A rambling tale about how I got from then to now. :) I may add a FAQ for giggles.

[Thorbear (imported)]

I lost all function after a motorcycle accident many years ago. Basically the bike stopped and I did not and I more or less destroyed them via sheer brute force as the entire weight of my body slammed me crotch first into the fuel tank of the bike. I slid upwards, at speed, over the large locking fuel cap which is what I believe did the majority of the damage, and then into the upper steering forks.

I remember laying there as people ran up to check on me. Helmet kept my thinking bits nice and safe. Leather coat saved me from road rash. I felt like a horse spent a while kicking me in the gut though. It was strange because it didn't hurt much at all right away and I guess that should have been a clue. I had no idea how badly I was injured.. I honestly thought I just got the wind knocked out of me. I did eventually get up. We picked my poor bike up. (1998 Honda Shadow 600. Ported and tuned... in gold with black trim).

We discovered that when I had the rear tire replaced, they had not tightened the bolts that hold the tire in place well enough and it had shifted forward to it's furthest position upon heavy acceleration. When I eased off the throttle I think the chain went slack and then jumped off of the cogs, getting wedged between the wheel and the rear forks on the frame. This made the rear wheel lock up and with that nice soft brand new tire on there.. and me not expecting it what so ever, it just stopped. So feeling this odd sort of.. it was like being winded and nauseous at the same time, I somehow managed to get everything re-aligned and back as it is suppose to be and rode home. This was when I had my first thought that perhaps something was amiss. When I lifted my leg to slid off of the bike, my pants felt tight in the crotch and as I lowered my foot back to the ground I got this sort of electric shock sensation from down there. I became a bit concerned and made my way inside, went to the bathroom, and found the jewels in the coin purse were suffering from some inflation. But they didn't really hurt so I figured it was some mild bruising, took some ibuprophen, and went about my business. I know.. it's obvious, right? Looking back all I can do is shake my head. If I hit them hard enough to bruise them that badly, why didn't I feel it so much worse? My guess is I didn't think about that because I didn't want to. My brain just wouldn't go in that direction. If I don't think about it, it's not really happening.

Over the next two days there was more swelling until two average size testes looked about like two rather decent lemons.. lots of bruising. Sweet mercy the bruising. About the third day is when I woke up in the morning drenched in sweat. It was like pulses of ouchie were shooting from between my legs, up into my guts. I spun my legs out of bed and my feet hit the floor, I leaned forward to get up and my center of gravity shifted in such a way as to press tender things down into the bed under me, and I vividly remember the sudden spike of agony and my vision getting blurry as I screamed. Apparently it was a good scream as I woke my room mate from a dead sleep and he came barreling into my bedroom just in time to see me on my hands and knees vomiting into my waste basket. He asked if I was ok, I went to stand up and as I wasn't wearing anything at all he saw... ahem.. me, and basically told me that my choices were to get in the car so he could take me to the doctor, or he was calling an ambulance.

Took about an hour to use the bathroom.. I couldn't even touch myself to aim because the jostling was more than I could tolerate. We go to my PCP here in my tiny down, she reaches over with a gloved hand and ever so gently touches the side... and I fall backwards on the exam table I was sitting on and nearly rolled off the side. The exam ended instantly with her basically informing me that I would be going to the hospital and that things are not ok.

She went to call an ambulance this time and for whatever reason, as I'm struggling to put on a pair of light shorts without making myself pass out, I talk her into just letting my room mate drive me there himself.

We drive to the city (about 20 or 45 minutes) and as we pull up to the ER there's an orderly and two nurses waiting with a wheel chair. Doc called ahead and told them I was coming and what car to watch for. I stood up to shuffle into the wheel chair. The first nurse shoves a clip board into my hand and orders me to sign it. The moment I do, I got stuck in the hip by the second nurse and given a shot that I was pretty sure hardened into a golf ball inside the muscle in my hip.

