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I remember reflexively getting 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 being in agonizing pain in hospital.
Great deals of drugs and a couple of hours later I was a lot more comfortable. 2 days later I was able to leave the hospital, albeit walking extremely gradually and bunched over. A check out to a neurologist confirmed that I had a herniated disk and would need physical therapy which I was very delighted to do. I do never desire to throw my back out like that once again.
They provided me an evaluation and I was told that I would have a number of sessions with a massage therapist and then I 'd also start working with a physical therapist who would direct me through workouts to reinforce my back. 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 validate the expense.
I stood (sitting was still too painful) in the waiting space, trying not to look at the other clients. Hearing my name, I browsed and saw a young, really fit-- extremely, really healthy-- male smiling at me. I smiled back, and most likely blushed too. (I blush far too easily, but I can't help it; I'm always believing naughty ideas.) I followed the man, who presented himself as Alexander, through to a little room. He closed the door and asked me to rest on my belly on the narrow, cushioned massage table. I did so. And blushed again.
I 'd just presumed my massage therapist would be a female. Here I was, alone in a little space with Alexander, an extremely excellent looking guy who most likely used every lunch break to work out on the center's workout equipment. I hoped his sense of odor wasn't too intense or he 'd know that I was actually, truly looking forward to this treatment session.
I attempted, and incredibly I believe I really managed, to not whimper or moan during the following half an hour when Alexander's hands touched, rubbed and kneaded my back. And even relatively low down on my butt. I was very pleased with myself and I even handled to act relatively usually once the session was over. 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 specialist hands, my back was really starting to feel a lot better. At the end of the second week, he described that three times a week was working well for me but that his schedule was really full the following week and he didn't have anything offered. He guaranteed 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 constantly wanted an expert massage and never been able to justify the expense.
I tried, and extremely I believe I really managed, to not whimper or moan during the following thirty minutes when Alexander's hands touched, massaged and kneaded my back. After a couple of weeks with Alexander's professional 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 full 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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