phalloplasty – Page 7 – Chinchilla Meat

Day 35.

First day of arm flexing exercises! I lost most of my range of motion in my left wrist after the phalloplasty, just due to how thick the resulting scar tissue ended up being. Which won’t happen to everyone, or even *most* folks, from what I understand– but be aware of this as one of the risks of using your forearm as a donor site! Lucky for me, I’m a righty.

I’m now taking hand therapy sessions twice a week to get that motion back. This is Day 1, and, uh… Baby steps, keep in mind. Baby steps.

Day 34.

Here’s how Spot’s underside has been chilling lately! Lots of scars knitting together by now, though as far as that bit of yellow skin under the urethra? Your guess is as good as mine. At least my surgeon wasn’t concerned.

Never let it be said I wouldn’t use my supper break time towards educating y’all. :3

For the Cute Anon: healing up is tough work, but sometimes Spot just likes to take a breather and feel pretty.

Day 32.

Would you look at that? Spot’s healing up its own namesake! Another chunk of scab flaked off today, with regular healthy skin underneath. There might not be a spot there on it much longer.

Don’t worry, though. Spot will always be Spot to me.

(As for the towel under my feet, that’s one of Spot’s quirks I’ve been dealing with… Every time I need to take a bowel movement, Spot starts peeing. I can’t stop it. Sometimes the amount it’s been able to store up, even when I’ve just pissed a few minutes ago, is a lot more than I anticipated, heh.)

gerbilfluff:

I was surprised tonight by this welcome-home / dick-quisition party / sausage fest (no, really, there was a bunch of sausage there to stuff in your mouth, if you so chose), including a dong crown made of glitter, pom-poms, and felt, a show-and-tell with Spot for any interested parties, more phallic-shaped sugar treats than you could shake a gigantic dong lollipop at, and dick puns. Lordy, the *dumptrucks* full of dick puns.

I was even given a rubber chicken, so my new arm wouldn’t be lonely!

Youguyyys. I have the best friends.~ [heart hands to you all, you know who you are]

From over on the main blog. ‘Cause sometimes you need to celebrate the little victories.

Day 30.

Fashion sleeves to the rescue! Now nobody will suspect a thing is amiss. Unless they notice the totally obvious stripe size change.

Sneaky chuckling.

(Gah. Hard to hold up a ruler and balance a dong with only one functional hand…)

In case anyone was wondering: 5 inches back before the swelling went down. 4.5 inches now.

My silicone prosthetic was only ever 3.5", so believe me, I am not complaining one bit. To me, this sucker’s HUGE.

Day 29.

Back in my bedroom in Minnesota. California would seem like a long dream, if I didn’t wake up with all these goodies intact.

See you in a bit. I’ve gotta change the gauze pads over my catheter hole, and then go hug my partner. A lot.

Missed Photo Op of the Day iiiis…

Pissing at an airport urinal that was labeled “Crane Plumbing.”

But my phone was dead, and I’ll never forgive it for that. You’ll all just have to imagine.

Ta-daaa! It’s out!

I got video footage I’m trying to upload right now, but like I say on that post, I was expecting something scary kept inside me, not this little munchkin. If deflated, which it was, it’s a mere straight line of tube.