By Eric Case
After my football career was cut short in college, I got into physio-therapy. I mean the money wasn't that great at first, but in just a few years I had my own clinic, and set my own hours, selected my patients myself, passing the rest onto my employees. All in all I ran a great operation and still do today (if I do say so myself!). I was a happily closeted bisexual, and I had never done anything with another male with the exception of a couple jack-off sessions when I was 11 or 12 years old.
It was last summer that things changed for me.. slightly. I was in a slow period for my own patients since football, and baseball players were my preferred clients. I usually took athletes who had sports-related injuries, or who were trying to fix problems so they could get back into the game. I also only worked with people who were usually 16 or older. Damien Wilder, a high school player who had injured his shoulder in the previous season came into the clinic one day with a worried look on his face.
"Hey Damien, how are things goin'?" I asked in the usual manner of our 'hey how ya doin'.
"Not so good Dr. Jackson," he said. "One of the kids who plays on Ryerson's team got hit by a car while he was riding his bike."
"I bet Ryerson's not too happy about that!" I said.
"Not one bit, but this kid's an amazing ball player! He rushed for somethin' like 35 touchdowns last year, and he doesn't have Medicare so he can't afford good treatment." Wilder was really worked up over the whole thing. Football was his life and he hated injuries as I well knew he should. "Hey doc.. you couldn't umm.. never mind."
"What's his name, his parent's names, and where is he?" I asked. I couldn't just sit around when I didn't have my schedule full and let some kid lose out on what could be a bright future in football. I knew coach Ryerson had sent Damien to sucker me in, but what else was I going to do? Last I'd heard Ryerson was coaching the 15 & 16 year old Bantam team so I could easily deal with that. "Tell Ryerson to give me a call, and I'll try to work something out for him."
* * *
A week later I had an appointment for a "physical evaluation" scheduled for Richard Perry. I waited in my office playing music, and filling out a report on Wilder's progress since it looked like he'd be ready to start regular training within another week when a boy came into my office on a set of crutches, shown in by our front secretary. "Dr. Jackson, this is Mr. Perry to see you."
"Ricky," the boy said smiling as he leaned forward onto his crutches and extended his hand across my desk. His hair was brown, and fell lightly on either side of his head. It parted down the middle, and was under-cut short at the back and sides. His bangs hung down just below his eyebrows and dangled above the most amazingly colored eyes I had ever seen. They were a teal-green color and bright. A keen intelligence could be seen behind them, as they sat above his button nose. He had high cheek bones.. not high enough to be an unattractive feature, but they were higher than average and gave him an almost elfish look. His ruby-red lips were full and looked absolutely kissable. This boy was gorgeous!
After the introduction, the secretary turned and closed the door behind her leaving me and the imp alone to go over the paperwork. "Alright Ricky.." I began slowly as I fumbled with papers on my desk. "Are your parents outside?" I asked.
"Oh no.. uhh.. my mom's kinda workin right now so she couldn't make it. Is that okay?" He asked with a look that was nothing short of adorable.
"Well to give you any kind of treatment I need those forms I gave your coach to give to your parents."
"Oh those? I got 'em in my school bag out in the waiting room. I'll go get em for ya in like one sec," he said.
"That's okay I'll have them brought in." I buzzed our receptionist and asked her to bring the bag. "Okay.." I began again. "My name is Daniel Jackson. Everyone around here calls me 'the doc' but I'm 'just' a physio therapist and I never went to medical school." The boy giggled. "You can call me Buster, Daniel, Danny, or Dan. Now I'll be honest with you Ricky, this clinic is pretty expensive to attend and I'm working with you for free. The way you'll pay me is by: 'A', following instructions like when I say to go home and get a good night's sleep, you do it; 'B' when you're here, you'll act like a guest and not make a lot of noise; and 'C' you have to get better." Ricky giggled again, and there was no way I couldn't smile at him.
The receptionist brought the bag in after knocking and set it on the desk. She then roughed up the boy's hair, and left. Ricky rummaged through his bag for a moment and then pulled out three sheets of paper with the appropriate information filled in. The papers were of course crumpled, but were otherwise in good shape. "Sorry they're crumpled up. I had to hurry after school to catch the bus here."
"That's not a problem, we'll just get them under a nice heavy book to flatten them out." He smiled a heart-melting smile at me. "Okay, so from this, and the referral information I got from your doctor, you were hit by a car and .. well you've messed up your leg. No broken bones and no ligament damage... that's good... ahh you had a hemotoma huh?" I paused.
"I dunno, I was un my bike, and the car like hit me and knocked me off and my leg got all swollen and I twisted my ankle too, and now my leg doesn't bend and I'm kinda messed up. Will I still be able to play football?" The tanned boy asked me with a pleading tone.
I looked at the boy very seriously. It's important that your patient is optimistic, but at the same time they have to have realistic goals, and a realistic idea of what the healing process will involve or they become frustrated and hurt themselves. "Well Ricky.. You have a pretty serious injury. Now you need to understand a few things. First of all do you know what your injury is?"
"Alright. You were hit by a car, and you bruised the muscle of your right thigh badly. The bruise took awhile to stop bleeding and you got a big .. well almost like a ball of blood in your leg. That's why it was swollen. Now what's happened is, normally your body absorbs the blood back into your system when you bruise yourself, but," I said looking at the photos of the original injury, "that's a really big bruise. Your body couldn't absorb it all and now you've a calcification which is like bone in your muscle, and you've got some nice scar tissue there too. Now you can get better. I've had a lot of patients who've had this type of injury and gone on to play their sports again, but it's not a simple two week deal. This is going to take a couple of months at least, and you have to stick with it, and you have to make it to your appointments."
