My introduction
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DonFL (imported)
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My introduction
I wish to introduce myself to the community here but I feel that an intro without my story would be insufficient; I wouldnt be able to do it properly. So if the board does not object, I would like to post my experience in a narrative form.
Re: My introduction
DonFL (imported) wrote: Mon Jul 02, 2007 11:21 pm I wish to introduce myself to the community here but I feel that an intro without my story would be insufficient; I wouldnt be able to do it properly. So if the board does not object, I would like to post my experience in a narrative form.
Feel free to present in most any way you like.
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DonFL (imported)
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Re: My introduction
thank you..
Part 1
My story began early like many I have read on this board, began with a childhood injury to a most sensitive spot. I was 8 years old and fishing at the stock pond. I was starting to rain so I made my way home.. Now, the property the stock pond was on was surrounded by a metal rail fence with bob-wire closing the stock panels so goats couldn’t get out, and the gate is several thousand yards out of the way for a direct walk to my home, a very long walk for an eight year old, so I made a habit of climbing over the fence, it had steel rails so I couldn’t hurt it… But that day it sure could hurt me! The rain had made it rather slick, and before I started to climb over it I leaned my fishing pole on it, and half way over I picked up my rod to move it to the other side, like I had done hundreds of times before. That day was different, however. The rain had made the steel slick and when my balance shifted, I slipped. Down I went, steel rail between my legs, and I blacked out.
During this the man I called grandpa, who wasn’t really but took the roll in my life due to the absence of my real one, saw what happened. He came and got, he told me I was hanging by my jeans, caught on the bob-wire lining the fence. He carried me to my house, and told my mom what happened. I was in pretty bad pain, and my mom, being a nurse, imminently checked me out. I started crying when I saw the blood, it hadn’t been visible though my jeans, but I had several puncture wounds to my sack, and both my balls were squishy, my sack was deep purple. I started to get weak legged moan in pain, it was starting to hit me and I hit the floor. She grabbed something from her coat and drew it into a syringe, and she spread my legs and injected it into each side of my sack. Almost imminently I went numb and passed out from the shock of the events.
I woke in the hospital, my mom next to me, talking to the doctor, the one she worked for; she didn’t trust any other doctor but him. I didn’t quite understand what was said at the time, but later replaying the event in my mind later in life, I understood what was said.
The following is paraphrased though the filter of my memory:
He said that my injury was very severe and but it is questionable if I wouldnt loose my testes, the puncture wounds were the thing he was worried about most. Normally, with such an event he would just wait and see what happened, but with the punctures he was worried about infection if they turned necrotic. My mom said that she had a historectomery last year and I was her only male son, she wanted to try to save my ability have children. He said they can wait and see what happens, it is possible my testes will reform up and be marginally functional, but the risk of infection was severe, I would have to be on IV antibiotics for a few weeks. After a few days in the hospital, she took me home to care for me. I was kept on pain killers for a time that I do not recall much of, but evenly I recall my mom sitting next to me.. My head was clearing and she had removed the catheter from my arm, and the IV. She asked me how I felt, and I said ok. She said she had given them a shot to make them not hurt and asked if it hurt and had worn off. I reached down and felt them, I couldn’t feel them at all, but their shape was funny, kind of spongy and all over he place, not like the marbles before. I told her so. She said good, im very glad its still working.. Told me how much she loved me and that she couldn’t stand to see me in pain. After a few more days I was allowed to play again.
end of part one, im editing part 2 down, its too long.
Part 1
My story began early like many I have read on this board, began with a childhood injury to a most sensitive spot. I was 8 years old and fishing at the stock pond. I was starting to rain so I made my way home.. Now, the property the stock pond was on was surrounded by a metal rail fence with bob-wire closing the stock panels so goats couldn’t get out, and the gate is several thousand yards out of the way for a direct walk to my home, a very long walk for an eight year old, so I made a habit of climbing over the fence, it had steel rails so I couldn’t hurt it… But that day it sure could hurt me! The rain had made it rather slick, and before I started to climb over it I leaned my fishing pole on it, and half way over I picked up my rod to move it to the other side, like I had done hundreds of times before. That day was different, however. The rain had made the steel slick and when my balance shifted, I slipped. Down I went, steel rail between my legs, and I blacked out.
