest, struggled against the twin power of 
his pair of suppositories until the last of the younger boys had dumped 
the load into his nappy. Tom laid on his back and brought his knees up 
and strained to push the mess into his nappies. As the oldest, he had 
the thickest layer of nappies as they would all be passing both urine 
and stool during the course of the night. Despite having used the 
toilet before matron's ministrations, Tom's efforts to expel the 
suppositories and the resulting stool also caused him to wet his nappy 
as well. He turned onto his side, well aware of the stool which had 
been forced from him and squashed against the terry toweling which 
matron had pulled up so tightly between his legs. Her tight diapering 
meant that each boy had to struggle to push the stool out past the 
folds of terry toweling which encased their bottoms and causing it to 
spread out as it did so.
	Each boy struggles to relax and to go to sleep before the 'wake 
up call' from the castor oil disturbed their sleep again. Because Tom 
had received such a large dose, he was the first, as far as he knew, to 
wake with the violent cramps caused by the powerful purgative at work 
inside him. He drew his knees up and left the slimy mess out into his 
nappy. He involuntarily passed urine as well. Once he'd managed to 
expel that load, he poured himself a glass of water, drank it and 
settled down to try to sleep again. Three more times during the night, 
he was woken by the violent cramping and the need to void yet more 
stool. Matron certainly knew how much to give as, by the end of the 
night, Tom felt well and truly emptied.
	At seven o'clock the next morning, Matron came into the dormitory 
wearing her ankle length rubber apron. Each boy got out of bed, picked 
up his towel and clean underwear and followed matron to the shower 
room. There were five shower heads along a tiled wall with a grating in 
the tiled floor to let the water run away and each boy took his place. 
There, each boy removed his rubbers and matron went round unpinning the 
nappies and placing them in a bucket which she carried round from boy 
to boy. She checked each nappy to ensure that the 'results' had been 
'satisfactory' � in other words, that each nappy had been well filled 
that night. Woe betide nay boy whose nappy was not sufficiently messy 
to satisfy matron. Each boy let out an involuntary sigh as the messy 
and soaking wet nappies were removed. The showers were turned on and 
matron stood watching to ensure that each boy had thoroughly cleaned 
himself. Once she was satisfied, she turned the showers off and allowed 
the boys to dry themselves and change into their underwear by 
themselves.
	Not every Monday night was the same. Matron didn't believe in 
using the same laxatives every time. The following Monday, she repeated 
the insertion of the suppositories, but gave each boy glass 'baby 
bottle' with rubber teat to drink from from on her trolley. Each boy 
grimaced as he drank down the very salty Epsom salts which the bottle 
contained. As usual, Tom had by far and away the largest amount to 
drink. In the middle of the night, he awoke to a gurgling inside him as 
the Epsom salts did their work. He laid there whilst the gurgling 
continued and he suddenly felt the need to empty himself. With a flood 
into his nappies, the osmotic laxative filled his nappies with wet 
stool. During the night, he drank the water provided at the side of his 
bed and the laxatives continued their work until, by morning, his 
nappies were a brown soggy mess. The following Monday, each boy had a 
baby bottle full of senna to drink. Matron brewed her own from senna 
pods and made sure that it was strong to be effective. The three 
laxatives were rotated � week one was castor oil, week two was Epsom 
salts and week three was the senna. Tom didn't mind wearing and using 
the nappies and rubber pants, but he hated having to suck at the bay 
bottle which made him feel really childish.
	One Saturday in November that year, Tom woke feeling 'out of 
sorts' and feverish. He'd been a little constipated since the Monday 
clear-out and thought that he'd better report to matron before 
breakfast. Quietly he got up and made his way to sick bay, knocking at 
the door. Matron opened the door to him and asked what was the matter, 
although a look at Tom's flushed face showed her that this was not a 
well boy. She ushered him into the sick bay and put him to bed. A short 
while later, she returned with a tray holding a pot of Vaseline, a wipe 
and a rectal thermometer. Tom had been there before, so, on seeing the 
contents of matron's tray which she had put down on the bed beside him, 
he rolled onto his left side and pulled down his pyjama trousers. 
