Hard Limit
While we may be in a FLR, Mrs. Lion’s authority does have limits. A big one is my decision whether or not to get the upcoming surgery. Unless I am sure I can get home from the hospital and make necessary visits for followup visits, I won’t do it. In almost every area of our lives, Mrs. Lion has authority and veto power. I’m very sure I will never be submissive enough to obey an irrevocable order that I feel compromises my survival.
Her last post was about my extreme concern over transportation. I drive a low, sports car. Mrs. Lion a one-ton pickup that is very high. Without some kind of assist, I can’t safely get in and/or out of either. That leaves us with a few options. We can see if a step of some sort will make entry to her truck viable. I can easily get out without the use of my right arm. We are hopeful a step of some sort will do the trick. If it doesn’t, then the only other option is for me to trade my sports car for (yuck) a small SUV that I can easily enter and exit. If that can’t happen, then I have to cancel the operation.
She’s right. I have been getting pretty agitated about the limits the loss of the use of my arm will impose on me. The reason I am so concerned is that once I get the surgery I can’t undo it. That means I will have to live with any limits I find for months. Most of those limits are what I would categorize as inconveniences. A few are more than I am willing to bear.
First among those is the inability to go to the doctor and physical therapy. Others include being unable to sleep because I don’t have the correct bed/chair, constant pain, inability to use the toilet, etc. We have been working hard to make sure I can work around my disability. I’m convinced the pain will be managed, so that is off the list as well. If I need assistance, Mrs. Lion will stay with me as long as necessary to help. Her employer is an asshole and won’t let her work from home. At this point we can afford it if she has to leave her job.
So, at this point, transportation is the hard limit for me. This weekend we will see what we will work out.
Bubble Wrap
Today is another day when there’s nothing to report. We went out to dinner, got home late, and didn’t even snuggle. We were both tired. And Lion had had a rough few hours worrying about the logistics of getting to and from surgery, and the post-op appointments. It seems that neither of our cars are suited for a wounded Lion. I think we’ll be fine. I think with a few adjustments, he can get in and out of at least one of our vehicles.
Lion is a planner. He needs to know the outcome of every situation before he starts. Our house is now, for the most part, set up for a three-legged Lion. I know we’ve missed some things. A few of them can be addressed before his surgery. Others will pop up later because we never thought of them. That’s just how it is. We’ll figure them out as we encounter them. There’s nothing else we can do.
There is one thing that stands out to me, though. When my parents needed help, they knew they needed it and were usually able to assist in some way. For example, if my mother needed help getting up from a chair, she needed your arm around her a certain way and as you lifted, she pushed. When someone else tried to help in a different way, it never went well.
I bring this up, not only because I have some idea of how to help people, but also because neither Lion nor I actually know what help he’ll need nor how to go about it. Between this unknown and fear, Lion has been in low-grade panic for a while. He’ll tell you he doesn’t panic, but it sure looks like he does. And I understand. I can’t imagine what he’s going through. I’ve never had surgery. I’ve only ever been in the hospital having my kids. The closest I’ve come is having my wisdom teeth yanked and having a breast biopsy. His surgery will be disruptive to his life and career. Everything is up in the air.
Last night, I was sitting on the fence between answering his questions as calmly as I could and yelling at him to put in his big boy panties. We’ve been over the which-vehicle-is-best argument before. We decided on my truck. No matter what answer I gave him last night, he shot it down. I know the underlying issue was fear so I did my best to offer options and suggestions. The bottom line was that there was nothing we could do about it at that exact point in time. We’ll practice getting him in and out of each vehicle and decide then. There is no need to cancel the surgery. If I have to wrap him in bubble wrap and throw him in the bed of the truck, we’ll get him home from surgery and back out to his post-op appointments.
I think that’s the difference between 1.0 and 2.0. Last night, 1.0 was calmly listening to Lion. Guess who had the bubble wrap idea. Yup.
