Happy Nude Year?

 

 

 

 

 

 

Welcome to 2021. It's been a long time since I posted, largely because I really don't have anything new or remarkable to discuss...until now I guess.

 Two weeks ago I had surgery. I'm seeing a new urologist. I think my old one will be retiring soon,  though nobody's saying it overtly. Therefore, new blood. And the new guy is thorough and smart. He's the guy I wrote about last year who, on our first meeting, had me naked from nipples to ankles on his ultrasound table as he examined me from the kidneys to the groin.

A month ago I was in his office and the pinpoint of pain to the left of my penis had been bothering me for a while. On a scale of 1-10, it was averaging more sixes and sevens than threes and fours. And within a minute of having me drop trow and groping around he pressed down, right on the spot of pain.

"Here?"

"Exactly!"

He pressed a bit more and isolated it, suggesting it was either a cyst or scar tissue pressing on a nerve.

So we scheduled surgery. Which was done a week ago.

As I'm in pre-op he comes in again and pulls back the sheets as I'm talking to the anesthesiologist, and begins palpating around in search of the spot. Then he does the usual finger up the inguinal canal, a move any man will tell you isn't the most comfortable. And hit right on top of the spot. We both jumped, which startled even the anesthesiologist, who looked down at what the doctor was doing.

"There," the doctor confirmed...though really nobody had any question. He went back to feeling around and found the wire-like structure I've mentioned here before. It's not the source of the pain but it's close to it, and been the subject of conversation between me and my regular physical therapist.

Minutes later I was in the operating room, and the anesthesiologist told me she was going to put me out. I felt the fabric of the gown being pulled up and cold cream of some kind being applied to my groin, presumably to shave my pubes. Then I was out.

To me an instant later, but more than an hour on the clock I was revived by the nurse checking the bandages. According to her the doctor found that there was a blockage in the vas deferens - the tube that takes semen from the testicle to the merging point with the rest of male ejaculate - which caused the wirelike structure AND the eraser-sized blockage. Unbelievably, this had gone undiagnosed for more than a decade, despite my constant mention.

But that's not the surprising point of this experience.

I've long talked about my lack of modesty around medical personnel these days. And it's true. I just
don't give a damn who and how many see me naked. It's simply not a sexual situation.

But I've realized that it extends beyond that. I had a dream last night. One of a series that takes place in a very cool setting of underground grottos that - at least to my dreaming mind - comprise some sort of European spa, with locker rooms, showers, waterfalls, public pools, etc. All in an underground group of caves. Honestly, it's a place I'd love to visit.

The dream place is coed, and swimsuits seemed to be my mind's idea of appropriate in the public areas, while showers and the lockers - all open air into the cavern, are nude zones.

All normal, and to be expected in this sort of a facility. I've always thought it would be a great place to go, and obviously my mind thinks it exists somewhere with social norms attached.

But in last night's dream I was nude the entire time. And it was unremarkable and unremarked upon by

anyone else of the fictional friends and strangers in the dream. Nobody cared. I felt completely comfortable. Talking to people, friends, getting a massage, taking a shower and dipping into the pool, all felt completely appropriate with me naked, wandering around freely with not a care. And yes, everyone else was clothed. (I think.)

And I have to admit, it brought it home to me that I am not a nudist, or even a naturist. But I amcompletely comfortable being naked around other people. 

And this isn't unfounded in real life. I've mentioned spending much of the Summer completely naked out by the swimming pool, including lounging out after swimming to dry off. Yes, I jumped up and grabbed a towel the couple of times the pool or spa guys showed up early, but that was more for their benefit than mine.

With my physical therapist I am routinely nude from shortly after walking in to right before I leave. We've had full conversations with me undressed and him fully clothed, on any range of topics. And I'm completely comfortable, as I assume he is (I'd expect he would have mentioned it to me).

So here I sit, with bruises on my testicles and penis, realizing that as much as I'd have previously asserted comfort with nudity (heck, I posed naked dozens of times in college, and that was forty years ago...yikes!), I now accept that it really doesn't matter. My dick is my dick, and everyone I know has seen better examples of it than mine.

So why bother covering up? (Intentional flashing is something altogether different. That's sexually provocative and is an assault of some kind if unwanted.) Being naked around others is, to me, a rite of friendship. Seeing friends in non-sexual nudity ought to bring us closer together. It's a matter of comfort and composure, which is a bonding of sorts. Of course, in these COVID times I have yet to put my theory to practice...and not even sure if I'll get an opportunity once things have normalized. But it's how I'm feeling at the moment.

As always, your mileage may vary.