Ass Blogging Monday: Ass Health

As of this morning, my ass has a clean bill-of-health. The doctor who performed surgery on me a few months ago said I probably wouldn't need to come back for a good 13 or 14... years.

That's a nice span of time, as far as I'm concerned. I'm not looking forward to having a colonoscopy ever again, but if I have to do it at least I have enough time to forget just how unpleasant it was. That way, it will all be fresh and new and exciting again.

So I'm cool again. Mostly. Still occassional soreness. As I said in an earlier post you really don't appreciate the little things, like not having persistent rectal pain, until you lose it. So what happened, you ask? And what were the ramifications? (Note that the part after the cut is less sexy and more TMI-like.)

I had an anal fissue. Most likely, I got it because my diet is crap, and I used to get constipated occassionally. Now, I'll be taking Metamucil daily for the rest of my life. If I get another fissure, more surgery could mean a loss of sphincter control. And while I have minimal fashion sense, I'm pretty sure I won't look very good in an adult diaper.

So this thing had been bothering me for well over a year. For the longest time, I thought it was just 'roids, because I sit on my ass for a living (I'm a software engineer, and I also do a lot of open-source projects in my spare time) and that happens. But it kept getting progressively worse, and started bleeding more and more. On at least one occassion, it seemed like I'd lost at least a good half-cup or more of blood. Best of all, every time I took a dump, it felt like I was trying to pass a jewel-encrusted howler monkey. So I finally broke down and went to an ass-doctor. (They have a nicer name for themselves, but "ass" is much easier to type.)

Ass-doctor explained everything to me, and even had me try a regimen for a few weeks that might have promoted the healing without the surgery. He rocks, and if you need an ass-doctor in Silicon Valley I'll whole-heartedly recommend him. The regimen didn't work. He didn't actually think it would, but he wanted to rule it out before resorting to surgery. Alas, surgery was my destiny.

First step was a colonoscopy. This was, as it happens, the first time I'd been under anaesthesia since having my tonsils taken out at age 4 (which, as it happens, I still remember 33 years later). As an insomniac, I found the thought of knowing I am going to be asleep within the next three seconds to be kind of novel. Until I started coming to about five minutes earlier than planned, and got to experience the last few yanks and twists of the 'scope. That's a memory that'll be sticking around for a while.

Next was an upper-gastrointestinal tract test. The less said about that, the better. Large quantities of chalky-white barium solution. I was shitting heavy cream for a solid day.

Then the surgery. As I've mentioned before, I grossly under-estimated the time it would take to recover. I was on Darvocet, and even that barely made a dent in the pain. But I'm better, now, and I'm pretty-much pain-free.

For me, the ass has long been a source of pleasure. I've personally manipulated it, I've used a variety of dildos, vibrators, other small smooth items that I could wrap in a condom, even a banana once or twice. I haven't been fucked by another man, nor have I been fucked by a woman with a strap-on. One really hot girl I knew in Long Beach managed to get three fingers in me, but that's the closest I've come (and I think this was also around the time the fissure had formed). As I wrote about the really fantastic time I had with that one escort, a good rimming drives me wild, and I'll happily scrub myself extra-clean if I think that's on the menu for the evening.

So it's safe to say that I'm happy to have my ass back. Take care of your ass! It will always be there to prop you up!

Dausa