The instant my butt hit wheelchair seat that orderly took off like a frightened rabbit. I swear he had to have trained for triathlons or something. He crossed that entire hospital in what felt like no time at all. The specialist doctor was a very nice guy, I don't remember his name, but he had a bunch of students with him because apparently injuries like this are actually pretty rare. Not testicle injuries, but ones that are left untreated this long. He asked permission for them to stay so they could get a unique opportunity to learn, and I told them I didn't mind. He asked a bunch of questions about the accident, why I didn't come in sooner, any other symptoms. A lot of questions about various body fluids and if they were coming out of places they shouldn't be. You get the idea.

... and then he explained the test was basically an ultrasound like a pregnant lady would get but it would be to check for circulation to see if I had enough blood flow. I learned I was given Toradol because my primary told them they wouldn't even be able to touch me without it but I was still in a good bit of discomfort. I had to strip down and get up on the bed, which was exciting.. and then they put some goo stuff on which I think was refrigerated to several hundred degrees below zero and ran the test. They have this little wand thing and they move it to the left and go "Ohhh." and he points at the screen and moves it to the right and says a bunch of big long words that I didn't even remotely understand at the time, and then shuts the machine off and walks over, pulled a blanket over me and grabbed my shoulder, giving me a shake and a big giant smile. He said quite cheerfully that I shouldn't worry or stress, I would be fine, and he wanted to go get the opinion of a colleague of his and would be back soon.

He shooed the herd of interns out the door and I spent the next month waiting in that bed and trying to find something to watch on tv. I know it wasn't actually a month, but it felt like a month. I ended up just laying there trying not to break down as more time passed and I got a worse and worse feeling. Roomie was trying to keep my spirits up and keep me distracted, but I think he was starting to realize this might not be something one can distract from. Eventually though the doctor does come in with a second doctor who smiles and introduces herself as a surgeon. I start to panic and I think they see that and guy doctor puts on the charm and calms me back down. Relax. I just wanted her to look at the images from the test. I look at her, she explains how doctors are book smart but surgeons are better with physical structures, I accept this answer and they spend a good while muttering back and forth to each other in what I swear was mostly Latin.

I'm picking out odd words here and there as I try to overhear their whispers but I am an old Texas farm boy and it didn't even sound like the same language I know. I do hear things like surgical option and entropy. I knew what those meant and I was starting to get worried again.

So this is the point where I have a real bad feeling in the pit of my stomach. He thanks her for her input, she leaves, and then he turns to me and explains that there is very little, almost no, blood circulation through my balls. That the swelling meant serious damage had been done and he said if I wanted them to, they could try to operate with a local to restore blood flow, but it had risks. Mostly of blood clots but if enough damage was done, restoring blood flow wouldn't change anything and chances are I would end up with a much more serious problem because of the time that passed since the injury (Little more than 72 hours).

He was very kind and sympathetic. He sat beside me as I stared at the wall in shock while he talked to me about what was going on. This went back and forth for a little while and I asked how blood flow could even be blocked if it was inside me and yeah.. crush the cord hard enough, blah blah, I had accidently succeeded in doing what usually doesn't work on most people and I had crushed the cords that connect my bits to me and his guess was it was either the fuel cap or the forks that did it. He said I was supremely lucky I didn't rupture one of them because apparently you can loose a seriously dangerous amount of blood very quickly.

I asked what my options were and he mentioned removing them but said he would prefer to wait. There was still some blood flow, though very little, and he hoped if we gave it some time for the swelling to go down the flow would increase and some of the damage would heal. He said worst case if they didn't recover they can still be removed. Of course I was worried because I imagined them rotting away inside me and he explained atrophy and said they would be safe but just wouldn't function. I learned I only needed one of them and they hoped both or at least one would start to function again. He was going to discharge me but he wanted me to call in once a day to talk to him and then come back in 7 days at the very most. Sooner if anything changed for the worst or I got a fever, noticed swelling, fluid building up.. you get the idea. I left that evening with a bottle of pain medication and was told that shot they gave me would last about 12 hours so I should get food, water, my prescription, some ice packs, and find somewhere comfortable the at least the next few days.

