fracturopa's storie(s)
I heard the front door open and close, Greg always closes it too hard. “Babe?” I heard him call from the foyer.
“I’m in the living room,” I answered. My hands were shaking, I had goosebumps on my arms from the mix of excitement and nervousness of Greg seeing my in my cast. Would he be repulsed by it? Would he find it as sexy as I do?
I would have paid any amount of money to have a camera to record Greg’s face when he came into the living room and saw me. He took a couple of steps before he realized and then he just stopped dead, his mouth half opened. I couldn’t quite make out his expression, it was a mix of shock, confusion, and, dare I hope, lust.
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Samantha left the room and I was alone for the first time with my cast. I sat in silence for a few minutes and just stared at it. The hard, black cast set against the soft white of the pillow it rested on. I ran my hand along my casted thigh, the fiberglass was rough, tactile against my hand. My eyes followed the length of my cast, from about 4 inches below my crotch, down my thigh, gently bending over my knee, perfectly rounded against my calf, and softly angled down my ankle and foot, my tan toes appearing from behind the pillow of white stockinet at the end of the cast. I wiggled them again, just to be sure they were still mine. I couldn’t believe the feelings I was having, the aftershocks from my orgasmic experience earlier were still cascading over me in waves. Despite everything, I had to admit that this cast was turning me on. I thought of Greg, and I hoped that he would feel the same way. The thought of my big, strong husband taking care his damsel in distress was even more of a turn on. I couldn’t wait until he got home.
“KLX Corp., Laurel James’ office,” the overly chipper voice said.
“Hey Jess,” I said to my assistant on my cell phone as I waited.
“Hey girl, where are you?”
“I’m still here at the doctor’s. I…I need a favor.”
“Sure babe, whatcha need?” Jessica asked.
“Ummmm, I need a ride.”
“Why? What’s wrong?”
“I, well…my knee is worse than I thought. They’re telling me I’m not going to be able to drive,” I said.
“Oh, OK…no problem…I’ll be right there.”
“No hurry, they’re not finished with me yet. Maybe an hour or so, I guess. And tell Jack that I won’t be back this afternoon and I will see him in the morning.”
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I watched the clock. It was one of those older clocks, like the kind that hung right above the chalkboard in school. The hour hand pointed south of 3 and the minute hand pointed at the 4. 3:20. The red second hand seemed to go backward, time had stopped. I had no real concept of how long I had waited, ten minutes, twenty minutes, it didn’t really matter. The throbbing in my knee had subsided, leaving just a gentle soreness. I knew that it would hurt again if I walked on it. I was waiting for Dr. Watkins to return to tell me what might be the reason my knee hurt. I can’t imagine that it will be good news. How will I get to work if I am on crutches? Will she make me wear one of those huge braces like I saw on that woman in the waiting room? How will I get anything done? I have a presentation tomorrow afternoon. I can’t believe this is happening!!
I sat there for about 15 minutes with nothing much to do. It allowed me plenty of time to imagine the worst. What would everybody at work say if I came in tomorrow on crutches? How would I get anything done? Will the doctor put me in a brace like the one I saw earlier? How would I handle any of this? Why did I even say anything to Dr. Gilliam?
There was a knock on the door followed by a woman entering pushing a wheelchair. If I had to guess, and I am terrible at guessing these things, I would say she was in her mid to late 50’s. She introduced herself as Gail and pushed the chair in and set the brake. I swung my leg off the table and made to walk the two steps to the chair. My knee had stopped throbbing and felt about the same as normal, just a little twinge. That changed with my first step on my right leg. The pain I felt with the hop returned immediately. I winced and got my weight off that leg as quickly as I could. Gail reacted quickly, “Oh my, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize it was that bad,” she quickly came over and offered her shoulder and put her arm around my waist to make the last step. As I settled into the wheelchair, Gail reached over and took the pillow off the table. She gently lifted my foot up and held it elevated while she quickly and expertly raised the right footrest. She put the pillow down on it and lowered my leg onto the pillow.
