Circus Boy and the Charity Unicycle

This weekend was a time of anonymous booty texts. First was on Saturday, when I got a text from someone asking if I was out. I texted back 'who is this?' and it turns out it was some cop-off from *ages* ago. Well, nope, I was in bed. Alone. On a Saturday. This is my life now. But far better that than be out with some scumbag who thinks he can just pop up when he feels like it and that will be fine. <DOUBLE STANDARD ALERT!!>

So I texted back, 'y u contactin me now?'. Scumbag replied, 'cos I've been away xx :-)' Stick your kisses and smiley faces, I am nto impressed, Mister.

'Oh yes, away in that place where they chop off your fingers....'

Unsurprisingly, that was the end of that.

On Monday morning, I awoke to find a missed call and a text from  a number I didn't recognise. The text said, 'hey karen, how are you? Hopefully see you soon :-)X' Although I didn't recognise the number, I kind of assumed from the content that it was probably Circus Boy with a new phone, and I texted him back later on Monday (when chances are he would be up) saying, 'yeah, good, ta. Who is this?'  Then I got a bit worried and paranoid that it was someone to do with Steve trying to find stuff out about me.

But first guess had been right, it was Circus Boy. He phoned on Monday evening to see if he could come over to see me. I hadn't bothered to pick up the last time he phoned, cos I find him slightly exhausting (and not a in a sexual way!), but this time I was feeling on top form, so I thought why not, but I did say I had to be up early in the morning, sort of making it clear I wasn't up for shenanigans. Or so I thought.

He turns up here at a pretty early time for him, and since it was only yesterday I am able to remember all the things we talked about. I say 'we'. In fact, he talked while I kind of sat here open-mouthed at his performance over the next 8 hours.

First we had a run-down of what he has been up to recently - by which I mean yesterday, when he was fundraising for charity (even going on local radio) and almost got arrested for winding up a Policeman who didn't really 'get' him. So he put up a big sign outside the police station slagging them off. He is now trying to get sponsors for his unicycle ride of 20 miles, whilst simultaneously avoiding the police. This was also why he had a new phone number, as they had his old number and he no longer wants to speak to them!

Also, he is in a play, and 'getting kit together to make music'. To prove this, he performed his part in the play, and was trying to get me to act the other parts, but erm, I don't know them! And then he asked about me, and I told him we had been to a Doctor Who convention and met David Tennant and Billie Piper, to which he said, 'Oh, yes, I saw the.... I mean you told me last time I was here.' This is a lie, I'm almost a hundred per cent sure I didn't tell him about it because I doubt I'd have had chance (he was only here a few hours), and he wouldn't have SEEN anything cos the photo was in Son's room. He'd seen it on my Facebook before I blocked him, I am SURE.

Then he was talking about every girlfriend he has had since he was 15. This was actually really interesting, and arose because he'd started talking about what he had learned from one of his recent girlfriends, that he had been trying to 'save'. I'd said, 'have you never had a normal girlfriend? Have they all been horrible or crazy?' cause to listen to him you would think so. After hearing the run-down of his lovelife for the last 10 years,I know it is true, with the exception of one three month relationship with another girl so nice that when they split, she let him stay in her house with his new girlfriend. Oh - yes, wait up - that is CRAZY!

Then he goes, 'this is what my friends say I'm doing wrong, I'm going for all these girls who are needy and drain me of energy, when I would be better off with someone who is sorted and caring.' Long stare. Luckily, I can spot a 'let me in your pants, love' phrase when I hear one.

He then asked if I thought I had learned anything from my previous relationships. I started to say about how the relationship with Steve had turned my life around cos of making me look at why I'd let it happen etc, and then when I mentioned how I'd always thought of my childhood as happy until I looked back and realised it wasn't like other people's, he sort of jumped in and told me all the ins and outs of his relationship with his parents and siblings. Not gonna write it here, but suffice it to say that it raised a few red flags in my mind, to do with violence and also to do with his relationship with his mother. I've always wondered if he sees me as a mother figure, and the amount of counselling I did last night on this family subject makes me more sure that it is at least part of it.

