For weeks now I've been stalling, avoiding writing about the latest in my sex life. Or my non-sex life. It's hard to write about it. It's just so embarrassing.
No it's not!
I'm working my way through more than 250 "not dead yet" posts, preparing to print the lot, for Deb. (Yes, Deb does want to read this blog. Just not while I'm still alive.) "Preparing to print" involves reading every single post. Not something I ever intended to do. But I do need to correct some obvious typos. To add a few words here and there, where the original post makes no sense. To try to standardise the tense. (I try to write all posts in the present tense.) So I read all my past posts.
It turns out that I have already covered every topic that I think is so embarrassing! Every topic, though not the actual points that I now need to document. So here we go, with no embarrassment. For me...
I'll include headings. (Just a single line starting with "...") So children -- and adults with delicate sensibilities -- know which sections to skip.
... More poo
As I get older, I fart more. As I get over cancer drugs I fart even more -- and the farts include (apparently) more solid material. How do I know this?
My pajama pants go distinctly brown. I know that I am not pooing my pants. (I've done that, I know the signs.) My farts contain enough solid matter to stain my pants.
Is this just old age? I don't think so... Even at my worst -- before cancer, after eating lots of figs or oats -- I did not stain. Not this much, anyway :-)
Yukk :-(
... Sex and fantasy
Old age definitely slows down my sex life. Pre cancer I had almost reached the stage where I would regularly get as much sex as I could handle -- only because I could handle so little. Worst case was that I would start... and lose interest half-way through.
Part of this is my mind. It works too hard... I would start to think, What if I "lose interest"? This thought would distract me... and I would lose interest. Not a problem in my youth. Or rather, only a problem when I was worried and my mind would forget what it was meant to be doing, start to think worrying thoughts... and I would lose interest -- physical interest -- in the current activity. Sigh...
(Despite all my problems, still a very satisfying sex life, thanks Deb :-)
Now back to the blog theme: me with cancer.
For several months -- I have absolutely no ability for sex. Some interest but only as, Yes, that's an attractive woman. None of the, Phwaugh! that's an attractive woman!! To put it bluntly, I can recognise that there is sex appeal but the body completely fails to respond.
And then... gradually, over the last two months... some physical response returns.
First sign: the "piss hard-on". Which is not a description that I have heard or used before. It was part of the monologue of a stand-up comedian -- a woman. The woman seemed to believe that constant repetition made this expression funny. Oh well.
For me, actually waking up with a "piss hard-on" is quite exciting! It's one of the things which was once standard, then just a memory. Now, an occasional sign -- more and more often -- that my body is regaining the ability to respond! Respond to sexual interest, that is, in case I'm being too subtle.
Then comes the body's response to an attractive woman. Not yet at the Phwaugh! level. But definitely at the Ooooo:-) level... the mind is definitely interested, the body will occasionally add its own, admittedly weak, signs of interest. *Some* response is far more satisfying than none at all :-)
Oh, and it's also a good sign that I am pleased to respond! For months I noticed the lack of response but did not really mind. No interest in sex and no interest in being interested in sex.
Then there is fantasy.
I have a technique for getting to sleep. It is useful when my mind is overactive, when some thought -- or worry -- is churning in my mind, stopping me relaxing, keeping me from sleep. What I do is, I run through a sexual fantasy.
Some people recommend thinking of a single word, over and over: "Elephant, elephant, elephant..." That leaves no room for other -- sleep-disturbing -- thoughts. I prefer a sexual fantasy :-) Not that it ever gets very far, I tend to repeat, repeat, repeat... until I fall asleep.
My ability to focus on this sleep-supporting distraction varies. For months I just cannot do it. (Partly because I fall asleep before I need to think about it.) Now the ability is returning. Accompanied -- with a successful fantasy -- by a suitable bodily response. (See how polite I am? A "suitable bodily response." Luckily *I* know what I mean, and this blog is for me :-)
All of this is -- to me -- reassuring. First the piss hard-on. Then the response to an attractive woman. Then the ability to maintain and respond to a sexual fantasy. Plus the very occasional meeting with Rosie Palm and her five friendly daughters...
No, I'm still not ready for real sex. It's still not an all-day, every-day urge. Even Rosie has problems...
It is, however, a sign that I am regaining some sexual interest. A sign that my body is, slowly, recovering. That my increasing ability to run... well, jog... is part of an overall improvement.
Sure, I'm still lined up for death. I just want to feel as good as possible while I'm waiting. There are definite... small but positive... signs. All good!
And that -- I think -- is all the embarrassing stuff that I need to cover. For today. Not so embarrassing after all, is it?
Well, yes, it *is* embarrassing. Phew! Glad that it's done. Now I can stop thinking about it. Stop thinking about documenting it, that is...
Dr Nick Lethbridge / Consulting Dexitroboper
... Agamedes Consulting / Problems ? Solved
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"I know so little that it astonishes me how many people know even less." … per Ginger Meggs
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Not embarrassing at all. Well written. Cheers Col
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