During this the man I called grandpa, who wasn’t really but took the roll in my life due to the absence of my real one, saw what happened. He came and got, he told me I was hanging by my jeans, caught on the bob-wire lining the fence. He carried me to my house, and told my mom what happened. I was in pretty bad pain, and my mom, being a nurse, imminently checked me out. I started crying when I saw the blood, it hadn’t been visible though my jeans, but I had several puncture wounds to my sack, and both my balls were squishy, my sack was deep purple. I started to get weak legged moan in pain, it was starting to hit me and I hit the floor. She grabbed something from her coat and drew it into a syringe, and she spread my legs and injected it into each side of my sack. Almost imminently I went numb and passed out from the shock of the events.
I woke in the hospital, my mom next to me, talking to the doctor, the one she worked for; she didn’t trust any other doctor but him. I didn’t quite understand what was said at the time, but later replaying the event in my mind later in life, I understood what was said.
The following is paraphrased though the filter of my memory:
He said that my injury was very severe and but it is questionable if I wouldnt loose my testes, the puncture wounds were the thing he was worried about most. Normally, with such an event he would just wait and see what happened, but with the punctures he was worried about infection if they turned necrotic. My mom said that she had a historectomery last year and I was her only male son, she wanted to try to save my ability have children. He said they can wait and see what happens, it is possible my testes will reform up and be marginally functional, but the risk of infection was severe, I would have to be on IV antibiotics for a few weeks. After a few days in the hospital, she took me home to care for me. I was kept on pain killers for a time that I do not recall much of, but evenly I recall my mom sitting next to me.. My head was clearing and she had removed the catheter from my arm, and the IV. She asked me how I felt, and I said ok. She said she had given them a shot to make them not hurt and asked if it hurt and had worn off. I reached down and felt them, I couldn’t feel them at all, but their shape was funny, kind of spongy and all over he place, not like the marbles before. I told her so. She said good, im very glad its still working.. Told me how much she loved me and that she couldn’t stand to see me in pain. After a few more days I was allowed to play again.
end of part one, im editing part 2 down, its too long.
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DonFL (imported)
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Re: My introduction
Fast forward 6 years.
I had healed over time, my right side had formed back up, but my left side had formed a hard area with a spongy mass filling my right side of my sack. As the numbing wore off, the pain returned, slowly enough I didnt realize it at first.
When I was around fourteen years old, my hormones started to kick in harder and my testes started growing. When I was about halfway though my 14th year, the pain in my left side increased to an unbearable level. I couldnt even go to school; I was in so much pain, I could barely walk. My mom took me to a special doctor, one who specialized in male parts, an urologist. He said the nerves had grown around my testicle incorrectly and as they tried to mature, the right one was sending pain to my brain. He would have to perform a quick procedure, it wont hurt, he said. He pinched my left side and squeezed the cord connecting my right testicle, I almost passed out, my vision turned white, then red. He then gave me a shot which burned intensely, right into the cord it seemed. I was slightly woozy for a minute but after that passed I noticed the pain was gone. He told me to tell my mom imminently if the pain returned, and he can fix it again. It wore off but not really wanting another shot in my balls I pretty much learned to live with it. In retrospect that was silly as the pain was much greater than the procedure.
Another side effect from my injury I had started to have was that the scar tissue around my testes was effecting my testosterone levels. It was explained to me that he (another doctor, an endocrinologist) thinks the scared tissue was extremely sensitive to the hormones that stimulate them to produce testosterone, prompting them to produce more than I needed. I was operating at a level of about 1350 in the morning and 1250 in the evening. Not knowing what exactly was causing this, I was given a CT scan then a MRI when they couldnt find anything on it. The only theory was it was the scar tissue. Since this wasnt a dangerously high level I was instructed to exercise and to come back for checkups every six months. I wasnt given any details by what he meant by to exercise, a mistake I rue to this day, I just ran around the block a few times a week and thought that was adequate.
Fast forward another a year.