So eventually he started saying how well I was looking, and we were talking about keeping fit. By this time, it is the early hours, and I had sort of thought to myself, 'I could easily be friends with this guy, and the red flags then won't matter, because it's just friends, and he is so funny, and he gets me, in fact, I feel astonishingly normal around him, and I don't think I even fancy him any more.' When at this point we started showing off our exercise achievements to eachother. Oh Jillian Michaels, you are definitely my hero, he was very impressed by my variations on a press-up, and he was showing me some others, and some yoga moves, and then he got hot and took off his clothes, and OH MY GOD I SO DO FANCY HIM.

All that was left was to put the world to rights for a bit  - again, this was his vision, not really mine, I was more of an interviewer, and I was not Jeremy Paxman. Then I sort of said how he would need to go because I had to be up at 6.30am - it was probably getting on to 4 by this time. He went to do a roll-up for the road, and was saying I should come and see him finish his unicycle ride tomorrow (Wednesday). I told him I am off to Scotland so I can't. He then said I should come to the open-mic night on Thursday, but again, I am in Scotland. It's not like it's likely I would drive up for the day!

Then when he'd rolled his fag, he said, 'can I stay?' Dear God, it's like last time revisited! NO! But I was nice about it - it was only cos I did need some sleep cos Tuesdays are a tough work day for me.

I told him to text me to let me know he'd made it through his unicycle ride ok (I'd already sponsored him), and he said he would do better than that and ring me after 7, when he has his free minutes. A big hug and a little kiss and a quick discussion about the sky and the state of the moon, and he was gone.

It has only been after the fact that I have realised I have missed out on FIT SEX. If I can break beds when I am a lazy non-exercising mare, what am I capable of now? I may never know! And there is also the little matter of me liking him more whenever I spend time with him. That's the reason I didn't just go for the easy shag, cos I don't want to get too involved and hurt. Even so, I didn't sleep a damn wink, was too buzzing,  might just as well have let him stay.

He's a strange boy, and still WAY TOO YOUNG, and I cannot for the life of me think why he wants to shag me after hearing the rundown of all his lovely YOUNG girlfriends. I try very hard to tell myself he is just looking for an easy shag, although surely there mist be easier ones out there? I cannnot work out what he wants from me. But I hold out a little hope, and an even littler torch. I am now going to text him a good luck message for tomorrow, and try not to wonder about whether he really will phone. I'm not usually a first texter, but I'm thinking I have knocked him back twice now, maybe I should show a little bit of interest to make up for it.

Or should I?

Unprofessional

Yesterday I got into work, and B_ said to me, 'you're going to thank me when you see who I've booked in for you.' I thought he was being sarcastic, because I always get given the people with mental health problems (I worked in mental health for years), or people who are difficult to deal with for whatever reason. So I sort of went, 'oh yes, what have you got for me now?' and he said, 'no, I mean it, you really are going to thank me.'

So I looked. And I thanked him. Mr Eyecandy was back!

Mr Eyecandy was initially B_'s patient a few years ago, and (as his name may suggest) he was HOT! Every Tuesday when I knew he was coming in, I'd put my lipstick on and I'd find any old excuse to go into the waiting room when he was there - the magazine rack had never been so tidy or the fish so well fed. If I had no feasible excuse, I'd just wander back and forth past the door trying not to let my tongue hang out too far. 

And then he became my patient. He needed craniosacral therapy, and I'm the only one who does it at the clinic, so there wasn't another option. It was one of the biggest challenges of my professional career. 

