The sixties wasn't a good year for children in my school; polio was around and we were all banned from the swimming pool and cinema's, in fact all public places.
I didn't know anyone who caught polio it but I did manage to contract Hepatitis through drinking river water, I had the acute version as opposed to the chronic one. I lost a stone in a week and turned yellow which is quite interesting when your twelve. They sent for the doctor and when he arrived he was an elderly severe looking German with wire-framed glasses: not the most reassuring site in the world when you've spent the last term doing a project on Joseph Mengele (angel of death).
I'd led a sheltered life up until this point, and so far was unaware of the existence of suppositories. The news came as quite a shock when the doctor explained in his broken English what had to be done; when my custard coloured eyes glazed over in disbelief, he mimed it with his fingers. When I saw what can only be described as cruise missiles I recoiled at the thought of inserting them into my bottom, after all, if my parents had wanted me to have foreign objects pushed up my rectum, they would have sent me to public school.
Finally when the message got through I was doing OK and then someone pointed out that I should removed them from the tinfoil, after that things were much easier. I can only conclude that the experience gave me a life long fear of Doctors, especially German ones.
I didn't know anyone who caught polio it but I did manage to contract Hepatitis through drinking river water, I had the acute version as opposed to the chronic one. I lost a stone in a week and turned yellow which is quite interesting when your twelve. They sent for the doctor and when he arrived he was an elderly severe looking German with wire-framed glasses: not the most reassuring site in the world when you've spent the last term doing a project on Joseph Mengele (angel of death).
I'd led a sheltered life up until this point, and so far was unaware of the existence of suppositories. The news came as quite a shock when the doctor explained in his broken English what had to be done; when my custard coloured eyes glazed over in disbelief, he mimed it with his fingers. When I saw what can only be described as cruise missiles I recoiled at the thought of inserting them into my bottom, after all, if my parents had wanted me to have foreign objects pushed up my rectum, they would have sent me to public school.
Finally when the message got through I was doing OK and then someone pointed out that I should removed them from the tinfoil, after that things were much easier. I can only conclude that the experience gave me a life long fear of Doctors, especially German ones.
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