My first hit there was something happening was when I was wearing a tight shirt and went into a store a friend was working in one weekend, and his boss said hey don, look like your putting on a little weight. I didnt realize it at the time, but that was the 1st time I recall the change in my body image. If I had known what was wrong I would have started lifting weights and anything else I could do to avoid my current predicament, but hindsight is 20/20. I was highly aggressive, and prone to severe mood swings. I withdrew from school and my friends, just going through the motions. I began to hate myself, and the only solace I found was reading. I read anything and everything I could get my hands on, from my mothers old medical textbooks, textbooks, technical & computer books, and a few thousand sci-fi books. I was in my own world. My grades dropped like a rock, as even though I knew the course work, I never did it. My tests were always As but my homework 0s killed me. Eventually I quit, and read all day and learned to master computers, a skill that would eventually save me.
end of part 2. part 3 is coming along, again ill have to edit it down.
I had healed over time, my right side had formed back up, but my left side had formed a hard area with a spongy mass filling my right side of my sack. As the numbing wore off, the pain returned, slowly enough I didnt realize it at first.
When I was around fourteen years old, my hormones started to kick in harder and my testes started growing. When I was about halfway though my 14th year, the pain in my left side increased to an unbearable level. I couldnt even go to school; I was in so much pain, I could barely walk. My mom took me to a special doctor, one who specialized in male parts, an urologist. He said the nerves had grown around my testicle incorrectly and as they tried to mature, the right one was sending pain to my brain. He would have to perform a quick procedure, it wont hurt, he said. He pinched my left side and squeezed the cord connecting my right testicle, I almost passed out, my vision turned white, then red. He then gave me a shot which burned intensely, right into the cord it seemed. I was slightly woozy for a minute but after that passed I noticed the pain was gone. He told me to tell my mom imminently if the pain returned, and he can fix it again. It wore off but not really wanting another shot in my balls I pretty much learned to live with it. In retrospect that was silly as the pain was much greater than the procedure.
Another side effect from my injury I had started to have was that the scar tissue around my testes was effecting my testosterone levels. It was explained to me that he (another doctor, an endocrinologist) thinks the scared tissue was extremely sensitive to the hormones that stimulate them to produce testosterone, prompting them to produce more than I needed. I was operating at a level of about 1350 in the morning and 1250 in the evening. Not knowing what exactly was causing this, I was given a CT scan then a MRI when they couldnt find anything on it. The only theory was it was the scar tissue. Since this wasnt a dangerously high level I was instructed to exercise and to come back for checkups every six months. I wasnt given any details by what he meant by to exercise, a mistake I rue to this day, I just ran around the block a few times a week and thought that was adequate.
Fast forward another a year.
My first hit there was something happening was when I was wearing a tight shirt and went into a store a friend was working in one weekend, and his boss said hey don, look like your putting on a little weight. I didnt realize it at the time, but that was the 1st time I recall the change in my body image. If I had known what was wrong I would have started lifting weights and anything else I could do to avoid my current predicament, but hindsight is 20/20. I was highly aggressive, and prone to severe mood swings. I withdrew from school and my friends, just going through the motions. I began to hate myself, and the only solace I found was reading. I read anything and everything I could get my hands on, from my mothers old medical textbooks, textbooks, technical & computer books, and a few thousand sci-fi books. I was in my own world. My grades dropped like a rock, as even though I knew the course work, I never did it. My tests were always As but my homework 0s killed me. Eventually I quit, and read all day and learned to master computers, a skill that would eventually save me.
end of part 2. part 3 is coming along, again ill have to edit it down.
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DonFL (imported)
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Re: My introduction
the amenity of this board net is very freeing, I have figured somethings out in my life writing this narrative that I didn't realize before. It may be a boring story but i think you guys for giving me a place to bare all...
The next installment, heavily edited, please forgive me if I messed up the structure.
At the same time this was going on, my mother’s life fell apart. She was hurt on the job, went into severe depression. She changed from a caring mother to just a person I lived with. We had to get food from the church & food bank as her work comp check barely covered our rent, and she was doing things to cover our bills that I won’t mention here. She gained weight too as our diet was very poor, and we just didn’t care at that point. My sister & mother were in their own worlds, and I was in my own. Anytime our worlds met, chaos and violence resulted.
I basically withdrew from life till I was 17. I had fixed a few computers for people and knew about them than most people, I also spent my time salvaging discarded electronics and making things, I was in my own world. I became a master of self pleasure thinking of new ways to get off, but it was strange, my interest in it went in cycles. When I was interested, it was the only thing I thought about, and I was doing it five or six times a day. Then it would taper and I wouldn’t even think about it for weeks. And it would start all over again. I didn’t think much of it, I thought it was normal. My sister cycled on a monthly basis, I thought it was just the guy’s version of cycle. I was never really attracted to women or men, I was pretty much asexual except for the self pleasure, and that was entirely about me.