"I'll make it to all my appointments, and I'll follow instructions and everything Dan I promise!"
"Well then I promise you I'll do my very best to help you get better, and with any luck, we'll get you ready to play football again by the fall. You'll have to wear an extra pad on that leg, but we'll worry about that a little closer to the time. Okay?"
"Deal," he said beaming his smile at me. We filled out a few papers just asking basic questions like what hurt and what didn't, as well as asking him a few questions about football. It turned out that Ricky was in fact quite a bit younger than 16 by my reckoning at just 13 years of age. He played running-back and wide receiver, and was Ryerson's big scoring man.. or.. boy I guess. Either way, he was a key player for his coach's team. After the little preliminaries, we went into one of the exam rooms and Ricky jumped up onto the table.
"Do you have any shorts on under your jeans?" I asked.
"In your bag then?" I asked.
"Nope just what I'm wearing," he answered simply.
"Well I need you with your jeans off so I can take a look at your leg now." The boy hopped off the table, undid his belt and zipper, and dropped his pants to the floor. He was wearing a pair of white briefs that left very little to the imagination. "Oookaaay," I sighed. "Let's have you on your back with your bad leg towards me.
Ricky laid on his back with his right thigh on the side closest to me. "Like this?" He asked sheepishly. I nodded and began gently feeling the boy's thigh rubbing my thumbs on his quad. I could easily feel the lump of scar tissue and calcific mass there. I glanced at his crotch noticing a growing bulge there and the boy looked up at me blushing a bright red color. "Sorry," he said nervously.
"Happens all the time," I said. "Nothing to be ashamed of.. that's why people usually wear shorts when they come here." By no means did people regularly get hard-ons in my exam room, but it was important for Ricky to feel comfortable with me and calling him a horny little freak would hardly have helped the situation. I went to the cupboard above one of the counters in the room and found a pair of shorts. They were obviously much too big for the boy's shapely slender hips, but giving him something to cover up with would help calm my libido as well as his. "You can put these on. There's a little big so you'll have to pull the draw string nice and tight."
Ricky eyed the shorts then looked at me. "I'm gonna feel kinda silly in those," he said. "Maybe just underwear is better."
I shrugged my shoulders and tossed the shorts back onto the counter. Who was I to argue if the kid wanted to give me a grade "A" view of his muscled legs. Ricky's calves were in amazingly good shape. They were more defined then most of the athletes I had ever worked with, and his left thigh was built nicely as well. His right thigh was obviously misshapen and that was what we would need to work on. I went through a series of quick tests to check Ricky's strength in his right leg as opposed to his left leg, and found his right leg to be in better shape than it looked. "Still pretty strong," I remarked getting a smile from the boy. Then we checked the leg's motion which was still limited bending only just over 90 degrees backward at the knee before the boy experienced light pain. He was of course on his stomach for this giving me a priceless view of his rear end. I was nearly in a daze as we finished up. I finished writing out a couple of notes and looked up at the boy sitting on the table. "Well Ricky.. you've got a ways to go, but by the looks of it we'll get you there. You can go home tonight and get a good night's sleep, then tomorrow I'll get you in at around 4:00pm okay?" Ricky nodded. "Okay, do you need to use the phone to call for a ride?"
"Nah I gotta take the bus," Ricky said simply.
"Well if you want to wait about ten minutes I can give you a lift," I said. I doubted he'd take the offer, but thought it was more professional to ask.
"What kinda car you drive?" The boy asked.
I laughed despite myself. Here I was offering this kid a ride home, and he was worried about driving into his neighborhood in an unattractive car. "I drive the red 97 Mach 3 Mustang out front."
"That's YOUR car?! You're gonna let me ride in that?" The boy sounded amazed.
"Sure why not?" I asked not understanding.
"Nobody ever lets me ride in their nicer cars," he said. "Anytime parents are picking up their kids, I either walk, or catch the bus."
"Why?" I asked.
The boy looked me square in the face. "Cause I'm dirt poor doc. Nobody who can afford their rich cars wants to be seen with the poor trash of the town." In our town of 7000 people, many knew who the "well to do" were. I got business from the neighboring big city, and the quiet cleanly atmosphere of the small town attracted people to the clinic. It was a major selling factor in many people's decision to come to our place.
"Listen," I began almost sternly. "I went to college on a scholarship for football. I don't come from money. I've worked hard to get where I am, and you never make it as far as I have if you forget the little guys. Now I don't have any patients littler than you, so I especially have to remember ya!" Ricky giggled. "I'd be more than happy to give you a ride in my car anytime you need one, and any of the socialites who have a problem with seeing you in my car can do the next best thing. No grab your pants, and lets go."
Ricky, at first, looked like he'd been slapped in the face and was shocked, but then his ruby-red smile spread across his face, and those teal green eyes flashed at me. "Thanks," he said softly. "I guess I shoulda known you were different with you takin me in free and all.. Thanks Dan."
"You're very welcome, now lets get our stuff together and get outta here," I said. I carried Ricky's bag, and my briefcase out to the car followed by Ricky. We both got in and I drove quickly across town and stopped in Ricky's driveway. "Okay, so appointment tomorrow, we'll start with ultrasound, get you stretching and working on the bikes. Then we'll get the muscle working some more with some muscle stim," I said. Ricky looked at me blankly. "I'll see you tomorrow at four, and show you what I'm talkin about. Sound good?"
"Sounds good," Ricky smiled. Then he hopped out and after slinging his school bag over his shoulders, crutched his way up to the house as I pulled off.