I have never, ever dated a patient - I have never even been interested in one (well, there was that one incident in 1989 where I gave a patient an appointment on Xmas Eve at the Accident Hospital mainly so he could sing Xmas carols for me, but that's not exactly the same thing). Even when I've got really close to long-term patients, so close that they have asked ME out, I've always said no, and been internally quite shocked, because (and this is apparently quite old-fashioned of me) I don't for one second allow myself to think of a patient in that way, however hot they may be. I know some physios think it is ok to date a patient if you transfer them to another physio, but I think it shows you were thinking about them in an unprofessional way in the first place. Patients should only ever know Karen the Physiotherapist, and as a physiotherapist I am nothing like the out-of-work me. Well, I am, obviously, but work me is a lot more tolerant and a lot more caring than out-of-work me. She also doesn't swear like a trouper, drink like a fish and snog unsuitably young men.

So having Mr Eyecandy as a patient was wonderful, but horrendous in equal measure. I already fancied the pants off him, because he hadn't been off limits, because he hadn't been my patient. And now here he was, in all his lovely partially-dressed glory and I was trying my best to be professional, even though I SWEAR he was flirting with me. Although B_ in the adjoining room was apparently trying really hard not to laugh because I 'was using my flirty voice.' Now craniosacral therapy is very hands-on, but the patient is always lying down, so once treatment was started, I could concentrate on business. And his lovely hair. And his lovely nose. And his lovely hands. And - well, you get the idea. But then I realised (with a little thrill) that he needed visceral manipulation. Which means you have them sitting on the plinth in front of you and you put your arms around them to reach under the rib cage. Then you try not to let them know that your heart is beating nearly out of your chest and you are having to try really hard not to snog their neck. That last sentence only applying to Mr Eyecandy of course.

Oh, they were happy Tuesdays, those were. Somehow I managed to keep my head enough that I didn't make a complete idiot of myself/get struck off/get anything more than slightly told off by The Boss.

But now Mr Eyecandy was back and my heart was flipping, because I would have to go through this all again (poor me, hahaha!). Thing is, it isn't just the way he looks - he is in general so totally my type. A bit arty, skinny but wiry, nice hair, well-spoken, sensitive, into self-help, damaged by life. 

Still, maybe in 3 years he had pigged out, lost his job, his dress sense and his hair, and joined the Tories. 

But of course he hadn't. If anything he was even more perfect than I remembered, and I LEURVED HIM again on sight. But I was prepared, and I was determined. I WOULD maintain my professional demeanour at all times, not least because no patient deserves some loony physio mooning over them. 

It was a partial success. I spoke to him completely professionally, no flirty voice, no girly giggling at his funny little comments, no cheeky through-the-fringe glances (seriously, I do think I maybe did all those things 3 years ago. I am ashamed. But maybe I can use it as an example of how my experience has improved my practice. Or maybe not). Then he got on the plinth, and I was fine while I was going through some exercises. Then I had to go to his head to do the craniosacral, and HIS HAIR IS SO BLOODY PERFECT, all shiny and soft. Plus, he's chatting away with his beautiful lips and can't tell that I had a little bit of a bigger breath-in than normal, and could smell his shampoo, and it is lovely and the smell of HIM is lovely too. Then there is that face, that perfect face, and I can see the perfect shape of his perfect nose to really good advantage from here.

The end of the appointment time comes, but we are still chatting, so I don't even finish on time. I book him in for next week. He wants a specific time to fit in with his work, so I offer to book him a second week ahead to make sure he can get it. I leave the offer of an appointment every week til the end of time unspoken.

I need his notes from 3 years ago, so I leave his current notes for the secretaries with a post-it attached - 'please can I have this man's old notes, because I heart him'. I am SO unprofessional :-(

At lunchtime when I was whittering on about this to B_ , M_ and J_, M_ asked, 'do you think he knows?'

Good question. Hmmm. 'I think he might remember :-( ' Because I was more obvious before, I think. If he was completely new, I don't think he would have noticed any of my secret adoration. 

B_ says I am going to get into trouble. At this rate, he is right. It's not like I'm being like the GP who would give completely spurious breast examinations. Or like the medics I used to live with who talked about 'teat clinics' and really objectified women in a pretty horrible way. But as much as I joke about it for entertainment purposes at work, I do feel bad.

If anyone has a  hair shirt, I can make good use of it.