You know, when I began this and started telling you my story, it was a lot harder than you think to know where to begin. Start at the beginning, people always tell you. Sure—but actually knowing where that is... well, that's another thing altogether!
But harder still is not just knowing where to start, but why…
A wise old lady once told me this: if something bothers you and the darkness threatens and frightens you, then write about it. Write it down in all its horribleness, and then burn it in a fire. Watch it go up in smoke and become nothing.
So I know why I'm starting, and I hope you'll stay with me to the end. As to where to start? Well, I'm going to start here—right in the middle! It's not the beginning, but then it's as much a beginning for me as anything in the things that affected me and those close to me during that time.
What things? Well for that, you'll have to keep reading.
I know, I know...I'm already not making any sense!
So let's just start at the place where I was just then, lying on a surgical couch wondering—just a little bit—if I really was doing the right thing!
The rest I leave to you...
* * *
Luke Summers watched it all with increasing fascination, or was it dread. He was almost forgetting to breathe as, around about him, things kicked into action. The room was filled with the urgency of medicine: the sounds of sterile packages being torn open and latex gloves snapping over hands.
It was cool in there. Above and behind him, he glanced back to see the air-vent which hummed, efficiently intent on spilling cold air right on top of him. He folded his arms protectively and glared at it. Everyone appreciated air-conditioning, especially on warm days like that one, but he was feeling uncomfortably chilly. In retrospect he was thankful he’d got to hang on to his tee. Everything else bar a pair of dark grey ankle socks was gone.
He frowned at the doctor and his assistant as they bustled around.
I’ll bet he hasn’t had to lie here with no clothes on!
He tried not to let it get to him as he lay back on the surgery couch, waiting as he was ignored and left to shiver on the surgeon’s table. But it wasn't just the cold that touched him; there was anticipation, and quite a bit of anxiety now, too!
All the comfortable sofa based discussions, and easy, exploratory chats were over. Gone too were the information leaflets and the websites, the options and the decisions. Past were the weeks—months, actually—of waiting. Tomorrow had become today, and he was out of time. With the two of them donning surgical gowns, it seemed all too immediate, and Luke almost regretted asking his mum to wait outside.
The nurse adjusted the strong medical light, focusing the beam directly onto him. She was pretty, had surprisingly small hands, and was uncomfortably young-looking in the eyes of a guy whose dick had been unavoidably put on show, lit up like Nelson's Tower at night!
Not that his shrunken dick looked anything like that, and for that Luke was relieved!
After applying some topical anesthetic around the base of the shaft in preparation for injections, the surgeon flexed his fingers in his surgical gloves and drew closer to take hold of Luke's dick.
Luke gritted his teeth and shuddered as the man attempted to ease the blunt instrument in an exploratory manner past the constricted tip, under his foreskin and around the sensitive head. Luke tried not to move, but the probing was quickly moving the dial on the scale from sensitive to lip gnawing!
The surgeon took no notice and seemed to be focused on the task in his hand. As the end of the blunt spatula began to disappear through the tip and was slid from side to side inside, he murmured, "I’m checking to see if there are any adhesions." As he continuing to dig around, Luke started to squirm and he bit back a squeak!
Adhesions? He had no idea what that meant and nobody explained as the flat, cold, chrome steel instrument scraped as it penetrated further under his foreskin.
BLOODY HELL! Now it really hurt!
Frankly, this was the reason he was here—he’d never in his whole life had anything under there. In fact, until recently, he didn’t even know that ‘under there’ even existed! Thankfully, the pretty assistant came to his rescue.
“Dad…” she said, catching his attention.
Dad? He struggled to get his head around that!
The doctor looked up. Thankfully he followed her eyes and either finally noticed Luke was squirming, or saw that his fingers were gripping the sides of the bed fiercely enough to tear the sheets! Gently he withdrew the unwelcome tool.
"Oh, I’m so sorry Luke." He offered an apology and sat back on his stool. “Let's just wait for a little numbing before I do any more of this shall we?"
Numbing sounded good!
Luke nodded, grateful for the reprieve those few minutes offered, but still looked apprehensively at the tray that the girl was preparing. From sterile wrappings, she extracted an assortment of sharp, pointy-looking tools, a syringe and needles. The realization that a woman—of the girl type—was going to be helping during the procedure, watching, and maybe even touching his genitals, became secondary. It was all the sharp stuff on the tray that was getting his attention!
To avoid dwelling on any of it, he looked away to explore the rest of his surroundings.
This compact surgical unit had been built into the center of the same complex where the doctor had his office. There were no windows…which made sense. Few would really want to lie out in the open and have the window cleaner stare in at their bits!
They’d put the back of the couch up a bit, so he could watch.
Damn right! He didn’t want to miss a thing.
From knees to navel, his groin was covered by some kind of green sterile towel, with a hole cut in the middle. Poking out of the center rested his wanger, shriveled by apprehension. It was rather like watching the repeats of the hospital soap, Casualty, that aired on the BBC channel they got on cable over here. Except he was the patient! His whole groin had been painted with some dark, yellowy-orange stuff, and the bright light made his penis glow like a fluorescent beacon, bobbing around in a sea of green.
The smell was off-putting and his nose flared at the strongly antiseptic aroma of the surroundings. In many ways, it reminded him of visits to the dentist, but glancing down, the comparison kind of ended right there. While they waited a few moments more for the topical spray to have some effect, the doctor explained something that Luke was just coming to realize for himself.
"One thing I need to prepare you for, Luke," he said, all businesslike again. "As you've never been able to retract your foreskin, it’s going to take some getting used to.”
Luje frowned. “You mean it’ll look different?”
Wasn’t that the whole point?
“Yes of course, but that’s not what I meant. It’s quite likely—and quite normal—that you’ll find it uncomfortably sensitive around the glans of your penis for some time after this procedure. Eventually it will settle down, so in the meantime don't worry about it. But don’t be surprised if, for a few weeks, you jump every time something rubs there."
Luke tried not to smirk and betray his secret thoughts. That was a laugh—it was usually HIM that did the rubbing!
He regretted it almost immediately as the niggling worry resurfaced: what if, in the middle of the whole thing, his dick took on an embarrassing mind of it own, and he threw a chub? Did that kind of thing ever happen in situations like this? Thankfully, not to him that day. With the cold room, the anxiety, and the onlookers, he seemed to be okay.
At least the upside of it was that, not counting his family, it was really only the doc and his assistant—his daughter—who knew he was there.
Of course, something horrific could still happen…like he could be standing in the queue with his friends at McDonalds the following day, and this same pretty young lady (with everyone listening in and laughing), could tap him on the shoulder and ask him how his penis was doing.
That had to be the stuff of nightmares!
No, what he was having done was personal, and he wasn’t planning on telling anyone else; at least not yet. He’d been careful to make sure none of his friends knew where he’d come today. Not even his closest friend, Ryan. It was better that way.
He looked across, apprehensive once more as the doctor reached into the tray the girl held out for him: the one carrying a syringe bearing that unpleasant looking needle. Holding it vertically he tapped it and expressed a short stream of fluid.
The reprieve was over. Luke wanted him to get on with it, but wasn't looking forward to this next bit. At all!
Shortly after that, and after the device had been placed in position and locked, the urologist took up a blade.
"OK, young man.” He studied Luke expectantly. “It’s the point of no return.” His warm, encouraging smile was in stark contrast to the razor-sharp scalpel he was holding. “Ready?”
Luke grinned at last, and nodded enthusiastically. It had been quite a journey for him to get to the table of a circumcision specialist in Atlanta. Once he started to cut, there would be no going back. Was he really ready?