Sunday, April 9, 2017
So, a quick recap. I developed a nasty pain in my prostate during orgasm. My doc diagnosed me with chronic prostatitis and prescribed the antibiotic doxycycline, expecting my infection to clear up within two weeks. That two weeks turned into two months on doxycycline before he switched me to ciprofloxacin to finish the job. Folks, I have to say that ciprofloxacin did a serious number on my gastrointestinal tract. Lots of churning, lots of gas, multiple daily bouts of squirty poops of the most vile stench imaginable. And this is with probiotic supplements and eating my weight in yogurt daily. For a month I suffered this way, until, in the final week, that nasty, stabbing pain in my prostate during what should be the happiest of happy times went away. Hooray! I once again enjoyed pain-free orgasms! For almost a month. Yes, sometime around week four, post-ciprofloxacin, the prostate pain returned. There are few things as depressing as knowing you're in for 1) pain during orgasm and 2) more nasty antibiotics. Because of the stubborn nature of this infection, my doc referred me to a urologist, henceforth known as Dr. Jellyfinger. He was disturbingly blase about my condition. But after some discussion and uncomfortable poking and prodding, gave me a prescription for ciprofloxacin. Yes, another month on that gut-destroying toxin. And guess what? A month's treatment didn't knock it out, so I'm currently on a two-week extension. If that doesn't cure it, we're considering shoving napalm up my ass to burn the whole thing out. There's one interesting angle to all this--I am hyper-aware of my prostate these days. When I orgasm, I'm focused on my prostate. The first two, three, four contractions are fine, but once we get to, say, number five, that's when the pain starts manifesting. And it does so in a tight, fiery crescent along the right half of my prostate. Is that weird? I know exactly where this bacterial infection has taken root, and could point it out on a life-size model of my reproductive system, if such a thing existed. I'd happily trade that hard-earned knowledge for a return to the days of pain-free sex, however. How the hell does bacteria get up in my prostate in the first place? I's not like I've been shoving anything up my urethra...
Sunday, December 18, 2016
Remember last time when my doctor expected the doxycycline to knock out my infection in maybe a week? Turns out he was off the mark by a little. I ended up taking the doxycycline for two months. And guess what? Still not cured. Those antibiotics got me most of the way there, but that's a massive amount to pump my system full without reaching endgame. Here's the thing--my prostate pain has been significantly reduced in severity and duration, but not eliminated. When I orgasm, the prostate goes into a series of intense contractions, which propel the ejaculation. Most of the time I wouldn't pay attention to the individual contractions, because hey, the overall effect feels pretty good. But when the pain is linked with those contractions, you fixate on it pretty intensely. The first three or four contractions, which are the strongest and most orgasmic, have been pain-free for more than a month. When that goes off, I'm thinking, "Maybe I'm finally clear!" But then around contraction five, or six, or maybe even seven, with the orgasm tailing off and ejaculation ejaculated, a little jab will hit me in the waning throes and I wince and curse because I'm still not well. "Chronic prostatitis" is the official diagnosis, and my doc is stumped. My blood work is normal and there are no physical signs of cancer. No blood in my urine and no pain beyond the orgasm. In fact, of the various potential conditions I may have, I present the symptoms for none of them beyond the pain. The only real possibility beyond a very persistent bacterial infection is an abscess on my prostate. He doesn't think that's likely because my pain would be greater. In any event, I'm now on ciprofloxacin to try and finish the job the doxycycline couldn't, and boy, is the new stuff rough on my digestive system. Even taking probiotic supplements hasn't helped a tremendous amount. If this stuff doesn't clear me up by the end of the month, I get referred to a urologist and have ultrasound in my future. Joy. The most frustrating part of all of this is checking to see how my prostate is responding to the treatment. With Legs, there's a tremendous amount of incoming stimulation accompanying my orgasms, and it's easy to get distracted and miss signs of pain now that it's much diminished. Which means I have to go solo to focus on my prostate. Alas, between the antibiotic-induced digestive problems and the libido-suppression effects of the bupropion, it's become increasingly difficult for me to A) get hard and B) stay hard long enough to jack off to completion. If that's not a first world problem, I don't know what is. I'm ready to be done with this whole mess.
Thursday, November 3, 2016
Okay, when last we spoke I was musing about my balls taking on a modest ache if I went went 4-5 days without orgasm. This was odd, sure, especially since I don't get many spontaneous erections because of the bupropion. Well, the point I want to focus on here was my offhand comment that once the ache set in, orgasm felt "like a kick in the balls." Imagine my concern when Legs had her way with me one evening, and without any preceding ache, orgasm felt like a kick in the balls. Ouch. Not a hard kick, mind you. I didn't double-over in agony like you see in those wacky comedies when someone takes a football to the groin. But then again, even a modest tap to the testicles is best avoided. The next day, without any desire or Legs' nudity to distract me, I took my cock in hand and induced orgasm. Hey, I thought as the wave crested, this feels pretty good... then ejaculation happened and ruined my joy. Holy hell, each spasm of my prostate was like being stabbed with an ice pick. Without Legs to distract me, it was much worse. I tried it a couple more times over the next day or so, with similar results. Folks, ejaculation ain't supposed to hurt. Fortunately, there was no blood in my semen, but even so, the internet informed me that there were several possibilities for my symptoms, almost all of them resulting in certain death. Reluctantly, I made an appointment with Dr. Jellyfinger (hint: "Digital prostate exam" has nothing to do with computers). Turns out my prostate is "boggy" with a pretty massive bacterial infection taking up the entire right side. I got a nice prescription for doxycycline and instructions to avoid the sun and eat plenty of yogurt to mitigate the damage it'll do to my GI tract. With luck, he said, I'd be back to normal in a week and we'd discontinue any additional dosage. Yeah, well, three weeks later and orgasm still brings pain. Not much, mind you, just a little twinge at the end, right about the point where I start thinking that maybe I'm finally free of the unwanted ouch. Just a little jab, right there to tell me, "Nope, you're not quite done yet." This means, of course, the infection was severe and well-established, meaning I'll have to get an additional prescription of that damn doxycycline to make sure the stubborn infection is completely cleared from my prostate and anywhere else it may be hiding. The moral of this story is, of course, that coming isn't supposed to hurt. Ejaculation's supposed to be a pleasant thing. Sex--solo or with a partner--should have a happy ending unmarred by caveats from the nether regions. So any guy experiencing not-right symptoms should check with a doctor. On the bright side, my PSA levels are low, so I've got no sign of prostate cancer. That, I'll take.