I my moms SSI for me was about to run out as I was almost of age, so just after my 17 birthday I made a resume and acquired my mom and sister some cell phones so they could act for reference checks. With that I was hired onto a company to support a pharmacy application’s operating system and database, it was one of the largest databases in the world at the time. I had health insurance again and could go see a doctor. I did, and I told him my history.
With my history the first thing he did was run blood tests, and my metabolic panel was all over the place. The most striking thing was that my testosterone & dehydrotestosterone levels were extremely low, almost at castrate levels. He imminently sent me to an endocrinologist, who ran his own blood tests. Odd, they were in a normal range. A few days later he wanted another test to confirm, and this time they tested “inhumanly high” (edit, i later found out I eas above 3000ng/dl). I asked if I was body building, I laughed, I was 250 pounds and hardly the type. I was asked if I was injecting myself with testosterone for some reason, and I said no, and I reminded him of my medical history. It turns out he never read it. Not impressed, I said screw it and left. I got a message from him asking to come back, that my metabolic panel was in dangerous areas and he needed to figure out how to help me. I felt fine, so I blew it off. Another one of my great mistakes, it will come back to haunt me.
After that I dove into my job, and my emotional state started to stabilize. My sister had started college and my mom was back at work, things were getting better. But then my self attention started to turn darker, I started a destructive streak. I started banding my balls with rubber bands and several other activities...
One of the functions of my job was I had to do research for doctors and pharmacists who needed PDR or journal information, normally a dedicated rep would do it, but I started volunteering for the night shift and due to the reduced staff, that become a faucet of my job. I learned a lot as I spent the majority of my time reading the database, it was full of interesting procedures and I wanted to learn as much as possible. I also started resenting my maleness, as I learned I came to believe it was responsible for much of my physical and emotional problems. I started doing temp nerve blocks on my parts using OTC liquid benzocaine, that has a bad side effect that I won’t mention here as I don’t want to give anyone bad ideas. I also did several other things that I may post about some other time.
My sister finished her AS degree and I started to think about my future, and my past, and felt unfulfilled. I bought a GED book and worked through it, after a few weeks I took the test and passed in the 99% bracket. I started having dreams; I was in a classroom, back in high school, and getting annoyed. The teacher was teaching the same thing over and over and I lost patience. Then I said, im sorry, I don’t know why im here, I have a GED, I really don’t have to be here, and left. As I thought about that dream, I realized that I needed closure of my education, that wont move past it until I finish it. So I enrolled at the county college, easily passing the entrance exam, and attended after work. I earned my AA in 2 years. I transferred to the university and started science focused curriculum, I wanted to go into medicine. After the first semester, I wanted to explore my options, and I went to go talk with an advisor. I was basically told even with my perfect grade point average, I would never be accepted into a medical school due to my GED, but I shouldn’t have any problem entering their nursing program at the state university. I didn’t want to be a nurse, that’s how my mom got hurt, what took her from me in sprit. She was never the same loving person she was when I was a child. I asked about the pharmaceutical chemistry program, and he said I had the grades but it is a hard program. I was wanting a challenge; work became very boring to me as I had learned everything I could there. My mom and sister had both finally got good jobs, and I was no longer the only serous bread earner in our home. We made a deal that I should quit work and attend school full time, and they would support me, as I had supported them. I loved my classes and through this time my self destructive bent took breather, I threw away most of the stuff I used for it and tried to not think about it.
Then things went wrong again.
to be contiued.
The next installment, heavily edited, please forgive me if I messed up the structure.
At the same time this was going on, my mother’s life fell apart. She was hurt on the job, went into severe depression. She changed from a caring mother to just a person I lived with. We had to get food from the church & food bank as her work comp check barely covered our rent, and she was doing things to cover our bills that I won’t mention here. She gained weight too as our diet was very poor, and we just didn’t care at that point. My sister & mother were in their own worlds, and I was in my own. Anytime our worlds met, chaos and violence resulted.