Matron inserted the bulb of the thermometer into the Vaseline and then 
into Tom's rectum. He laid there whilst the thermometer registered his 
body temperature. Matron removed the thermometer, wiped it clean and 
looked at it. "You're running a temperature, Tom, so I'll be looking 
after you here for a while." Matron was a very attractive young woman 
and Tom was getting to an age when he noticed such things. Despite the 
sure knowledge of what would be happening to him, he rather looked 
forward to matron's ministrations.
	Tom guessed, correctly, what matron's next actions would be: he 
would get at least one enema. That seemed to be matron's main line of 
therapy for whatever seemed to ail the boys and, to be fair, did seem 
to provide the solution to virtually every illness which the boys 
suffered, apart from broken bones. Matron disappeared into her sluice 
room and Tom heard the sound of running water. A few minutes later, 
matron emerged wearing her ankle length green rubber apron, pushing a 
drip stand and also pushing a trolley loaded with equipment. She pulled 
the covers off Tom and gently removed his pyjamas, helping him instead 
into a short gown which reached to his hips. "You should be more 
comfortable in that and it won't get in the way," matron said to him. 
There was already a rubber mattress cover under the bottom sheet as 
well as a rubber draw sheet and linen one. She gently raised Tom's hips 
and slid a pad made from a large folded towel under him. Tom was asked 
to roll onto his left side and to draw his knees up to his chest, with 
his bottom near the edge of the bed, exposing his bottom to the nurse. 
She hung the enema can from the drip stand, having already purged the 
tubing of air. She greased the black rubber nozzle with Vaseline and 
gently inserted it into Tom's waiting anus. Matron opened the tap just 
by the nozzle and, as she'd only hung the enema can a little higher 
than Tom, the hot soapy water flowed slowly into him without causing 
cramping. She could see Tom's abdomen distending from the soapy enema 
solution but she realised that he must be feeling poorly as he wasn't 
complaining at all about feeling full � he was just lying there and 
taking it all. A gurgle from the can showed that it was time to turn 
off the tap as he'd had the full amount of the soapy solution.
	Matron gently removed the nozzle and replaced it with a large 
butt plug which she'd lubricated before, ready for its swift insertion. 
Tom grunted a little from the discomfort as the large shaped plug 
stretched his anal sphincter as it was pushed into him. Matron sat 
beside Tom holding the plug in place whilst the soap did its task of 
softening the stool and irritating the mucosal lining which would cause 
the violent contractions to expel the enema and bowel contents. After 
five minutes, she picked up the white enameled steel bedpan with the 
blue rolled rim and placed it beside Tom's buttocks. "I'm going to pull 
the plug out now, Tom, then I'll help you sit on the bedpan and you can 
get rid of the enema for me." The plug was removed and she sat Tom up 
on the bedpan. She realised that she had a very poorly young man as he 
was quite floppy and she needed to sit behind him to support him. Tom 
shuddered slightly as her cold rubber apron can in contact with Tom's 
back. He became weaker as the effort of passing all the soapy enema 
took a great deal of effort. When matron felt that he'd finished, she 
lifted him off the bedpan and laid him back on the bed. She took the 
bedpan away to empty it and was concerned that Tom's stools were very 
pale � almost cream in colour. She guessed then what was wrong with Tom 
and decided that she'd better call the doctor to him.
	When she returned to the bed, Tom was still lying where she'd 
laid him. "I'm going to put a colon tube into your bottom now, Tom, to 
wash out the soap for you so that it won't irritate you." She'd already 
lubricated the colon tube which was connected to another enema can full 
with just warm water. This she hung up on the drip stand and placed the 
enamel bucket at the side of Tom's bed. She released the clamp and made 
sure that the tubing was filled with water before inserting the rounded 
end, with the catheter eyes, into Tom's waiting anus. She released the 
clamp so that water started to flow into Tom's colon to dilate it as 
she gently, but skillfully inserted the colon tube into the poor boy. 
Once she was satisfied, she shut off the clamp and asked Tom to clench 
his buttocks tight to hold the tube there. She got some waterproof tape 
from her trolley and taped the colon tube securely in place up Tom's 
anal cleft. She guessed that, if her diagnosis was right, Tom would be 
needing that tube in place for some time. "OK, you can relax now, Tom. 
