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They say most accidents that happen at house take place in the bathroom and I have no reason to doubt that. About a month ago I was stepping out of the bath tub when I lost my balance and began to fall. I remember reflexively grabbing for the edge of the sink, my hand making contact enough to grip on, but then slip off its slippery surface. The next thing I remember is remaining in excruciating pain in medical facility.
2 days later I was able to leave the medical facility, albeit walking very gradually and bunched over. I do not ever want to throw my back out like that again.
They offered me an assessment and I was informed that I would have numerous sessions with a massage therapist and then I 'd also start working with a physical therapist who would direct me through exercises to strengthen my back. I was truly looking forward to it because, not only would it make my back hurt less, I 'd constantly desired an expert massage and never ever been able to justify the expense.
I stood (sitting was still too agonizing) in the waiting space, attempting not to stare at the other patients. Hearing my name, I browsed and saw a young, really fit-- very, really healthy-- guy smiling at me. I smiled back, and probably blushed too. (I blush far too easily, however I can't assist it; I'm constantly thinking naughty thoughts.) I followed the guy, who presented himself as Alexander, through to a small room. He closed the door and asked me to rest on my tummy on the narrow, padded massage table. I did so. And blushed again.
I 'd just presumed my massage therapist would be a woman. Here I was, alone in a small room with Alexander, an extremely good looking man who probably used every lunch break to work out on the center's exercise equipment. I hoped his sense of smell wasn't too acute or he 'd know that I was really, truly looking forward to this therapy session.
I tried, and incredibly I believe I actually handled, to not whimper or groan during the following half an hour when Alexander's hands touched, massaged and kneaded my back. And even relatively low down on my butt. Once the session was over, I was really happy of myself and I even managed to act fairly typically. Alexander said he 'd like to see me 3 times a week for the next couple of weeks. I 'd have returned every day.
After a couple of weeks with Alexander's expert hands, my back was truly starting to feel a lot much better. At the end of the 2nd week, he discussed that three times a week was working well for me but that his schedule was really complete the following week and he didn't have anything readily available. He assured me it would only be for a week, then I 'd be able to come back at my regular afternoon time.
I was actually looking forward to it because, not only would it make my back hurt less, I 'd always wanted an expert massage and never ever been able to justify the cost.
I tried, and exceptionally I think I actually handled, to not whimper or groan throughout the following thirty minutes when Alexander's hands touched, rubbed and kneaded my back. After a couple of weeks with Alexander's specialist hands, my back was actually starting to feel a lot much better. At the end of the second week, he explained that three times a week was working well for me but that his schedule was truly complete the following week and he didn't have anything offered. He promised me it would just be for a week, then I 'd be able to come back at my regular afternoon time.
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