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Learning to lose your modesty
In my freshman year of high school I rode with some friends after school. There was an accident, a girl was killed, and I ended up in the hospital with a broken pelvis, a broken femur and internal injuries. The boy driving was dazed but that's all.
In the hospital I was sedated and I don't have any memory of how they treated me or took care of me. But I went home, with a brace around my lower back and immobilized further with a halo thing around my thigh. I was kept in bed without any underwear on, just a small hospital gown tied around the neck. It was impossible to stay covered up and my ** and bare ** and bare ** were flashed to anyone who walked by.
It was up to my mother, or my older sister, to wipe me clean. My legs opened up and everything exposed, no one cared about my privacy. My brother, my father, and friends saw me basically naked.
It took several months in all before I could get around in a wheelchair, and my father or brother had to help me up out of the bed into the chair, and out of the chair up to the bed. My gown flapping around, my brother would grab my breast in his hand after he had me seated. "Nice".
I had a very quiet celebration of my 17th birthday, the memories of the girl that died in the accident were still fresh and celebrations were discouraged. I went back to school on crutches, and later a cane. I had a friend at school who helped me sit on the toilet and wipe myself, and helped me back on my feet and would pull up my ** and pants. Taking care of someone who is so badly injured takes a lot more than guts.
I got over my embarrassments, my self conscious moment, by the time I was able to walk more or less on my own, my mother, sister, brother or father helped me into the shower, and took me out and wrapped me in a towel. I wasn't embarrassed any more of being seen naked. And my brother's squeeze of my breast was his way of letting me know he was there for me. "Nice". If I had been a guy I suppose he would have swatted me on the **.
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