True to his words, the shot starts wearing off that night. I guess because the pain set in so slowly after the accident I never really realized just how bad it was, but by midnight I remember sitting there angry at the fact that not only did it hurt when I would inhale, but sneezing was one of the worst biological functions ever evolved. My room mate was amazing.. he really came through for me. To this day I see him like a brother. I refused to ask for any help and he kept catching me trying to do things.. get a drink, make a grilled cheese.. get the Windex out from under the sink and set up the step ladder so I could get that smear off the kitchen window. Every time as soon as he figured out I wasn't where he left me, I was guided back to bed or to my chair and told not to move again. Eventually I gave up.

The next morning I called work to inform everyone. They knew about the accident, but not how serious it was. I was working for a family business at the time so dealing with work was a matter of calling my dad. The company was owned by him and his life long best friend who had opened it with pop after deciding he no longer wanted to be a registered nurse. They offered any help they could give, said if I need something to call or text, don't to it myself. Threatened me a few times.. they meant it. It's ok to ask for help. I glared at the rooomie because I knew he called my dad before I could to tell him what was going on. I had been beaten and I had to accept it. I was given an ice pack, some snacks, a small cooler of iced down bottled water and my medicine and told if I got out of that chair for anything other than to use the bathroom or flee the house because of fire, flood, or natural disaster... he would play music I hated every day through supper time for the next month. I stayed in the chair.

The day after that things were extremely sensitive and tender, but the swelling started going down a lot and I wasn't in "active" pain any more. If I bumped things or moved, oww.. but if I was sitting still or walked gingerly I was pretty much ok. Called up the doc he says that's a good sign but don't get my hopes up too high. I chose to ignore him and got my hopes up anyhow. 7 days after the first ultrasound thingy I go for another and it shows no difference. Zero increase in blood flow but things are still healing. He isn't too worried about serious complications at this point but call back in a week. I can work if I feel up to it, but no lifting more than 10 pounds.

Fast forward another week. I can wear pants again, I can walk. Once in a while I move my leg wrong and my thigh bumps my nuggets ever so gently, causing a wave of pain, but I learn to cope. I call the doctor, he asks a bunch of odd questions about pain, warm to the touch, still have sensation, ect.. prognosis is to leave things as they are and things seem a little better. Call again next week or sooner if anything changes. Another week goes by and I've adapted to things a lot better at this point. During the weekly call I just don't want to deal with this any more and I tell him everything seems fine now, I don't need any more pain medication, thanks. He asked me to come in again for a couple tests and I politely decline as I felt fine. He argues with me, blood flow, blood work, this and that, atrophy.. but I'm not very far out of my teenage years and I survived crushing my parts in a motorcycle wreck, so I'm 15 feet tall and bulletproof.. and of course at that age I thought I knew everything there was to know.

It was another several months before I realized that I hadn't woken up "excited" in a while. I wasn't super worried but then I started drifting off to sleep in the passenger seat of the work truck as we drove between job sites. Then one day I get woke up as my trainee starts slapping me on the arm and shouting "That's you! That's you! You have all that!" and starts pointing at the radio while I look for something to bludgeon him with for bothering me. Then I hear the radio and it was one of those "Are you over 30? Do you have depression? Feel Lethargic? You might have low testosterone! Call this number..." radio advertisements you used to hear all the time. All the sudden it all came flooding back to me and I had this 'Aww crap' moment of self realization.

So I call the local clinic and set up an appointment. They are associated with the big learning hospital in the city so they have my records, and I go in the next day. Only my doctor isn't there. I'm greeted by a new doctor who introduces himself as.. we'll call him Dr. H. He says he doesn't mind having the test ran but he didn't think it was hormone related because I'm a big broad guy with a lot of facial hair and a fairly deep voice. So they do the blood draw and he tells me he'll call for me to come back in as soon as it shows back up.. which made me mad. Did you know they can't discuss test results over the phone here? It's against some stupid rule somewhere. So about three days later I get this call to come in.. and I do. They take me right to the back and he pulls the results up and says everything actually looks great so it must be depression take pills. I leave feeling reassured that I am physically fine. That my plumbs are working again and I actually feel a little joy for a while. I get the pills, it's 90 days worth. I'm told to call when it's getting low for a refill and let them know if I have any side effects.. but it would take up to 6 or 8 weeks for them to start working.

