Coming Unravelled

And there goes another!

Last night, just before bed, the first stitches fell out. Well, I gave them a gentle tug and they came away. I suppose when they’re ready they just pull off or fall off. I’m going to be doing some manscaping this morning; I’ll see if any others are ready to come off after I’ve cleared away some of the hair.

I had quite a reasonable night’s sleep: no hot flushes! Yay! A slight headache, boo! I’ve taken a migraine pill to ward it off.

When I checked out the scar and took a couple of photos, I could see that almost all the stitches from the butthole to the root of my cock have already disappeared! There are still several on my cock that don’t seem ready to go yet, so I’m not going to force them, although they are a little uncomfortable. I wonder if the sticky patches I used to protect the stitches actually helped with their removal? I also remember seeing little bits of black in the soap suds when I washed down there, I think that must have been stitches dissolving.

Oh! There goes another one! And another!

When cleaning down there, there was no spotting this morning. I am feeling good! I am wondering whether the spotting was actually where stitches had come away leaving a little hole.

… and then a hot flush strikes!

I showed my husband his the healing was going. He put his hand down there a little roughly, at least that’s how it felt! It’s not sore, but it remains sensitive – it was a surprising “ouch” moment.

Hormone Help

Last night my husband and I talked about testosterone and what I would like. I said that I felt that I’d like to stay on the low side because I felt that I was better able to connect emotionally with the lower hormone levels, but that I need them high enough to re-energise me, and to end the low T side effects, and regain my libido. I asked him to help me manage them and to look after me, to tell me when he thinks I might have a problem, and I promised to listen. At one point he said “you have a use for me now” in a way that suggested some resentment, which I was immediate in my admission that his comment irritated me because I felt that was inviting him and making myself dependent on him to look after me. He got it. It was a good talk.

Personality Changes

Today, when shopping, I did a most un-British thing! I told a queue jumper to get to the back of the queue! Very unlike the old me. I find the changes that have come over me this last year fascinating; my husband said that he was afraid that, after the operation, I would feel empowered to make other changes in my life (he was afraid that I would kick him to the kerb and go off in search of somebody else, that is not the case). A bit of assertiveness is one change that I can embrace.

I have felt more assertive and empowered than in my previous life. It was bloody-mindedness/strength-of-will that got me to the operating table, and I think that making such a massive change really has affected me in other ways.

You have to die to understand

This afternoon the husband and I had a talk about a few things. I started by trying to explain about something I’d read in “The Deep Psychology of BDSM and Kink” about death, particularly the idea of travelling to a strange land [the underworld] and returning to the land of the living changed and with new knowledge. I couldn’t quite frame what I entered to say, I think it’s a theme I want to come back to again after some more thought. It’s tied in some way to there being something a little mystical about eunuchs that I can’t quite put my finger on. Whilst the historical view of eunuchs hasn’t always been kind, in mythology there are a fair number of castrated dudes, and the process in mythology often involves an encounter with death/the underworld. I couldn’t make sense to him (or to myself); a saying of Spock’s came to mind: “it would be impossible to discuss the subject without a common frame of reference”, to which McCoy answered “you mean I’d have to die to discuss death with you?”. Perhaps only a fellow eunuch would be able to understand?

We also talked a little about the future of our sexual relationship. We have talked before I went to Mexico about opening the relationship up. We also talked about couples counselling. However, with my libido flatlined at the moment, it’s hard to have those conversations because my sexual urges and fantasies are all, at least in part, powered by testosterone. I suppose this is the fabled “eunuch calm”. My husband has installed Grindr on his phone, but hasn’t subscribed and hasn’t done anything except look. I trust him absolutely: lies are as poison to him – if something happens, I know that he will tell me.

And now I have one wee stitch that is too tight to pull out!