I basically withdrew from life till I was 17. I had fixed a few computers for people and knew about them than most people, I also spent my time salvaging discarded electronics and making things, I was in my own world. I became a master of self pleasure thinking of new ways to get off, but it was strange, my interest in it went in cycles. When I was interested, it was the only thing I thought about, and I was doing it five or six times a day. Then it would taper and I wouldn’t even think about it for weeks. And it would start all over again. I didn’t think much of it, I thought it was normal. My sister cycled on a monthly basis, I thought it was just the guy’s version of cycle. I was never really attracted to women or men, I was pretty much asexual except for the self pleasure, and that was entirely about me.
I my moms SSI for me was about to run out as I was almost of age, so just after my 17 birthday I made a resume and acquired my mom and sister some cell phones so they could act for reference checks. With that I was hired onto a company to support a pharmacy application’s operating system and database, it was one of the largest databases in the world at the time. I had health insurance again and could go see a doctor. I did, and I told him my history.
With my history the first thing he did was run blood tests, and my metabolic panel was all over the place. The most striking thing was that my testosterone & dehydrotestosterone levels were extremely low, almost at castrate levels. He imminently sent me to an endocrinologist, who ran his own blood tests. Odd, they were in a normal range. A few days later he wanted another test to confirm, and this time they tested “inhumanly high” (edit, i later found out I eas above 3000ng/dl). I asked if I was body building, I laughed, I was 250 pounds and hardly the type. I was asked if I was injecting myself with testosterone for some reason, and I said no, and I reminded him of my medical history. It turns out he never read it. Not impressed, I said screw it and left. I got a message from him asking to come back, that my metabolic panel was in dangerous areas and he needed to figure out how to help me. I felt fine, so I blew it off. Another one of my great mistakes, it will come back to haunt me.
After that I dove into my job, and my emotional state started to stabilize. My sister had started college and my mom was back at work, things were getting better. But then my self attention started to turn darker, I started a destructive streak. I started banding my balls with rubber bands and several other activities...
One of the functions of my job was I had to do research for doctors and pharmacists who needed PDR or journal information, normally a dedicated rep would do it, but I started volunteering for the night shift and due to the reduced staff, that become a faucet of my job. I learned a lot as I spent the majority of my time reading the database, it was full of interesting procedures and I wanted to learn as much as possible. I also started resenting my maleness, as I learned I came to believe it was responsible for much of my physical and emotional problems. I started doing temp nerve blocks on my parts using OTC liquid benzocaine, that has a bad side effect that I won’t mention here as I don’t want to give anyone bad ideas. I also did several other things that I may post about some other time.
My sister finished her AS degree and I started to think about my future, and my past, and felt unfulfilled. I bought a GED book and worked through it, after a few weeks I took the test and passed in the 99% bracket. I started having dreams; I was in a classroom, back in high school, and getting annoyed. The teacher was teaching the same thing over and over and I lost patience. Then I said, im sorry, I don’t know why im here, I have a GED, I really don’t have to be here, and left. As I thought about that dream, I realized that I needed closure of my education, that wont move past it until I finish it. So I enrolled at the county college, easily passing the entrance exam, and attended after work. I earned my AA in 2 years. I transferred to the university and started science focused curriculum, I wanted to go into medicine. After the first semester, I wanted to explore my options, and I went to go talk with an advisor. I was basically told even with my perfect grade point average, I would never be accepted into a medical school due to my GED, but I shouldn’t have any problem entering their nursing program at the state university. I didn’t want to be a nurse, that’s how my mom got hurt, what took her from me in sprit. She was never the same loving person she was when I was a child. I asked about the pharmaceutical chemistry program, and he said I had the grades but it is a hard program. I was wanting a challenge; work became very boring to me as I had learned everything I could there. My mom and sister had both finally got good jobs, and I was no longer the only serous bread earner in our home. We made a deal that I should quit work and attend school full time, and they would support me, as I had supported them. I loved my classes and through this time my self destructive bent took breather, I threw away most of the stuff I used for it and tried to not think about it.
Then things went wrong again.
to be contiued.
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The Lurker (imported)
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tugon (imported)
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Re: My introduction
Thank you for sharing your life with us. I can relate to some of your feelings and I know how important it is to have a safe place to share. The EA is a very supportive site.