The first few weeks... nothing changed. I had a few days of upset stomach and some trouble sleeping but was told that was normal. I eventually finish the bottle and they refill it for another 90 days. Life goes on.. I think everything is fine... Everything sure seemed fine from my eyes. Eventually the second bottle starts to go dry and I call in.. refill denied. I have to go in to get it refilled. Now I'm irritated again. I go back to the clinic, they take me back, I sit there on paper for a while and then the doctor comes in.. and it's another new doctor. She introduces herself, we talk casually for a while and she looks at me and asks why I am on these SSRI's. I tell her the story while she looks through my medical records on the computer console on the wall and when I get to the part about having my hormone levels checked and everything being normal, she stops and suddenly turns to look at me with a face filled with rage. She.. was.. pissed. She points to the screen and has me come look.. there was the last bloodwork I had done from that clinic. Cholesterol, glucose, kidney function, liver enzyme, ammonia, and thyroid function. All normal. Not one mention of testosterone. He was SO sure my hormone levels were fine he ran about a half dozen tests I didn't even want instead of the one I did.

She grumbles for a while. Apparently this was a thing he was known for and that's why he was removed from this clinic and sent to one in an even smaller town an hour or so away. She apologizes for about an hour it seems like and then asks if I still want to run the test or if the pills were working. I tell her as far as I could tell the pills weren't even medicine. They did nothing what so ever. Another blood draw, she calls me in, tells me we're looking for between 300 and 600 and I'm at 17. I'm all like "So I DO have low testosterone!" and she goes 'No.. low would be 150. You have none. This might as well be zero.' And had my new hormone replacement therapy set up before I left the office. At first I was worried about people finding out I was on it.. so I had the rx sent to the city and would pick it up on one of my many trips a week for parts and supplies.. but then I found out the pharmacy wouldn't give me syringes without seeing the prescription. I could get them in the city, but that meant driving round the rest of the day with a giant box of needles in the truck which is a super terrible idea in Texas, by the way. Or I could pay 40 bucks every other week to get my shot at the clinic.

I ended up just sucking it up and showing my vial with the label on it to the pharmacist here in my town. Then there was a quick verification to make sure it was not counterfeit and that I wasn't just trying to get needles for drugs while I complained to his assistant about how much they charge me to get the injection at the clinic. She goes "You should just get it here, we just charge 8 dollars. 3 for the syringe and 5 to do the injection." So I started at her like a deer in the headlights for a while and... spent the next three years getting them there instead. It was great. Yeah, word got out my bits were misfiring, but honestly for being a rural town in Texas people were more curious than anything. Ladies always always asked how I felt, was I gaining weight, do I have to shave less and things like that. Guys.. once they get over the wincing and winging about how much that must have sucked they almost.. almost always ask about sex right away. The ladies would get there eventually but wow the difference in what they wanted to know first was amazing.

That's how I spent the next five or so years of my life from about 2009 until 2014. I had to do a blood test every 3 months.. so 4 a year. The first three years everything as perfect. Toward the end of year 4 I had one test that came back as a bit high at around 650. I asked and they weren't worried and I continued on. First test of year 5 came back perfect, right in the middle of the scale. Second was a tiny bit lower than my personal average but still in the normal. Third test came back at 1200. She has me skip the next injection, we retest on that day and it's around 200. I go back on the every other week rotation as normal. Final test of the year comes around and it's at 2000. I'm told not to take my next shot and to go to 1 every three weeks until further notice. I keep up this one every three week schedule for the rest of the year.. thing is that medicine doesn't really technically last three weeks. Yes, there's some still in you, but it's not enough so it was like being on this hormonal roller coaster on a three week cycle. I get increasingly annoyed because the levels swinging upwards randomly for the last couple months before that had also been somewhat miserable. I ask about a lower dose every other week, no that wouldn't work right for some reason. Ok can I get super low dose patch for that third week? No, don't want to do that, it'll make the tests come out funny. Finally I tell her ok and that I'll see her in three weeks and.. that was the last time I got a hormone shot.

