Day 7 of being stricture-free.

Who needs more dogshaming photos? Bring on the dickshaming!

Spot’s been a naughty one these past couple days. Even with a catheter in, this dong is so ready to be used again, I’ve had a full urine flow three times now, at random!

…Only once in an actual toilet.

The hotel housekeeping here’s starting to know me on a first-name basis, and I’m not sure how I feel about that.

Day 101.

Was put on painkillers to numb the pain problems I’ve been having while urinating lately. (Like, “not even realizing I’ve been drooling and crying until I’m done peeing” levels of pain.) As it’s iodine-based, this has turned my output bright neon orange. It doesn’t even show up in photos how bright orange this looks.

I fly to San Francisco tomorrow to see my surgeon Tuesday, who can give me some answers about this whole business. Wish me luck that it won’t take much to fix, yeah?

Day 89.

Siiigh. *Right* as I was about to step through the door to work, too. This is why I carry around at least three extra shield liners and a spare pair of boxers and pants at all times.

(NOTE: my issues with bladder control go *years* previous to the phalloplasty, so if you’re planning on having the surgery done, this shouldn’t be as much of a concern unless you ALSO have a history of bladder-holding weakness. If you’re like me, and would have occasional accidents before the surgery: that issue’s not gonna get any better after all the parts downstairs have been shuffled around.)

Day 25.

See Spot piss!

Piss, Spot, piss.

Good Spot.

Not gonna lie, this reformatting’s gonna take some getting used to. When I need to go now, I get phantom pangs where my urethra *used* to be. If I squat or sit in front of the bowl, the ache continues, but the new phallus takes over like a charm. If I stand, it’s an unfamiliar enough feeling that it doesn’t know what to do just yet.