Fade Away
I don’t know if Lion was particularly horny last night. I didn’t ask. I know he’s been missing intimacy and play, so I made sure we snuggled. And as we snuggled I tested the waters. He didn’t really show any signs of getting hard. But I decided I could give my balls a few swats to see what happened. Eureka!
Once I knew I was onto something, I decided maybe a visit from the Magic Wand would help the cause. I knew Lion wasn’t in much pain. The Tylenol was keeping the pain at bay for the moment. Lion loves the Magic Wand so he wasn’t complaining. Well, he did complain a little because I was still swatting my balls on and off. I’d get him a little ways along with the vibrator and then swat him. A little more vibrator. A few more swats.
I haven’t really been making him wait in the true sense of the word. It’s not like I tease him and he’s just chomping at the bit to come. He’s been fairly non-horny since the pain is usually on his mind more than sex. By default, his waits are somewhere around a week or so. I could probably have made him wait longer, but what would be the real purpose of that? If I’ve got him all riled up, I might as well take him all the way. It’s not like it’s happening every night. He’s not getting away with anything. At this point, anything I can do to make him feel better, I will do.
The orgasm certainly didn’t make him sleep any better. I’d like to think that for a few minutes, the rest of the world just faded away.
A Matter Of Style
I suppose it’s natural to be self critical. Mrs. Lion and I write every day. I am also a regular reader of other related blogs. I compare what I write with what other bloggers produce. Each blogger has an individual style. I truly enjoy the diversity. Then I start thinking about what I write.
There are choices on how to approach writing. Some of them are what I call journalistic. Mrs. Lion and I fall into that genre. Others are story form. Of course, you can slice and dice writing styles a million ways. But for now, lets just look at these two, very-different approaches.
Story style writing tends to be slice-of-life narratives. They feature highly descriptive language and generally include dialog. Here’s an example I created to describe my recent inability to get aroused:
It was time for her to have some fun. She told me it was time for her to take an orgasm from me. She didn’t wait for me to react. She pulled the blanket off me and began caressing my cock and balls. I stayed soft.
“Come on, up boy,” she ordered.
“I’m trying Ma’am”
“Can’t you see I am playing with you?”
“Yes, but I just can’t get hard.”
She shook her head and moved away. “This isn’t what I expect from you,” she said.
“I’m sorry.”
“Let’s wait a couple of weeks and see if you haven’t learned to behave properly.” …
Depending on the writer, the dialogue could be more elaborate and go into lengthy descriptions of how she moved her hand, my struggle to get aroused, etc. The story paints a picture you can see in your imagination.
I like that sort of writing. I like it a lot. But over time it becomes less a playback of reality and more an impressionistic painting of a power exchange. At best it is an accurate picture of an interesting piece of time. This style is frequently used in books on sexual subjects. A picture, even a mental one, is much more vivid than exposition.
But then, why do Mrs. Lion and I choose to write in a narrative style? My reason is that I want to share more than my experience. Creating a dialogue, even an inner one, makes it more difficult for the reader to see changes over time. Also, the story format doesn’t lend itself to exposition; explanation of reasons things do or don’t happen.
Both Mrs. Lion and I reported on my erectile problems. You read her account of what happened and how she decided to handle the issue. I wrote about how I felt and how I worried the change might be long term or permanent.
The difference in the two styles is that the story style created a movie of events. You, the reader, can put yourself into role of one of the people in the scene. It’s a visceral experience. It can arouse, frighten, or perhaps amuse you. My account provided very little imagination fodder. But it gave a view of what happened, like you were reading a newspaper.
Neither approach is better than the other. It’s the writer’s choice. More importantly, it’s your choice. You decide what you want to read. If you’re like me, you like both styles. Each affects you differently. It doesn’t matter. If you come back to see what’s happening in our lives, then our approach appeals to you. If you also want a more experiential read, you know where you can find that too.
I admire good descriptive language. Some of the blogs in our list of blogs we read are incredible examples of storytelling. Others are like ours and provide a more “newsy’ approach. Isn’t it nice we can enjoy both?