I still have mine but they are quit small.. maybe like grapes, and hyper-sensitive to the point if I lean over something wrong or rub against something it just about leaves me in the fetal position. The last time it happened, I pulled my pants on too quickly. All it took was the gentle tap of the fabric to leave me gasping for air in the bathroom floor. I've been trying for several years to have them removed, but sadly it is an uphill battle for me. It isn't immediately life threatening, I'm not transgender, and while I am in daily discomfort and mild pain it is not beyond managing. I've asked several different urologists and get one of several answers. They either tell me I need to come in for an exam. I do. They tell me if I have sensation then they should still be fine, so it must be something else. Try loosing more weight, that might make them work better. Or I just get a down right out no... or told I need paperwork from other doctors which I can't afford or even know how to find. Eventually I lost hope and gave up. I haven't tried again in years.

Aside from having to be careful how I do things, I live a mostly pain free life. I usually get my hormone levels tested about once a year.. they always say the same thing... happy gelding. As for the lack of sex drive, I noticed very little to no difference in mine. When I went on the replacement hormones I thought it would amp things up and it simply did not. Then when I decided to stop taking them, I expected for things to fade out and loose interest. Truth is, I was never all that interested. As a teen, as an adult, before or after the accident, on or off of T... it simply never was a priority for me. I'm the only 'male' in the family who still has a full head of hair as well, which makes them all extremely jealous! I see lack of energy mentioned quite often, and I dealt with that early on pretty bad, along with some extreme... but not physically destructive... depression. That has all passed at this point. When I feel myself running out of energy now, I eat a small snack and move around. Sometimes I'll do aikido. The most impact against feeling sleepy though is to actually work my mind. I often find that 10 minutes spent playing one or two upbeat songs on my guitar can re-energize me better than coffee.

[magusuk89 (imported)]

Thanks for writing! -- Sorry to hear you went through that unpleasantness, and that you're still having issues with doctors, but your candidness and equanimity about it all are an inspiration.

[Valery_V (imported)]

Thank God you survived this accident!

I wouldn't worry too much about acquired dysfunction...

As far as I understand, doctors still believe that you still have a chance to fully recover.

[WheelyCurious]

WOW... I always heard rude remarks about the risks posed by protruding gas caps on bikes, especially the spiked ones that used to be popular w/ the brit-bike and chopper crowd, but you are the first person I've ever encountered that actually had that sort of injury...

Given the stuff I hear on the media about some of the issues w/ reproductive health in TX, I don't know what options will be available there, but in other states the transgender centers are the place to go, even if one is not trans.

The association for T-G medical folks, WPATH has a new version of their 'Standards of Care' manual that is about to be released as THE guide for the field. Due to among other things, a lot of work from some of the members here on EA, the new SOC 8 will have chapters in it that specifically deal with men seeking castration. I'm not an expert, but it sounds like you would easily fit within the guidelines for it. There might be some extra hoops to jump through, but it should certainly be possible.

WheelyCurious

[JessicaH (imported)]

Most doctors are not very competent in managing hrt and it sounds like yours are incompetent. T cipronate if injected in buttocks needs to be done every 7 days or it crashes and about 5 days in the thigh muscle. I’d suggest trying .4mg of 200mg/ml testosterone cipionate into your belly fat every 3 days. It will give you a very consistent level of T and the injections are far less painful. It would also be beneficial to do some weight training because that will increase the amount of T receptors which are needed to allow your cells to use the T so you get more benefit. Best of luck!