I've taped the tube in place so it won't come out." With that, matron 
disconnected the enema can and placed the tubing over the bucket, 
having pinched it first to stop the fluid escaping. When she released 
the tubing, the fluid started to wash back from Tom. When the flow 
stopped, she connected a large metal funnel to the tubing and, holding 
it above Tom, poured warm water into the funnel from a jug. When she 
thought she'd added enough, she inverted the funnel over the bucket to 
let it all flow out. This was repeated several times until the water 
was washing out clear with no trace of soap in it. As she tidied up her 
equipment, she realised that Tom had fallen into the deep sleep of 
exhaustion. She carefully rolled Tom over without waking him and 
applied a thick layer of zinc and castor oil cream over the area to be 
covered by his nappies. She hoped that the feel of the nappies against 
his skin would encourage him to use them as he, and the other boys did, 
every 'purging night'. He really didn't need the worry about emptying 
his bladder with him being so poorly. Turning him onto his back again, 
she removed the towel from under him and replaced it with a thick layer 
of nappies which she pinned expertly in place. She then gently worked a 
pair of the rubber pants up his legs and over the nappies. The clamped 
off end of the colon tube stuck out of the top of the nappies at the 
back where it was taped in place. During this Tom didn't stir at all.
	Matron took her equipment back to the sluice room washed it all 
and hung it up to dry. She then went into her office and phoned the 
doctor. She explained her concerns and the doctor said that he'd come 
immediately. A short while later, the doctor came and looked at Tom. He 
gently palpitated his abdomen and felt the swollen, enlarged liver. 
"You're right, matron. It's hepatitis. I think that the hospital would 
prefer you to nurse Tom here unless he gets much worse. The local 
cottage hospital really doesn't want an infectious patient if you can 
look after him just as well here. You need to get him to drink plenty 
but, if he vomits, I see you've got a colon tube in place already, so 
give him a slow enema of salt and sugar solution continuously if he 
starts being sick." The doctor left matron instructions as to flow 
rates and concentration of electrolytes to make up the enema solution. 
Hepatitis was a disease which gave the patient two choices: they got 
better because their own body had fought off the infection, or they 
died. Matron very sincerely hoped that the former would be true. She 
reported to the headmaster as she was required to do and returned to 
care for poor Tom. When she got back to the sickbay, Tom woke as she 
came in. Matron went to put on her rubber apron and fetched a chamber 
pot and several other items which she placed on her trolley which she 
placed beside Tom's bed. She washed her hands, poured a drink of water 
and then sat Tom up, leaning back against her. She put the glass of 
water in Tom's hand and supported it with her own. She encouraged Tom 
to drink the water, but wasn't surprised when he started to retch. She 
quickly brought out the chamber pot and held it up under his mouth 
whilst Tom was violently and thoroughly sick. When he'd finished, she 
placed the pot on the floor and lowered Tom back onto the bed. She 
washed his mouth for him, cleaning away the splashes of sick. She 
encouraged him to rinse his mouth out into a kidney dish she'd also 
brought. When she'd done this, she laid the exhausted Tom back onto his 
bed.
	Matron went into the sluice room to prepare the sugar and saline 
enema for Tom. Back in the sickbay, she hung the can from the drip 
stand and connected the tubing to Tom's colon tube. She had put a glass 
drip into the tubing and adjusted it so that the fluid ran slowly high 
up inside Tom's colon where it would be absorbed. Had Tom been in 
hospital, i.v. was an alternative means of administering food and 
hydration to Tom, but many hospitals still used the colon tube method 
as there was a reduced risk of infection and vein damage compared with 
the rigid metal i.v. Needle. The fluids were running nicely into Tom's 
colon, so she went to get a wash cloth and towel to wash and dry his 
face for him.
	Later that day while she was checking up on him yet again, she 
put her hand between his legs and the feel of the terry toweling 
through the rubber pants showed that Tom was due a nappy change. This 
she did, again without waking him. He looked a little dehydrated as his 
skin had lost its normal smoothness and had become crinkly. She 
increased the rate of administration of the colon feeding a little and, 
over the next few hours as Tom's skin returned to normal, had her 
decision confirmed.
