The Doctor and the Patient Ch. 02

The Orderly.

A few months later, after some nasty infections from my supra-pubic catheter, I tried catheterising myself. It was very difficult to learn how to empty my bladder every three hours with an elongated latex tube catheter, but I was guided by the nurses and doctors. I would often insert the catheter into my vagina so it took time to learn how to insert the catheter into my urethra. I think nearly every health professional in the rehab unit had seen me with my pants down, even the orderlies who often had to help me with my transfers onto my bed and into my wheelchair.

One kind elderly orderly was always there to help me. Initially, it felt strange having an older man help me with personal cares, but he was very gentle and kind and he reminded me of the urologist and his special appointments with me. I secretly fantasised about another 'incident' where my body would be at the mercy of a health professional but was sure the orderly had no intentions of that sort, he seemed so 'professional' and made a big effort to cover my body up.

The orderly would often help me onto the commode chair and wheel me into the shower area, as always, making sure I was covered -- he took my dignity seriously! I could shower myself mostly, but it was good to know he was just there, next to me in case I fell out of the commode.

I remember one time, I wanted to be alone and feel the water on my body so insisted on closing the shower curtain and have him wait around the corner. I struggled to wash myself. As I leaned forward to wash my legs, I fell too far and landed on the floor. The accident had meant I had probably wet myself too so I was glad the water was still running. I was so embarrassed and initially didn't want him to see, but he had heard me fall on the floor and was worried so opened the curtain. I had hurt my head when I fell so he carefully positioned my wet, naked body on the shower floor and washed me down. Then he gently lifted me back into the commode wheelchair.

I remember my head hurt a lot so I was grateful for his help, even if it meant he saw my naked paralysed body. I even asked if he minded helping me wash myself properly and luckily, he didn't seem to mind. He gently washed my still soapy hair and then soaped my body all over. I was keen on making sure I was clean so even asked if he minded washing my bottom. This was when something strange happened.

He probably assumed I had no feeling at all, but I did. He ended up taking off his latex gloves which had become wet and poured some soap into his hand. He then rubbed his hand over my bottom and underneath. He was so thorough I felt very grateful and lucky to have someone help me as often the nurses were in such a rush. He spent a while cleaning me, and while he washed underneath, I felt a pressure inside me, as if he had inserted his finger into me. My legs spasmed and parted as they often did when I had my bladder emptied by the nurses and the encounter I had had with the urologist. I looked down and could see his fingers down there, under the commode, rubbing my pussy. My belly was soft so the view was somewhat obscured, but I remember being aroused but also confused.

He kept rubbing me while the soap lathered, and my legs kept spasming. My breathing increased and soon I couldn't hold my legs back, I let out a groan and afterwards, found myself pinching and rolling my nipples, enjoying the last electric shudders coursing through my body. Meanwhile, during the whole incident, he just hummed away while concentrating on making sure my genitals were very clean and stimulated. I thought I heard him say I'd sleep well now.

Afterwards, he wrapped a towel around me and pushed me back into my room, gently lifting me onto my bed. I am very small so didn't need a hoist although they often insisted on using it due to health and safety. I was grateful to be back in my room and laying down as my head still throbbed.

He had to leave me to attend to another patient who needed help transferring so a nurse took over drying and dressing me. She checked my head and body for any marks but was so quick, I felt a little worried she had missed a mark. Later on, he returned to my room. I was still in my hospital bed and I was crying. My head still hurt and I was confused about the whole incident. It had felt amazing, just as it had with the urologist, but why had he done it? Had I inadvertently willed him to? Could he sense my desire to be touched? Suddenly, I felt guilty, he could lose his job if I said anything. I was so mixed up, I felt an overwhelming desire to cry.

