Tuesday, December 1, 2009

Sex with casts

I have a problem. I'm no longer raging with hormones. Or is that a problem at all?
I mean, that's why I started this blog in the first place...when Daddy doesn't want to play, I get my release here!

But ever since he broke and dislocated his ankle in a game of flag football, yes, flag football (read: no contact), the sex has been, well...non-existent.

"So, um...how are we going to do it? Will I have to be on top every time?" I asked Daddy, as the ER doctor walked out of the room.

"Frick, I don't knowwwww...just...can you get me the nurse pleeeasse?" Daddy winced and cried out. It was 11PM on a Tuesday night and we'd been waiting in the ER for four hours, since the ambulance came to pick him up from the mucky muddy field. Daddy was laid out in a stretcher, his left ankle bulging and twisted ninety degrees to the left...I kid you not, ninety degrees. I'd post a pic, but I don't want you to barf.

"Um, ok, you need more morphine?" I asked, a little annoyed that he hadn't answered my sexytime question. O

Daddy nodded, looking like a very hurt puppy. I ran out into the main room where all the doctors were in search of a nurse. I ended up bumping into the hot doctor that was tending to Daddy earlier.

"So um hey, how long dya think he'll be out for? Like, immobile, not being able to walk, move around, crawl, kneel.. you know.."

Hot doc gave me a weird look and was all, "we're not sure yet. I'm just going over his X-rays and it looks really bad. There's a big chance he's going to need surgery ASAP."

"Ugh, that sucks! But thanks!" I hurriedly found the nurse and told her to bring more drugs to Room 11.

Sometimes I wonder where I went wrong. Like, I majored in communications and all but had I put more effort into learning sig figs, memorzing trigonometry rules and actually passed Biology 10, maybe, just maybe I could've been a doctor of some sorts, cavorting with other doctors and doing doctory things and being considered part of the elite crowd because I spent all my youth behind books and doing residencies. I mean, frick, these doctors were only a few years older than me!

Then again, doctors work so much and lead such stressful lives, I'll bet they don't have as much sex as a normal person would.

"Did you ask me about having sex just now?" Daddy demanded, eyes all teary after enduring a reduction. For those of you unfamiliar with that term, let me explain what happens during a reduction. A team of doctors and nurses kicky everyone out of the room and strap on a bunch of tubes and attach a bunch of device to the patient, slowly give him a steady stream of drugs (on the street, it's called Special K) and then, attempt to pull, twist and put back in place the body part that is out of place.

"Um...why do you ask?" I treaded cautiously, feeling guilty about my selfish inquisition earlier. I just remembered what the nurse had told me about people on Special K. They don't remember anything.

"I dunno. I just thought you did. Then again, I thought I saw a rainbow and an elevator full of purple orks who were trying to come get me..."

"Nope, not at all!" I happily replied. "But now that you've brought it up..."

"Don't start." Daddy stopped me. I suppose I'll give him a week to think about it.

1 comment:

  1. come back to blog land; I'm the older version of you. we've got lots to chat about....find me at: http://studionightshade.blogspot.com/


Hormonally-Controlled Comments

Related Posts with Thumbnails