Monday, January 26, 2015

Totally Tubular

Today things are better.

I've taken three Percocets in the last few days. As I mentioned in an earlier post, painkillers have made me nauseous in the past and I avoid them. But a nurse on Friday insisted I would want something strong for today when the doctor removed the drainage tube from my scrotum. So I got my prescription (walking around CVS like Fred Sanford) and asked the guy at the counter what I could do to alleviate the sicky. He said to take it after eating. So I tested one that day (Saturday). It went okay. I tried one yesterday because Saturday went well and I'm not enduring pain because I want people to think I'm tough. I took one this morning for the tube-tearing.

You're not supposed to operate heavy machinery on Percocet and I realized why. You don't get this feeling like, "I'm a bit sleepy." You get a feeling like, "I'm about to pass out." It comes on fast and out of the blue.

Anyway, I went to the doctor's office, he pulled the tube as nonchalantly as if it was a magic trick. ("What's this behind your scrotum? It's a shiny new coin!") I barely felt it. It hurt just a tiny bit more getting the stitches yanked. Never trust a nurse who doesn't have a scrotum. I got a little gauze pad to block my juice hole.

I go back Friday to get the staples removed. No more painkillers for me. I'm feeling a lot better, anyway. Now it's mostly about healing up so I don't spill out all over the floor when I lift something heavy at work next week. I'm washing clothes now and soon I'll be taking my first post-op shower. My jockstrap smells like it's come out of winter storage from a giant's asshole. I'm going to grab some underwear snugger than boxers and just stick a feminine hygiene pad done there. Hopefully my hole will glue itself up soon.

Saturday, January 24, 2015

Spongebloodbath

I was in pain all day yesterday after the operation. My son summed up my thoughts by quoting Dean Venture from the "Are you there, God? It's me, Dean." episode of The Venture Brothers. Dean has to deal with testicular torsion in that episode: "Suddenly it just felt like someone kicked me in the rocks, and—and they never took their foot away!"

Last night I took off my bandages to wash up and change them. Someone at the surgery center told me I have to see the doctor on Monday to have some tube removed and I have to take sponge baths until then. I had an idea about what I would see under those bandages. My balls, of course, But I was under the impression there would be a small incision in my scrote seam and my sweet potato would have been removed through laparoscopic surgery. No sweat!

Under my boxers I wore a jockstrap, one size too small, I'm assuming to keep everything up tight and snug against me. Beneath that was a sort of ball-holding sling that was stuck to me through the magic of medical adhesives. I'm a very hairy guy. Medical people who stick things to me seem to feel it's a big hassle to shave the hair off first. It took about fifteen minutes of slow painful peeling. Slow is better than quick, by the way. Daniel Ariely looked into it. The mind doesn't take duration into account when gauging pain. Finally removing the sling, I found an assorted collection of absorbent materials which were all engorged with blood. Then I saw my scrotum. It was no small incision. It had been sliced open from stem to stern. There were stitches and staples. Healing is going to take longer than I thought. Then I started dripping.

As I washed myself, blood dripped onto the bathroom floor steadily, I stuck a few paper towels between my legs, and big gobs of jellied blood came off of my junk, looking like a heavy menstrual flow. I tried to poo, since my hospital gear was off, but I didn't want to force, for fear that my bag would rip open and I'd be bobbing for testicles in the toilet water. Finishing up my wash, I found what I figured was another piece of adhesive stuck to my undercarriage. I pulled it, with no luck, then tried to feel where it was stuck to my skin. It wasn't stuck to my skin. It went under my skin. then I realized this was that tube the doctor is removing on Monday. Glad I remembered before I tugged even harder. It took a little while to get myself clean, then a little while longer to get the bathroom clean.

This is good lunch reading, isn't it?

Friday, January 23, 2015

I'm Fine

Hey, folks. Surgery went well. Everything's cool. It doesn't even hurt much. I'm pretty tired, because I'm a night person and I had to get up at 5 am. Also maybe,  lingering anesthetics?  Anyway, I'll probably get some napping in.

Thursday, January 22, 2015

Let's Talk About My Balls

I'm kidding, of course. I'm only discussing my left ball. Within the larger sack, there's sort of a little baggie around each of a man's testicles. Fluid flows through these, doing whatever fluid does. Well, in my left baggie, fluid has been going in and not going out. From the outside, it seems like my left nut has swollen to the size and shape of a small sweet potato. (Mmmm . . . sweet potatoes . . . ) If it was out rolling around on the dinner table, I wouldn't even be able to get my hand around it. My fingers wouldn't touch.

As you might imagine, it can be uncomfortable and sometimes painful. So, while I'm still able to wear pants, I'm having something done about it. I'm going under the knife tomorrow morning. I figured my urologist could just stab my scrotum with one of those pointy Capri Sun straws and then poor street kids could play in the resulting spray as a way to beat the Florida heat. But apparently, it's not like that at all.

I don't do pain killers, as they make me nauseous. I got through the recovery for my last hernia without any drugs. I'm not saying that if my arm is torn off in an electric cord fight, I won't risk the nausea, mind you. But my friend tells me his vasectomy really wasn't that painful. His scrote did fill up with blood until it resembled a black grapefruit though. (Mmmm . . . black grapefruit . . . )

I only live a couple of miles from the hospital and since I pretty much live alone these days, I think it's dumb to ask somebody to pick me up and drive me there, so I'm going to walk there. I won't be walking back home later, though. Those medical types won't let you leave without a ride. They don't even want you staying home by yourself for the day that you have the anesthesia. Someone must have gone on an adventure once. I've never had anything that good. So I'll be hanging with my kids for the day and maybe we'll dine on sweet potatoes and grapefruit.

A lady I worked with asked me if I was nervous. Surgery doesn't make me nervous. In fact, dying on the table would probably be the absolute best way to go. "He died peacefully in his sleep while poor street children played in his human spray." Who wouldn't want that? 

Saturday, January 17, 2015

Friday, January 16, 2015

It's Not About Talent

The amazing Yuko Shimizu explains how she can tell who's going to make it over at her blog. As you've read in those big words above, it's not about talent. http://yukoart.com/blog/whether-you-make-it-or-not-is-never-about-talent/

Saturday, January 03, 2015

Trying Again

Okay, the picture thing didn't work the way I wanted. Trying it another way now, but if it works I still won't be able to place the pick exactly where I want it.

This Is A Test That, Unfortunately, You All Can See

Hi. I'm testing posting from e-mail. If I get the hang of it,  I'll probably post more.

 

I stuck a photo in here to see if that will show up where I meant it to.

Thursday, January 01, 2015

Happy 2015!

I hope all of us have a great time this year and make wonderful stuff happen! Now dance this shit out with Stromae!

Monday, December 22, 2014

Joe's Gone

Joe's gone. I said so in the title and you still didn't believe me. I liked Joe. I'm sure several thousand people are blasting this song all over the internet. I don't mind being several thousand and one.


Thursday, December 18, 2014

Nightmare

Being off of most social media means I don't hear the news. I still use Tumblr for the Mango and just learned about what went down in Pakistan. I don't have anything to say that be of any use to anyone. It's one of those nightmares come true that we humans are so good at.

Wednesday, December 17, 2014

The Dark Crystal



Just watched The Dark Crystal for the first time in decades. My nineteen year old daughter actually liked it. Shock! The beginning did move a bit too slowly for her 21st century tastes, though. I saw it twice in the theater when I was thirteen years old with two different groups of fantasy-loving friends. I'd forgotten much of it and was surprised at how old-fashioned it looked to me, but I still loved the variety of alien life Henson and his people created. Still good stuff!