	Over the next few days, she changed Tom whenever he needed it, 
checked his temperature rectally every nappy change and charted it for 
the doctor. She gave him a daily bed bath as well as applying a thick 
layer of zinc and castor oil cream during every bed bath to prevent 
nappy rash. Sometimes Tom was able to co-operate and mumble to her, 
other times he was sleeping the whole way through. Gradually, to her 
delight, her patient showed signs of improvement and would spend 
periods of hours at a time now awake. She would read to him and fuss 
over him.. She's explained several times to Tom what had happened to 
him and how he was being nursed so that he would understand what had 
been happening. Virtually from the start because of his weakened state, 
Tom was wetting his nappy without conscious thought. As he got better, 
the doctor said that he could start with sips of water and build up 
gradually to free fluids. She used a baby bottle with teat o encourage 
Tom to drink. He needed support to raise his head at first but 
gradually began to be able to raise his head for himself. Matron put a 
rubber apron around Tom's neck when she gave him his bottle to drink 
from. Tom decided that he'd got used to being babied and liked the 
smell of the rubber around his neck.
	He was as weak as a new-born kitten but was thrilled when the 
doctor said to matron that she could try him on some jelly. Slowly, he 
began to build up his eating until the colon tube could be removed as 
he was getting enough sustenance by normal means. Matron still tended 
to try to feed Tom. She was the maternal type and would have been 
happiest married with babies of her own to care for. The loss of her 
fianc� during the war had put an end to those dreams, but Tom, little 
did she realise it, had provided her with an acceptable substitute.
	The doctor was very concerned that Tom was so weak that he would 
need a long convalescence. Part of this would be that his lack of 
activity could cause constipation so he authorised matron to administer 
laxatives and purgatives, as well as enemas as she felt Tom required. 
He'd also praised her for her care in the long task of nursing Tom back 
to health.
	As Tom got better, he continued to wear the nappies and rubber 
pants. He got used to a regime of laxatives every fourth night and an 
enema two days later. He began to love those enemas where nurse would 
strip off the sheets, leaving Tom just lying on the rubber sheet over 
the mattress. Sometimes she would sit on the mattress with her long 
green rubber apron on and Tom lying across her lap. She would hold the 
nozzle in place, but using a larger nozzle and would pull it partly out 
and push it back again, rubbing on Tom's prostate and thrilling him 
with the sensation. She would often put him back in nappies and rubber 
pants when he was still full with the enema. She would sit him on her 
lap with a baby bottle to suck on in his mouth and then rock him gently 
until he released the enema into his nappies when she would, after a 
while change him again.
	All too soon, Tom was well enough to resume his schooling, but 
he'd not regained bowel or bladder control, so had to go back to matron 
to be changed between lessons. One day shortly after returning to his 
lessons, the head teacher called him into his office. Tom wandered what 
he'd done wrong and couldn't think of anything. To his surprise, the 
head teacher seemed uncomfortable. He looked away and then back at Tom. 
"Ive got some bad news for you which I didn't want to give you while 
you were so ill. You nearly died, you know." Tom didn't know that and 
was surprised to hear it. He'd wondered why his parents hadn't come 
home to see him if he'd been so ill. The head teacher continued, "A 
couple of days after you became ill, I learned that your parents had 
been killed in a car accident in the country where your father was 
serving. It was felt that you shouldn't be told until you'd recovered, 
especially as the shock might have meant that you wouldn't recover. 
There have been discussions about your future and, as you haven't got 
any close living relatives, matron has offered, if you're willing, to 
adopt you and care for you." Tom was no too distressed by the news 
about his parents as he hardly ever saw them. His heart leapt at the 
news that matron would adopt him. He blurted out his acceptance and the 
head teacher said that matters would be put in hand to formalise the 
arrangement.
	Tom went back to matron who hugged and kissed him when he said 
that he'd accepted her offer. Tom's future was to continue very much 
like his present with his new mother still changing his nappies, giving 
him a bottle to drink from, and giving him enemas. The one change was 
that she moved into a cottage in the grounds of the school with Tom 
moved in with her. She bought him some rubber pyjamas to wear in bed 
over his nappies and rubber pants. Tom loved it! Hardly a surprise, is 
it?