The Doctor and the Patient Ch. 01

The crash and getting used to my new 'body' with a little help from a friend.

After my accident that paralysed me from my chest down, I hated my 'new' body. It felt different, numb and in some places, I couldn't feel anything. They said I was lucky because my spine wasn't completely severed but it took a while for me to understand what that meant and how being partially paralysed impacted my body.

When I first woke up in hospital, I couldn't move anything from my neck down. I was placed in a halo that held my neck in place and one of my first thoughts was how I would go to the toilet? I was so embarrassed until a kind nurse told me they had put an indwelling catheter into my bladder to drain it.. She explained how they had done it and all I could think was that they, the doctors, had seen my private area while I was completely unconscious? I could feel my cheeks burn a reddish hue. I didn't enquire any further.

When I finally arrived at the rehabilitation facility, I spent another month in bed, slowly getting up into a wheelchair for small periods due to my low blood pressure. Eventually, I was able to spend a few hours up. This meant I could finally shower in a commode wheelchair with the help of the nurses and use the toilet.

It felt strange watching the nurses wash me, soaping my body and yet I had no idea if the water felt hot or cold. They were always careful to make sure I was very clean in my private areas as they told me it was a site for infection and needed to be clean. I was just grateful to be helped so understood completely.

I had an indwelling catheter in for a month when the doctor came into my room and discussed other options for managing my bladder. They wanted to take out my indwelling catheter and start me on a 'time-table' regime. It meant every few hours, I would get into bed, and be wheeled into a special 'urology' room. Here, they would empty my bladder and see if I could hold my pee.

Initially, I had to wear pads and diapers as I wet myself a lot before I could get onto my bed and have the nurses empty my bladder. I was also embarrassed as the whole process of emptying my bladder was a performance! They would prepare my body by taking off my pants and pulling down my knickers or diaper. Then when I had been wheeled into the urology room, they spread open my legs, washed my genitals carefully and inserted a catheter to empty my bladder. Then they took note of the amount of urine and often said I was a good girl for holding on to so much. I would laugh as I had no control, but it was nice they made me feel good for something.

I did notice that when they wiped my genitals, I felt a strange tingle. It was numb but there was something there. I never said anything as I didn't want them to know that when the nurses wiped me down, it felt nice in a strange, numb way.

Before my accident, I masturbated a lot but afterwards, there seemed no point as the feeling was so numb and I didn't want to try. I also hated the sight of my new disabled body. My once flat tummy was spongy and soft. My legs had become skinny from the wasted muscles, I never thought anyone would find me attractive again.

Then I met the rehab-facilities urologist. He was very kind and explained my situation. He thought to strengthen my bladder, it might be good to re-insert the indwelling catheter and attach a bladder bag to my bra so the pee had to travel upwards, making my bladder work harder. I was embarrassed at first as hadn't worn a bra since my car accident, he seemed to think I could wear one but I couldn't put it on myself. My mum bought a cheap bra and the urologist helped attach the bladder bag to my bra. I couldn't even feel my nipples, so it was strange to see him stroke my breasts to flatten the bag onto my chest. As part the assessment to see if his idea would work, he said he had to ascertain what feeling I had. I remember him helping unbutton my baggy shirt and exposing my naked upper body, then running his hands down slowly over my shoulders, then down to my breasts. He stopped at my nipples and flicked them, asking what that felt like. It was the first time anyone had touched me like that, and my nipples felt strangely numb. His behaviour seemed inappropriate but he had done his assessment of me in front of my mum so I assumed it was professional. He certainly paid special attention to me and for the week I trialled his method, he would often stop me, lift up my top, smooth the bladder bag over my chest and always, at the end, he'd roll my nipples between his fingers asking if my sensation had changed.

The strangest thing was that he was older and married, yet although it felt wrong for him to touch me in that way, I felt excited too. I think I was so starved of being touched, I pretended he was doing it to turn himself on, and it made me feel wanted. I desperately felt like I needed to be seen in sexual way, not just as a piece of meat in a wheelchair.

Despite his age, I trusted him and knew he had my best interests at heart. Although I knew this was just his job, I couldn't help but notice that when he adjusted my urine bag that was being held in position by my bra, he'd slide my bra up over my perky breasts and roll my nipples, it began to give me feelings I hadn't felt in other parts of my body. Over the week, I'd often see him in the corridor and after a few days, I began to pro-actively ask him to 'adjust' my bag. He didn't always touch my breasts and nipples, but I began to enjoy these brief interactions.