Saturday, September 3, 2016
When I was a teenager and first started dating, I got the most unbelievably painful cases of blue balls ever. Not that I'd ever heard that term or really understood all guys experienced this to one degree or another. If I was lucky enough for a girl to agree to spend time with me, hell, I'd get rock hard hours before the date in anticipation and stand at attention throughout, just in case she wanted to go out for more than just dinner and a movie. Of course, 95% of the time things never progressed farther than a kiss. I was painfully self-conscious, and desperate not to make a mistake that might offend her. Which meant that I never made any moves, and rarely had second dates. I was awkward and boring. But OH! how I hurt afterwards--barely able to walk. Jacking off afterward for relief was almost as bad, because ejaculation felt like a kick in the balls. After high school, I got much better at reading women's signals (thank goodness!) and discomfort quickly became a non-issue. I bring this up because until this past year, I'd not thought about blue balls since then (where the hell did that name come from anyway? I'm pretty darn sure I've never witnessed any color change). I'd also assumed the pain was a result of prolonged erections--one of the reasons why priapism is such a burden to those who suffer from that condition. But I've come to realized blue balls can result from prolonged periods of no erections as well. My recent bout of depressed libido has resulted in Legs and myself going two weeks at a stretch without any kind of sex. That's partly because of her busy schedule but mostly my lack of desire. After about five days, I've noticed a deep ache that's mild at first, but grows progressively stronger each day I ignore it. All this time, I'll not have even a hint of an erection--not even the ubiquitous "morning wood." Eventually it'll hurt enough that I have to deal with it, either solo or with Legs. And damn if ejaculation doesn't feel like a kick in the balls. Fortunately, my libido is showing signs of emerging from its recent dormancy, so this particular problem shouldn't be an issue for the near future. But still, how fucked up is it that lack of libido can lead to blue balls? I tell you, getting old sucks in all kinds of ways I never fathomed.
Tuesday, August 9, 2016
The Wolf and the Owl via Lady Cheeky.)
Saturday, April 16, 2016
Thursday, September 17, 2015
It's hard to believe it's been nine months since I last checked in, and that this is my first post in all of 2015. That's profoundly frustrating, especially since I expected to post every few days back when I first set up this blog. In the intervening months, my libido has become significantly more obscura. I'm not sure why, but the bupropion side effects have turned it up to eleven. I can't pinpoint when this exactly happened, but I strongly suspect the advent of summer is a contributing factor. For a number of reasons I won't go into here, my Friday morning fucks with Legs went on hold. Mentally, I always looked forward to them but physically my body was blase until my semi-flaccid cock is rubbing against her labia. I grows steadily firmer until I can force it in, and then it's off to the races. Lustful desire is absolutely not a problem once I'm inside her, but otherwise, meh. I believe those regular Fridays stimulated my body chemistry in such a way that prevented my libido from flat lining entirely. When those Friday rendezvous ended, so did the last vestiges of my desire. June through August, we only averaged 2-3 times a month, and went close to five weeks once before Legs forced me down on the couch one afternoon, pulled down my pants and rode me hard and fast. Sadly, I didn't come, and went limp immediately following her orgasm. I can't blame it all on summer, however. Looking at my calendar (yes, I've been keeping track since going on bupropion) I see that we only did it on Fridays through the month of May. So something was up even then. It's not like I don't think about sex. I do think about it, maybe not as much as I did two years ago, but it's still one of my favorite subjects. But only rarely do I get excited by my own daydreams, and erections simply don't happen on their own. I doesn't help much that Legs' own libido has always been an order of magnitude below mine. I've always teased her that sexually, she's got a body like a Ferrari that she only ever drives around the block a couple times a month. Rarely does she venture onto the open road and just turn it loose. But at least she still likes those trips around the block, otherwise we wouldn't even have had those few times this summer that we did. The thing is, sex just doesn't seem worth the effort anymore. Today was one of the rare days where I didn't have to go in to work, and a couple of times throughout the day, as she took a break from her work, I thought "This would be a good time to rip off her clothes." Goodness knows she wouldn't have objected. But that would've involved me stopping what I was doing, getting up and going across the house, then actually undressing her... it just seemed like too much work. Crazy, right? So I've spoken with my physician, and we've cut my bupropion prescription by a third. That's been a month now, and I haven't felt any kind of return of the dysphoria that was the cause of all this in the first place. But I haven't felt any kind of return of my libido, either. In a few months, if I maintain stability with the current reduced dosage, we'll reduce it again. Eventually, if all goes well, I can get off it entirely. Or my libido returns, whichever comes first. Oh, and our Friday Funtime is back. Maybe having Legs' magic pussy jump-starting my cock every Friday will be the boost I need to carry me into the following week. I certainly hope so, because I sincerely miss having desire.