This is utter bullshit. I barely hurt myself at all, the procedure was basically unnecessary, and the fact that I had to stay overnight wrecked a perfectly good camping weekend. FUCK.
As if that sack of shit isn't bad enough, I haven't been laid in about a week now, and I am hornier than I can ever remember being.
There are three other guys in this ward with me, and they're all passed out. That dude looks like someone freshened him up with a tire iron. That guy over there seems like he's having a bad day too.
I am so sexually frustrated that even that old fart with whatever is wrong with him, is starting to look like an option. I mean, maybe? The mustache is kind of hot.
They'll discharge me soon. They have to.
I smell like old sweat, because I was working outdoors when the accident happened and I still haven't had a chance to shower. There's a small bathroom off the ward, but I can't figure out how to take my stupid ass-flashing gown off while this drip is still in my arm and where the fuck are the nurses?
The clicker produces nothing. Fuck this shit. My drip stand has wheels, so I get up and unplug it. It starts making periodic beeps of disapproval as I drag it behind me out into the corridor. Where the shitting monkeyfucks is everybody?
And then it hits me. It's the middle of the night. I'm not sure what day it is. Maybe I got more fucked up than I thought?
I drag my drip stand down the corridor as I head towards the nurse's station. The lighting is low because it's night shift, but I don't get far before I'm intercepted.
"Woah buddy," the nurse says, "you're not supposed to be out of bed yet."
He's the most attractive human being I have ever encountered dear god I am horny.
Seriously, he's pretty hot. His hair is close cropped, with a slight fade. He shaved recently, but with a face like his, that doesn't mean much. He looks like a bad boy, and I can spot where he's taken his eyebrow piercing out - probably not allowed to wear it at work. That could go badly wrong near an MRI.
But it's his lips I'm staring at. They're so full, you know they'd be amazing to kiss, but oh how much I want to slide my cock between them.
"I really need to shower," I tell him, and suddenly I'm not shouty anymore. I'm actually just tired, and freaked out. "I'm not sure how long I've been out, but I smell really bad, and I just want to get clean, but I can't because of this fucking drip."
I hang my head. He can see how upset I am, and he's sympathetic. He puts his hand on my shoulder.
"You're up and about, which is great. Physio said we shouldn't push you the first day, but she wanted you to walk as soon as possible. So this means you're strong and you're healing well already - it's good news!"
Yeah, I was definitely more fucked up than I thought when I came in. It's coming back to me in pieces.
"I can't let you shower right now," he tells me, "because that dressing has to stay dry. But I'll help you wash up; there's a way I can pass the drip bag through the sleeve of your gown. It's easier than it sounds. Come on."
We head back to the ward, me still dragging the drip stand doggedly. He offers to take it from me but I'm not that fucked up yet god dammit.
We step into the bathroom. He begins running hot water into the tub, and locks the door for privacy.
"OK, normally we do this at your bed, but it's messy and we have to change the bedding after. You're walking fine, so, I'll assist you in here. Turn around, please, so I can get the gown off you."
So bossy, just telling me to undress. Such a horny nurse.
I turn around, and he undoes the neck of my hospital gown. He unclips my drip bag from the stand, does the thing I don't see, and suddenly, without removing the dripline, I'm standing naked in front of him in disposable blue hospital underwear that isn't doing as much as it could to disguise a pretty significant semi.
It's awkward. I mean he's smokeshow hot but he's like, my caregiver or whatever. I address it by making a joke.
"So are you getting undressed too, or what?"
The bit lands perfectly, and he pisses himself laughing. "Fuck you," he says, still grinning, "I'm trying to work, man."
But both the awkwardness and the formality have evaporated. He clips the drip back onto the stand.
"I'm going to wash you now. I'm not doing your hair, it's too messy. It's easier for me if you can stand, but if you can't, that's what that chair thing is for."
I'm good to stand.
He puts a little gel on a sponge, and dipping it in the hot water, he begins washing me, starting at my left hand, working up over my shoulders, and down my right arm. I relax into it, closing my eyes. Such a simple thing, being bathed by another guy, but the pleasure is wonderful. I feel at peace.
