[delt]

I had some serious need of physical therapy on my legs after a bad truck accident. They were both broken and one mangled severely. I am fortunate that they could get me back to walking. I am pinned together.

Each leg had different needs, and not just the usual massage. There was stretching the legs, stretching some of the incisions to keep them from pulling, and one wound was on the inside of my left thigh, and ran just under my balls. The feet needed some help too, as did one wound on my butt. I was a mess.

When the doctors mentioned physical therapy I imagined someone just rubbing my legs like a massage parlor or working out on some machine. I was wrong. The doctors said that I needed very experienced help, and recommended a lady in private practice in a small office building not far away. Doing some homework beforehand, I learned she did not take on new patients, but would in special difficult occasions. I learned she was married to a respected attorney and had been on the state licensing board for physical therapists. She knew her stuff.

Her office was very professional, with lots of equipment and a full-time receptionist/ bookkeeper and a part-time assistant. One thing I learned when I had this accident is that some medical facilities are very strict on keeping your modesty and others are not concerned at all and leave curtains open, doors open and others can see inside, etc.

When I first met the therapist, she was maybe 20 years older than me and in really good shape, as were both her helpers who more my age. She and I spoke for a half hour and then she told her assistant to take me to one of three examination rooms. The assistant told me to get undressed and I asked how far. She said take off everything if you can, we need to see how you walk and carry yourself. There is no one else here except for we three ladies and we have seen it all. If you want to keep your underpants on, that is fine, but we cannot have you wear a gown.

After I undressed, I grabbed a towel and held it over my naked front. When I saw the therapist, I asked if she was comfortable with full nudity and she said yes, we prefer it. I laid the towel on a chair nearby and stood at one end of a wide hall naked. She asked if I would mind if she had her associates see my gait. I asked, again, should I cover up and she said it was not necessary. Within a few minutes, I was standing naked in front of the two associates and I had both my hands covering my sex, worried that I might get an erection.

The therapist had me walk the length of the hall and back several times and I got comfortable dropping my hands. Then she asked me to stand in front of the other two ladies and she pointed out all my wounds and incisions, which made me turn around a couple of times. She then asked me to lift my scrotum so she could show those scars too. I did so and watched as the therapist ran her fingers tracing the scars, getting to the one closest to my organs. I had to turn around, bend over and spread my legs so they could see that scar so near my balls. I could feel her fingers and I began to lose control. When I turned around I covered myself but the therapist said it was unnecessary but they all appreciated my modesty and trying to save their feelings. I moved my hands and stood fully erect and stayed that way for another half hour or so, then I got dressed and left. There is more to this tale, but I am out of time.


After th