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Kangan (imported)
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DonFL (imported)
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Re: My introduction
the continuation...
It was the middle of the last semester before I was to petition for my bachelors degree, and I started getting massive headaches. I had always had weekly sinus headaches but this was different, I couldn’t see these were so bad. Luckily I had bought the university health insurance and I saw a doctor. He believed they were migraines brought from hormonal imbalance due to my history but wanted a ct scan to make sure. The CT scan didn’t pick up anything so I was given heavy pain killers and nothing else. A few weeks later I got a bad ear infection, and I could barely see out of my right eye, I went to see an ENT doctor. He wanted a MRI as he thought he saw something on the CT scan films. I got approved for the MRI and had it done, and he called me and asked me to come in as soon as possible. I went to his clinic and we met in his privet office.
He had the MRI films on the light panel on his wall, and I as soon as I walked in the room my eyes were drawn to it. I knew enough about the body to know there shouldn’t be a large mass above the eye; the sinus cavity should be empty, like the one on opposite one. I asked imminently if that was mine, and he said yes. I looked closer at it and he explained the details. He showed me the line that was my squished sinus, and the mass that had grown around it. He showed me how the mass is growing down my sinus and has blocked the tubes to my ears, causing the infection. Then he said don’t panic, but it’s a type of tumor. Most likely it isn’t cancerous. My mind reeled on that word. That is a word you never want to hear a doctor tell you, if you haven’t experienced it, there is no way I can describe it.
He then explained to me that they need to excise it as it was blocking my sinus system and after that they will slice it into wafers and examine it, and see if its benign or not. I was scheduled for a surgery in 2 weeks. That was a very dark 2 weeks for me, I didn’t attend classes, and I had sunk into depression. I regressed into a period of self destruction again. I made some drugs that have euphoric effects, and spent most of the time trashed. On top of that I was on a T low cycle and it wouldn’t work, so that outlet was not open to me. The surgery came and I got very sick afterwards, the drugs I had made immunosuppressed me and I caught a bad variant of the flu in the hospital. I was given the news that the status of the tumor was dysphasic, low grade, it had properties of both benign and malignancy. My doctor gave me a letter to take to the admissions office to drop my classes without penalty, I had been out for too long, and I left the university. I had paid for insurance for the rest of that year and into the summer, until the next student loan disbursement, so I was relative safe there, but the uncertainty of it was always in my mind.
I spent a few months around the house, letting my body take control of me, the mood swings had returned, the aggression was uncontrolled, and I was going though fits of hyper sexuality. In one of these times I was again hating my testes, and I tried to cut them off.
I made some lidocaine solution, setup a mirror and numbed them, but luckily I didn’t do it properly. The sack had no feeling but everything inside did. As soon as I started to cut the inner sack, I felt like I was kicked in them. My vision fogged and I almost lost it. I grabbed my suture kit and sewed it back shut. I like pain but that was too much. I looked up what I did wrong and realized I tried to infiltrate the area above the testes, and I had needed to isolate the cords and nail them. The hole I made was healing nicely, but I couldn’t get it out of my mind. I setup again a few weeks later, and numbed them again. I tested it by putting a needle into my bad side, it was completely numb. I could remove them and it I would be free. I wiped my scrotum with iodine and picked up my scalpel, all of a sudden my hand started to shake. The more I tried to steady my hand the worse it got. I couldn’t do it.
--
next part comming soon.
It was the middle of the last semester before I was to petition for my bachelors degree, and I started getting massive headaches. I had always had weekly sinus headaches but this was different, I couldn’t see these were so bad. Luckily I had bought the university health insurance and I saw a doctor. He believed they were migraines brought from hormonal imbalance due to my history but wanted a ct scan to make sure. The CT scan didn’t pick up anything so I was given heavy pain killers and nothing else. A few weeks later I got a bad ear infection, and I could barely see out of my right eye, I went to see an ENT doctor. He wanted a MRI as he thought he saw something on the CT scan films. I got approved for the MRI and had it done, and he called me and asked me to come in as soon as possible. I went to his clinic and we met in his privet office.