As the week ended, I had an appointment with him, and my mum wasn't able to attend. I wheeled into his clinic and he helped me onto the therapy bed. He asked me about the week, and I explained I wasn't sure it worked as I had leaked so much. He seemed annoyed and wondered if my catheter was blocked. I was handed a gown although without my mum, I couldn't put it on, so he ended up helping undress me.

I lay down as he inspected his handy work. He started with the bag which he unclipped from my bra. He placed a spigot in on the end and took the bag away. He traced the catheter down to where it entered my urethra and finally said he didn't think the catheter was blocked. He then placed a syringe of saline into the catheter and pushed 200mls into my bladder. I felt heady as I lay there and suddenly he quickly grabbed a pad, placing it under me as the saline trickled out. I was embarrassed, first as I was only wearing a bra as my gown was open, and second, he had seen my wet myself.

His clinical demeanour changed and he suddenly placed his hand on my head, smoothing my hair and smiled at me. "Well, it wasn't blocked but your bladder isn't strong enough to push your urine uphill it seems. I've just given you a wash-out so you shouldn't get any infections. Are you ok if I quickly sanitise the area?" he asked. I had no idea what he meant but nodded politely.

He put on some gloves and grabbed some wipes. He then proceeded to wipe me down there, more thoroughly than the nurses did. My leg spasms as he flicked past what I assumed was my clitoris. My cheeks burned with embarrassment. Sensing my discomfort, he covered my chest so I couldn't see what he was doing. I noticed my breathing was getting quicker and my thoughts changed from embarrassment to arousal. I was also feeling woozy, had he given me something to relax?

Time seemed to change as I lay there, I no longer cared if he could hear my deep breaths, instead I closed my eyes and started enjoying the procedure. I remember feeling him roll me to the side and unclip my bra. Now I was completely naked as the sheet had slid off me. He rolled my nipples and I gasped out loud; I knew he was probably enjoying himself as much as I was and it didn't seem to bother me.

I don't remember how I got back to my room, but when I awoke, I was still in a gown although my bra had been clipped back up. The indwelling catheter had been removed and not replaced and I was still not wearing any knickers but had been positioned on a pad so didn't feel so anxious. He then entered my room and walked over to my bed.

"It's a shame the method didn't work but it was worth a try I thought." I nodded, wondering if it had all been a dream. He had awoken parts of my body and I knew I'd want more, yet being in hospital, I knew that would be difficult. I was grateful for his expertise however and thanked him. He smiled and winked at me. "I'm glad you helped me understand what I am capable of Dr..' I said shyly. I then mustered the courage to ask him if he minded unclipping my bra which had become uncomfortable as I lay on my back in bed. Of course he didn't, and I was rolled once again. His hands quickly undid the clasp and he slipped my bra out from under me, rolling me back onto my back. I was aware I was naked again and he adjusted the sheets, folding it over my naked body. I was slightly disappointed I was covered but after the sheet had been positioned, he tucked it in, smoothing it over my body. His hands then rested on my chest and I saw his face look concerned. He slid his hands under the sheet and as one hand rolled my nipple, the other grabbed a small pad that was tucked under my body. His hand stayed under the sheets, rolling and pinching my nipples and I had to suppress my heaving breathing again.

My legs spasmed open and his hand then moved down and cupped my genitals, probing my sex with his un-gloved fingers, rubbing me and causing my legs to shudder with pleasure. I couldn't believe this was actually happening, his brazenness obvious as my door had been left open. After his 'examination', he wiped me down as apparently, 'I was very wet down there'. As he left my room, he gently touched my forehead "You're a very good girl" he said in a husky voice, "but I have to be off, I have something to ahem, attend to..". I smiled at him and thanked him again. It was the first time I had felt more than just a patient, and it had made me want more. My body may have been paralyzed, but I still had feeling, at least unusual feelings that could certainly turn me on. I smiled as I slipped into another slumber.

He recommended I have a supra-pubic catheter inserted so I was taken over to another hospital to have the procedure. I silently wished it had been him playing with me again... I didn't see him very much after that incident on my bed, but when I did, I always managed to give him a big smile, and he'd pat my head. I craved his hands elsewhere on my body but he didn't try touching me again. I remember hoping he hadn't been put off, perhaps I was, after all, just not attractive anymore?