He saw my tears and his face softened. He grabbed a facecloth and wiped my face. I was wearing a hospital gown but it hadn't been fastened at the back, so when he gently raised the bed up, my gown slipped over my breasts. I tried to grab the bed sheet to cover myself. He smiled at first and said he'd seen it all before, but then he covered me up. I realised perhaps I had made it up what had happened in the shower. He genuinely wanted to help me and seemed disinterested in the fact my body was paralysed, and looked different.

I summoned the courage to ask him if he could inspect my body for any marks after my fall in the shower. He said he was surprised one of the nurses hadn't. I told him Jenny, the registered nurse had, but was so quick, I was still worried. He seemed reluctant to help so I then told him not to worry. He seemed to be in a hurry so he left for the night and I finally fell asleep in my hospital bed. At least I was clean I thought as I succumbed to the sleeping drugs they had given me.

The next morning, my 'team' came in and assessed me. The doctor was concerned about the fall so said I would need two people to help me shower just in case. I admit, I had fantasised about being showered again by my orderly but could see that wouldn't happen again. I desperately wanted someone to keep exploring my paralysed body but needed help, and his 'washing technique' had brought about some interesting and exquisite feelings.

I must admit, part of me was angry as the pamphlet they had given me soon after I had arrived at the hospital had only discussed 'pregnancy' and that having no feeling 'down there' could be a blessing in childbirth. There had been no mention of pleasure or 'the paralysed orgasm' as I had coined the term. It was certainly different, but any stimulation seemed to cause some spasm that gave shocks through the body, much like the orgasms I had experienced before the car accident.

The routine didn't change much for the next few weeks. Washed, cleaned, bowel evacuations, bladder management and physio, that had become my life. My orderly friend had still helped as he was part of my care team but he seemed distant, I couldn't help but miss his friendship and care.

Then, a week before I was to be discharged, I was getting everything ready and my new wheelchair had been delivered to my room. I can't say I was excited to see it, but it was light and pink -- much better than the clunky hospital wheelchairs I was used to and had been using for a year. I transferred into it myself and was wheeling around when I heard a voice behind me. 'Nice wheels', it was him! I spun around and smiled, pretending to model in my new wheelchair. He laughed and together we joked about my new 'legs'. He asked if I wanted some exercise as he was heading to the equipment room to pick up a hoist for the new patient in room 2. Keen to try out my chair, I agreed.

We wheeled down the corridors together and I kept stopping as I wasn't fit enough to push myself the whole way. He eventually took over and pushed me. I didn't have handles on my wheelchair so he had to hold the back and my shoulders to push. Even feeling him touch me through my shirt on my shoulders felt nice.

We finally got to the store-room and he grabbed the hoist. "I can't help you back and carry the hoist too'. He looked concerned. I laughed and said I was ok and could make my way back on my own. He suggested I wait in the store-room for him and he'd return to help me back to my room. I agreed.

The store-room was musty and dark. Much of the equipment looked old and tatty but it was interesting to look around. I knew I wasn't really allowed to be here on my own so I made sure I was quiet. He finally returned and appeared sweaty. I asked him if he was ok, he said he had delivered the hoist then had to shower the new patient so took longer then he thought. He apologised but all I could think about was how lucky the new patient was!

I joked that I could wheel back and he could sit on my lap for a rest. He gave me a strange look, winked then said that might be a little inappropriate. Instead, he helped push me back to my room. I reminded him it was my last few days and he said what a good patient I'd been and that he wished more were as polite as me. I beamed at his 'compliment'.

The next day, I was wheeled into the shower room with my two nurses. They positioned me under the shower and then heard three bells ring. That meant there was an emergency and all nurses needed to return to the nurses' station. I sat there alone with the water running down my naked body. It was frustrating as manoeuvring the commode was impossible. It seemed like they had forgotten about me and I had started feeling faint from the hot water. I couldn't reach the warning bell and slowly slipped into an unconscious state.