He had the MRI films on the light panel on his wall, and I as soon as I walked in the room my eyes were drawn to it. I knew enough about the body to know there shouldn’t be a large mass above the eye; the sinus cavity should be empty, like the one on opposite one. I asked imminently if that was mine, and he said yes. I looked closer at it and he explained the details. He showed me the line that was my squished sinus, and the mass that had grown around it. He showed me how the mass is growing down my sinus and has blocked the tubes to my ears, causing the infection. Then he said don’t panic, but it’s a type of tumor. Most likely it isn’t cancerous. My mind reeled on that word. That is a word you never want to hear a doctor tell you, if you haven’t experienced it, there is no way I can describe it.
He then explained to me that they need to excise it as it was blocking my sinus system and after that they will slice it into wafers and examine it, and see if its benign or not. I was scheduled for a surgery in 2 weeks. That was a very dark 2 weeks for me, I didn’t attend classes, and I had sunk into depression. I regressed into a period of self destruction again. I made some drugs that have euphoric effects, and spent most of the time trashed. On top of that I was on a T low cycle and it wouldn’t work, so that outlet was not open to me. The surgery came and I got very sick afterwards, the drugs I had made immunosuppressed me and I caught a bad variant of the flu in the hospital. I was given the news that the status of the tumor was dysphasic, low grade, it had properties of both benign and malignancy. My doctor gave me a letter to take to the admissions office to drop my classes without penalty, I had been out for too long, and I left the university. I had paid for insurance for the rest of that year and into the summer, until the next student loan disbursement, so I was relative safe there, but the uncertainty of it was always in my mind.
I spent a few months around the house, letting my body take control of me, the mood swings had returned, the aggression was uncontrolled, and I was going though fits of hyper sexuality. In one of these times I was again hating my testes, and I tried to cut them off.
I made some lidocaine solution, setup a mirror and numbed them, but luckily I didn’t do it properly. The sack had no feeling but everything inside did. As soon as I started to cut the inner sack, I felt like I was kicked in them. My vision fogged and I almost lost it. I grabbed my suture kit and sewed it back shut. I like pain but that was too much. I looked up what I did wrong and realized I tried to infiltrate the area above the testes, and I had needed to isolate the cords and nail them. The hole I made was healing nicely, but I couldn’t get it out of my mind. I setup again a few weeks later, and numbed them again. I tested it by putting a needle into my bad side, it was completely numb. I could remove them and it I would be free. I wiped my scrotum with iodine and picked up my scalpel, all of a sudden my hand started to shake. The more I tried to steady my hand the worse it got. I couldn’t do it.
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next part comming soon.
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DonFL (imported)
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Re: My introduction
The conclusion...?
My mother had come over to my apartment for a few weeks. She was doing some of my laundry when she saw a sheet I had bagged and was intending to throw it away, it was bloody. She looked in my dresser and found my surgical box, with all my tools and drugs I had made. I got home later that day and she confronted me. She asked if I was performing medicine without a license. I said no, and I explained to her my emotional condition. I explained to her my pain, and the animosity I had to my testicles. She got on the phone and called a friend of hers, Teresa, a psychiatrist with a specialist degree in human sexually, and she came over to talk to me.
I explained everything that had happened to me to Teresa, and she understood. She gave me a prescription for an anti-depressant and then took a box out of her purse. She said if I wanted, she could give me an injection that would diminish the T in my system and smooth out the highs and lows, as they had made me bi-polar. It would take a few weeks to have an effect and if I wanted to quit it, it would wear off in about a month. I agreed, after all, what’s the worst that would happen? I had already tried to castrate my self twice. I took the shot, and she made me an appointment to come see her in 2 days in her office. She took my tool chest with my consent, she was afraid I would hurt myself.
I went to go see her, and over time we worked things out. I felt calmer and less chaotic on the medicines, so she gave me my prescription for Depo Provera and taught me how to properly self administer. The antidepressants were starting to have a bad side effect, I was feeling like a zombie. She took me off them, and I found my stability remained with just the Provera. My insurance soon ran out and I couldn’t afford to see her any more, but as a friend of my mom she has kept in contact with me with a bi-weekly phone call and kept me supplied with Depo-Provera prescriptions, as long as I got a heptic & metabolic panel with a GP and faxed them to her. That arrangement has been kept up to this day. The only interruptions I had with my therapy when there was some controversy with depo provera, and my local pharmacies stopped carrying it. Luckily I found out that hospitals always carry it and I obtained it from them for a while.