[Thorbear (imported)]

Oh I bet those would really cause problems. Oddly enough I've never heard anything bad about them here and always thought my injury was a bit of a unique case but if I think about it the thing would be difficult to avoid.

It seems to be a little better than it used to be. I only ever went to one specialist who basically refused to even acknowledge the word surgery when I asked about it. As I understand it... unless it's related to cancer or protected by a specific gender law somewhere, they won't consider it. I've had a few medical professionals over the years ask me how I am. I usually say that I am doing great other than the physical discomfort. They usually ask what I take for it, I tell them over the counter pain killers but I would just as soon get rid of them and my quality life would be so much better. I've personally never had a bad reaction from anyone but I don't usually bring it up. If I could get them removed without any hassle I'm not sure I would. I suppose it would be nice to finally be rid of the random pain as well as all of the risks that come with being atrophied. Most of the issues here are related to trans-gender and abortion.

Texas is such a big place that the culture where I am is extremely different from the area where these laws are made. I am thrilled to hear about the new SOC adding content specific to people in situations like this. It gives me so much hope for the new future! Also, thank all of you for the wonderful replies. This isn't a side of my life I usually speak so openly about. Not because of shame or fear, but because it can often greatly upset people and I don't like the thought of that. It's such a pleasure to interact and relate with others who understand and care to share this journey we are on.

I didn't know about the crashes in T, but I always did have my suspicious as the first week after a shot I would be zipping around and the second week I was always feeling more and more drag on my system. If I ever do decide to go back on HRT, I will certainly take your advice. My poor doctor.. please understand she is a general care physician in a town of about 4000 people. She's been so wonderfully supportive. She did send me to a specialist and I don't remember a whole lot about the encounter other than that is where I learned how they measure the size of testes which was an eye opener for sure. I do remember it being a very unpleasant experience and a lot of why I chose to stop HRT. As for weight training, I do enjoy that sort of thing. I also enjoy yoga quite a bit. I've not injured my back one single time since I started doing yoga.

I had my hormone level tested a couple times a year for a while. Sometimes it would be up around 150ish, but usually lower than that and down at 17 to 20 a couple times. So I do still make some. The problem is the intermittent production. If I could get rid of that, I would be overjoyed. That and it seems like when people talk about testicular atrophy they say they get real hard and never mention sensitivity. If I pull my shorts on too quickly the impact of the fabric is sometimes enough to make me double over and leave me gasping for air. I haven't been lucky in finding much information on this level of sensitivity.

[Thorbear (imported)]

Initial assessment is severe gender dysphoria. Should know more after my next session. If you think you are suffering from this, please talk to someone. I've never felt anything that affected me like this does. Lost three family members in 7 days and then this hit me right out of nowhere. I got help, I am feeling and doing much better now. I am quite sure that if it was not for the information here on the forums and my friends and family supporting me, I would not be here. Thank you all! It may not seem like it, but even little stories and bits of information on what helps you or makes you stronger can save a life. An innocent life that has done nothing more wrong than being born in a body that their mind doesn't match. It's like being more homesick than you could ever possibly be.. all you can think about is how badly you want to get back to your home where you are safe and comfortable, and you don't know how to get there. Then you ask for directions and you find out there is no 'home' at all. The dread of never being happy, safe, or comfortable again sets in and it hurts.

Thank you all again, seriously. You are all amazing people!

[WheelyCurious]

Terribly sorry to hear about the family loss, probably not a lot we can do from a distance, but if you need to vent or there are other tings I can do, let us know.

In terms of the gender dysphoria label, it is probably a positive for you in terms of getting surgery - it seems to be the key diagnostic step under the WPATH rules, so hopefully that will be enough to get the psych approvals to take to the surgeons. BTW, I don't know if you've been lurking here, but if you haven't heard, the new SOC v8 that I mentioned earlier in the thread has been released (at last!) so there is now a definite path towards surgery. Typically they require a period of chemical castration as a trial, but given your record they should be able to skip that.

Glad our support has been helpful, and again speak up if there is anything we can do to help.

WheelyCurious