I woke up in my hospital bed. I was dressed and even had my ted stockings on for my low blood pressure. I had no recollection of what had happened and how I had got back to my room. I was told later that the orderly had found me unconscious sitting on the commode and returned me to my room. He had also dressed me, pulling on my knickers and tight hospital stockings. He had even picked out a little dress and slipped that over me. I wasn't wearing a bra so figured that was a step too far. When he popped in to say goodnight, I thanked him for 'saving me'. He laughed and said it was his pleasure. I then stupidly scolded him for not putting my bra on. He seemed hurt and I felt mean for bringing it up. He then reached over and planted a small kiss on my forehead. It was inappropriate but at the same time, seemed perfectly natural. Before he left, he asked if I needed anything. I decided to ask him about the shower. I was leaving in a day so it made little difference, but I did want to know.

He blushed and said he didn't mind 'helping' me. He then apologised if he had crossed the line by taking his gloves off. I quietly said I kind of liked it, his fingers 'washing me' had felt nice 'down there'. He looked around, nervous as if someone could hear. He gently closed my door and asked me what I meant by that.

I told him I just felt like a piece of meat, I hated my new body and it was nice to feel something other than pain. He looked shocked but also had a strange look on his face. I started crying and again, he grabbed a face cloth and wiped my face. The facecloth was quite wet and my hospital nighty had a few spots where the facecloth had wet it. He asked if I wanted a change. I agreed it would be good as the room was cold at night. He slowly peeled off my nighty exposing my breasts and body. Strangely, he also took off my sheet so I was laying there, naked except for my knickers. He was being so professional yet I yearned to be touched.

He grabbed a new nighty and slipped it over my body, smoothing it down. His hands brushed against my breasts and my heart fluttered. He then asked if I wanted a skin check as he hadn't had time to do one earlier. I agreed it would be a good idea and he smiled. He gently tuned me onto my side and ran his hands over my back, then down my legs. He slipped my knickers down and parted my bottom, gently prodding around to see if the red spots disappeared when touched with gentle pressure. He then rolled me onto my back and parted my legs. I was totally naked now and strangely, I felt completely at ease. He then slipped his gloved hand between my legs and pushed any red marks.

I didn't notice him taking his glove off but I did notice my legs spasm the way they had in the shower. I couldn't see or feel what was happening, but my heart was racing. My breathing quickened and then, my whole body spasmed. He retracted his hand from between my legs and smiled at me. "you've wet yourself... but I'm not so sure it's pee...'. He grabbed some wipes, cleaned me up and gently dressed me again. I felt totally relaxed and sleepy and I hadn't even been given my pills. I joked that I wished he could help me to bed every night.

He adjusted his pants and again leant down to kiss my forehead. His voice was husky as he said good night. After he had gone, I lay there and had a huge smile on my face. If it felt that good to be touched down there, even though I couldn't really feel anything, I thought that perhaps sex might be ok too. Now I'd just need to find someone who would want to, although sighed as the idea of a man liking my paralysed body seemed absurd. My next thought was that I wished he could have had time to teach me more about my body...

The next day I was leaving. I packed up my meagre belongings and sat my bag on my bed. It seemed strange to be leaving. I'd spent a year in and out of hospital and finally, I had my new wheelchair so could go home. I hope I could see him but he wasn't rostered on. As I wheeled out the sliding doors and into the carpark where my mum was packing the car, a nurse came running out and slipped an envelope onto my lap.

It just had my name on it. I opened it once I was hoisted into the car and read it. He hadn't signed it, but I knew it was him.

'My beautiful friend, you made my boring job a little interesting, so thank you. Touching your numb little pussy and tight ass turned me on like nothing I've ever felt. I know you hate your new paralysed body but just because you can't move and have little feeling, you turned me on without even knowing. It was my pleasure to shower you, clean you. I wish I could have done more. It's hard when you're at my waist height most of the time, I think about that lovely mouth of yours on me. I hope we can meet again some time and maybe, I can help you explore yourself even more...' I scrunched the note up and shoved it into my bag, I was sure my pussy was wet after reading the note.

All I could think of was when was my next outpatient week back in rehab!