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I remember reflexively grabbing for the edge of the sink, my hand making contact enough to grip on, however then slip off its slippery surface. The next thing I keep in mind is being in unbearable pain in hospital.
Two days later on I was able to leave the hospital, albeit strolling very slowly and bunched over. I do not ever desire to throw my back out like that once again.
They provided me an examination and I was told that I would have numerous sessions with a massage therapist and then I 'd also start working with a physical therapist who would assist me through exercises to enhance my back. I was truly looking forward to it because, not just would it make my back hurt less, I 'd always wanted a professional massage and never been able to justify the expense.
I stood (sitting was still too agonizing) in the waiting room, trying not to look at the other clients. Hearing my name, I took a look around and saw a young, very fit-- very, really in shape-- man smiling at me. I smiled back, and probably blushed too. (I blush far too easily, but I can't help it; I'm constantly believing naughty thoughts.) I followed the male, who presented himself as Alexander, through to a small space. He closed the door and asked me to lie down on my tummy on the narrow, padded massage table. I did so. And blushed again.
I 'd simply presumed my massage therapist would be a female. Here I was, alone in a little space with Alexander, a really excellent looking man who probably used every lunch break to work out on the center's workout devices. I hoped his sense of odor wasn't too severe or he 'd understand that I was really, truly looking forward to this treatment session.
I tried, and incredibly I think I actually handled, to not whimper or groan during the following thirty minutes when Alexander's hands touched, massaged and kneaded my back. Alexander stated he 'd like to see me 3 times a week for the next few weeks.
After a number of weeks with Alexander's specialist hands, my back was really beginning to feel a lot better. (Even if other parts of me remained in desperate need of attention.) At the end of the 2nd week, he described that three times a week was working well for me however that his schedule was actually full the following week and he didn't have anything readily available. I tried not to look too dissatisfied at the concept of having another therapist change the terrific Alexander for a week, but then he asked if I could come in later on than typical. He said that usually the center closed at 9 pm but that he had the secrets and would be ready to remain late so that we might continue our sessions. He assured me it would just be for a week, then I 'd be able to come back at my regular afternoon time.
I was really looking forward to it because, not only would it make my back hurt less, I 'd always desired a professional massage and never been able to justify the expense.
I attempted, and exceptionally I think I really handled, to not whimper or moan 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 truly starting to feel a lot better. At the end of the 2nd week, he described that 3 times a week was working well for me but that his schedule was actually complete the following week and he didn't have anything readily available. He promised me it would only be for a week, then I 'd be able to come back at my regular afternoon time.
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