Now I moved to Florida a several years ago with a stable life I started thinking about my self identity. I had become a computer tech again and was progressing im my job, I am now a special projects “go to” guy. I have been exercising and loosing weight, I wont mention my peek weight but I’ve lost a significant amount of it and am still a big person. I don’t really have an identity as a man, I never learned to be all that macho and all that, and being a woman does not feel right. I like being a strong person yet I like to share my emotions. I tend to feel like im stuck in the middle, and that is something I have yet to work out.
Last December Teresa died, and ive yet to find a new doctor who can understand these things. I’ve had doctors flat out tell my I must be gay, but that is wrong, I am not really attracted to people based on sex, but rather on the emotional connection I have with them. I’ve had urologists suggest that my teste pain is in my head, or unfixable, which I know is not true. I got tired of trying and now I just self administer a slow release lidocaine I have devised, to keep the nerve asleep most of the time. I have obtained my depo from Inhousepharmacy and I am now freshly back on it, while my emotional state settled down during the years of relief it has brought me, I don’t like feeling like I want to hump everyone in sight like a horny dog…. Which is why im here, I wish to continue to explore my self with reduced but still functional drive, which I control but it does not control me.
The rest of the story has yet to write itself, but will do so with time...
My mother had come over to my apartment for a few weeks. She was doing some of my laundry when she saw a sheet I had bagged and was intending to throw it away, it was bloody. She looked in my dresser and found my surgical box, with all my tools and drugs I had made. I got home later that day and she confronted me. She asked if I was performing medicine without a license. I said no, and I explained to her my emotional condition. I explained to her my pain, and the animosity I had to my testicles. She got on the phone and called a friend of hers, Teresa, a psychiatrist with a specialist degree in human sexually, and she came over to talk to me.
I explained everything that had happened to me to Teresa, and she understood. She gave me a prescription for an anti-depressant and then took a box out of her purse. She said if I wanted, she could give me an injection that would diminish the T in my system and smooth out the highs and lows, as they had made me bi-polar. It would take a few weeks to have an effect and if I wanted to quit it, it would wear off in about a month. I agreed, after all, what’s the worst that would happen? I had already tried to castrate my self twice. I took the shot, and she made me an appointment to come see her in 2 days in her office. She took my tool chest with my consent, she was afraid I would hurt myself.
I went to go see her, and over time we worked things out. I felt calmer and less chaotic on the medicines, so she gave me my prescription for Depo Provera and taught me how to properly self administer. The antidepressants were starting to have a bad side effect, I was feeling like a zombie. She took me off them, and I found my stability remained with just the Provera. My insurance soon ran out and I couldn’t afford to see her any more, but as a friend of my mom she has kept in contact with me with a bi-weekly phone call and kept me supplied with Depo-Provera prescriptions, as long as I got a heptic & metabolic panel with a GP and faxed them to her. That arrangement has been kept up to this day. The only interruptions I had with my therapy when there was some controversy with depo provera, and my local pharmacies stopped carrying it. Luckily I found out that hospitals always carry it and I obtained it from them for a while.
Now I moved to Florida a several years ago with a stable life I started thinking about my self identity. I had become a computer tech again and was progressing im my job, I am now a special projects “go to” guy. I have been exercising and loosing weight, I wont mention my peek weight but I’ve lost a significant amount of it and am still a big person. I don’t really have an identity as a man, I never learned to be all that macho and all that, and being a woman does not feel right. I like being a strong person yet I like to share my emotions. I tend to feel like im stuck in the middle, and that is something I have yet to work out.
Last December Teresa died, and ive yet to find a new doctor who can understand these things. I’ve had doctors flat out tell my I must be gay, but that is wrong, I am not really attracted to people based on sex, but rather on the emotional connection I have with them. I’ve had urologists suggest that my teste pain is in my head, or unfixable, which I know is not true. I got tired of trying and now I just self administer a slow release lidocaine I have devised, to keep the nerve asleep most of the time. I have obtained my depo from Inhousepharmacy and I am now freshly back on it, while my emotional state settled down during the years of relief it has brought me, I don’t like feeling like I want to hump everyone in sight like a horny dog…. Which is why im here, I wish to continue to explore my self with reduced but still functional drive, which I control but it does not control me.
The rest of the story has yet to write itself, but will do so with time...