So much for out-patient... <_<

Basically I was expecting my surgery at around 8-9 AM yesterday morning, I was glad because that seemed pretty soon and I was hoping to get the whole process over and done with at top speed.

I had some cream applied to my hand to numb it nicely so the tube would not hurt when shoved in and watched a BBC new report about the cost of parking at hospitals and the heatwave that was apparently going to strike as soon as I was bed bound.

Then a nurse brought some bad news, apparently due to some reason or other (perhaps a mix-up or maybe some emergencies) my op had been delayed to around 2PM. I was less than pleased at this turn of affairs but decided kicking up a fuss would not really acheive anything and so just waited, spending the time reading and on the internet. I also met the anaethetist who was a lovely chap and very encouraging. Oh and the nurses were superb, as NHS nurses tend to be.

It turned out the delay was even larger than expected and eventually I did not get the op performed until around five upon the clock, most irksome and the wait dragged on horribly towards the end when I was moved into another waiting room and a wait I had expected to reach around the five minute mark took forty.

But finally, and about ten minutes after the doctor had checked my weight I was ushered through to the surgery room and had a tube inserted into my left hand (which had had another application of the cream since the last one wore off) that I barely even felt and then I was put under.

Beforehand though I told them that the prepuplastory was cancelled since I had cured it via the Beauge Method (I thought that they would already know!) so the stretch was not performed, thankfully. However I was also a little paranoid about awakening a prepuce short and sans sheath (which would have made all my hard wanking work a bit of a waste of time, not to mention the Beaugeblog itself) and thus jotted down "Circumcision" under the list of operations I was not prepared to have performed upon me without consultation. I considered putting down castration and eunuchification as well but decided to give the surgeons a little more trust than that.

I have never been under a general as far as my recollection goes (although I did when I was seven months old) and it was not really an experience I can easily talk about, which is sort of the point. It was basically plunging to sleep while not actually feeling tired.

I woke up later that day and the first thing that I did was check my penis, which was still cased in a double layered sleeve of erogenous tissue, much to my relief. My pioneering hand then discovered that my genitals had been encased in some innovative contraption that seemed to be a combination of a cast, a sling and a dressing. I am aware that it undoubtably has some valuable purpose (protection of the wound and from infection more than likely) but it was awfully uncomfortable to the extent of actually causing me pain, besides the wound itself there was also some swelling that was crumpling around the confines of this tight device in a must unpleasant fashion.

Thankfully I got some pain killing meds that made that die down nicely.

It still made a trip to the toilet somewhat problematic: the first time I took one such visit I was certain that the device had been placed to far back and would become coated in my defecation. Thankfully this was not the case, although I did have to use some front-to-back wiping which is the opposite of standard. Ah yes, and the foreskin came of use as well! My penis protrudes from the dressing at such an angle that my standard urination routine can not be used so instead I just bend the skin down and let the flow deflect along it and down into the toilet in a neat fashion.

I was hoping to go home but apparently the surgery had been left to late: the out-patient ward closed too soon for my reaction to the anaesthetic to be properly observed so I was forced to stay in overnight. It was nice enough and thankfully I had no adverse reaction to the general (although I did feel a little sick when I got home and voided a little bit of bile before I made this post) and the room was lovely.

In the early afternoon the next day I was discharged and went home, apparently I have to lie still for a week, news that was not all that heartening considering a prominent story was that Britain was going to have its hottest Summer in history and of course the cast/sling/dressing.

The latter apparently could not be wetted, the doctor told me I could have a shower and towel it dry but not have baths but earlier a nurse said I could have neither.

It is going to be a rather smelly and uncomfortable week but I do have a perfect excuse to stay completely static and instead of the standard parental complaints I actually receive a chiding if I move.

Be careful what you wish for hmm?

My balls are feeling a lot better now, although they hurt if moved. Walking? Laughing? Sneezing? Coughing? All bring pain.

Hopefully that will be gone soon though, and my ma is just off obtaining lots of nice (NHS supplied) drugs to combat my pain. So perhaps I will escape this operation with both balls and sanity intact!


Thanks ever so much to all of you, your words were very kind indeed and very, very much appreciated.