This post actually starts the day of my castration. I’m sat in the communal lounge watching telly and I get my first stiffy as a eunuch. It feels quite nice, although the stitches pinch a little.
I’ve also regained control of my bladder, although trying to wee when your cock is taped in an upwards position is a little awkward: if I’m not careful I’ll be taking a golden shower!
After watching a film in the communal area last night, I went up to my room and finally opened the card given me by my husband. It was beautiful with wonderful loving words written inside. I think this card is going to become one of my most treasured possessions. Reading it released all the emotions of the day, and I cried tears of relief and joy.
About 10pm I fall asleep in my bed to the sound of rain. Absolute bliss!
At midnight, a nurse brought me some pain relief and checked my dressings.
I’d expected erections to be a problem post operation. I had expected them to be super uncomfortable and pull on my stitches. That wasn’t the problem. My otherwise perfect night’s sleep was interrupted every couple of hours by stonking great hard ons! Not painful, kinda delightful, but they did disturb me. I’m glad the equipment still works, I know that these will decrease and eventually disappear unless I get replacement T when I get home, but overall nighttime stiffies are a nice problem to have!
Morning comes and outside it is still raining, which is probably a blessing because otherwise I would be itching to go out, and since I’m not in any pain I would be at risk of damaging the stitches.
As to how I’m feeling this morning? A very strange combination of excited, peaceful (which would seem to be almost an antonym), content, but also quite horny!
I’ve just had a very emotional conversation with my husband. He is struggling with coming to terms with what has happened; he’s been trying to reach out to support resources and friends and not getting much luck. It is rare and difficult for him to try to get help, and so it’s especially painful that when he tries that he can’t get any.
I told him all about yesterday and how I was feeling now – the enormous sense of relief, excitement for the future, contentedness; and how I wished to share it all with him.
We talked about how it all came out and the lack of input and control he felt over the whole transition. I tried to hold his feelings with him and we cried together. There is so much love in our relationship.
I’m beginning to feel a little discomfort at the moment, so I was glad when breakfast came and the nurse brought some pain relief. She’s told me to shower as usual as she is going to change the dressing. She’s warned me that that is going to be a bit painful. I was surprised, I expect to be wearing the concrete nappy for another day.
My first eunuch poo was awkward. It felt as though I was trying to shit into my underwear because of the bandages. And usually I wee, then poo, then wee again, but with my cock taped upwards I couldn’t wee, so my poo was less than satisfying. Also I like to read on the loo, it helps relax me (and when I was a kid it was something mum would do, and I picked up the habit – it’s a quiet space where you tend to be left alone); however, trying to hold my cock in a position that I could try to wee or at least not wee all over the bandages was too tricky.
When the nurse came, she very gently removed the bandages and gave everything a clean. If I’d known, I would have shaved properly all around there before the operation because the bandages stuck to my hairs. She took some photos for the doctor, and I asked to take some for me so that I could see it properly and look back on my journey.
The scar itself looks like it starts right by my butthole, which is where the worst of the bruising is: there’s a big deep purple mound there. It then runs up the first third of my cock. The stitches are black and it looks a little like something Viktor Frankenstein would be very proud of (the stitches are very neat). When I saw my cock without the balls it just felt so thrilling, so right to see.
Then I helped her bandage me back up again. I like that nurse, she is very sweet (her name is Irma).
My husband continues to struggle with my transition. He was having some time away in Brighton, but returned home early after I told him that my surgery was going to be early: he’d mentally prepared for Tuesday and the Monday operation threw him off balance.
I spent nearly two hours on the phone with him listening. Since I’ve come out as eunuch, it’s thrown the entire history of our relationship into question for him: he feels as though I have lied to him for 26 years, which I suppose is true, but I also lied to myself for all that time too.
I reassured him as best I could that our relationship is going to be better than ever and that I loved him. At times I expressed my own frustration exactly as I felt it, being authentic, even if it wasn’t what he wanted to hear. I also remained quiet and heard difficult things about me, us, and him that needed to be heard.
It’s been a lazy afternoon basking in the afterglow of my surgery, catching up with friends, doing some reflecting and writing, practising Spanish, and lazing around. I went for a lie down, but then a nurse came to ask me for payment for my prescriptions from the surgery (I’ll add that info to my knowledge base I’m putting together for you all). I’ve also been catching up with friends.
I had a nice chat with Marla about castration and the problems people like me have in our own countries to get the treatment we need. She was kind and sympathetic.
After dinner, I sat alone in the lounge watching some film with dragons and tea wizards. Nothing too taxing.
As of this evening, despite there being others who’d had surgery like mine yesterday and today, I’m still the only eunuch I’ve ever met!
Eunuchorn 
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