The nurse waiting for me at the door was the spitting image of a young Meg Ryan, you know, like Top Gun Meg Ryan. She was on the shorter side and wore burgundy scrubs with the obligatory Crocs. As I got to the door she introduced herself as Samantha and led me down the hall to Exam Room four.
I got up on the table as Samantha directed. “So, Mrs. James, your file says that you injured your right knee. Can you tell me about it?”
“Please, call me Laurel,” Mrs. James sounds too old. “I didn’t really injure it. It just started hurting when I would work out.”
“Okay. Does it hurt just towards the end of you workout or all the way through?”
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Shit, I forgot to cancel that appointment.
I was leaving the restaurant after landing the Belding account over lunch. It was now after 1, the appointment was at 2, much too late to cancel. I was walking to my car when my knee gave out ever so slightly while going down the steps from the restaurant. That’s twice in two days, maybe I should go, it’s too late to cancel anyway. I called my assistant and great friend Jessica.
“Hey Laurel, how’d the Belding lunch go?”
“Great, they signed for two years. Jack will be pleased.”
“He better be, he owes you big time,” Jessica said, “you on your way back to gloat?”
“Mrs. James, this is Hudson Orthopedic calling to confirm your appointment tomorrow , Friday May fifteenth at 2 o’clock with Dr. Wilkens,” the much too cheery voice bellowed from my car’s Bluetooth speaker, “please call if there are any problems. See you tomorrow.”
Crap, I forgot all about that appointment. I should just cancel. I don’t know why Dr. Gilliam made it in the first place.
It had been over three weeks ago that I had a routine check up with my regular doctor. During the appointment, I mentioned that my right knee was sore after my workouts. She took a look at it, recommended that I take it easy on the workouts for a week or so. As I was checking out with the nurse, she mentions a referral to an orthopedic surgeon. I was confused, Dr. Gilliam didn’t mention it to me. The nurse called Dr. Gilliam who confirmed that she wanted me to see an orthopedic surgeon just to be safe. The surgeon was a friend of hers, and she would take good care of me. Dr. Gilliam thought I might need some physical therapy. I didn’t think much about it. In fact I didn’t even mention it to my husband. The orthopedic clinic called about a week later with the appointment time and date. I wrote it down somewhere, then promptly forgot about it.
Steve was in heaven. He tried hard to hide his astonishment at his good fortune. He sat in the back corner of the waiting area of the orthopedic clinic. The previous night he picked Heather up and took her to dinner. They ended up at his place, so Heather was without her car in the morning. Steve drove her in to work and was here to pick her up. He showed up early and took his seat in the back to wait, secretly hoping that he might catch sight of a cast. He was rewarded in spades. When he came in, he was immediately met by a teenaged girl on crutches with a red short leg cast heading out the door. Steve held the door for her and her mother as they left. When he got inside and sat down, he was treated to even more eye candy. Directly in his eye line was an attractive mid-thirties brunette with an off-white long leg cast. The cast went all the way into the grey skirt she was wearing. Steve could tell that it was well worn, she was probably here to have it removed. Steve’s eyes lingered on her toes. They were not long, but they looked amazing protruding from the cast. Her toenails were painted a bright, brilliant pink. When her name was called, she gingerly worked herself into a standing position leaning on her crutches. She settled into a wheelchair and propped her cast on the leg rest, affording Steve a wonderful view of her cast and toes.
Heather was hanging around the front desk on Thursday morning, waiting for the next patient. It was a little slower than normal, they had only seen four patients. Three were follow-ups, and the other was a simple sprained ankle. “What’s next?” she asked Allison.
“Let’s see,” Allison said looking at the computer schedule, “well, it looks like one of our regulars is back.”
“Regulars?”
“We have a few patients who seem to keep coming back again and again,” Allison explained.
Kelly was passing by when she heard the conversation, “Which one is it?” she asked.
