More Sleep; Less Pain

Lion has his days and nights confused. He’s been sleeping a lot during the day and then can’t sleep at night. We haven’t had anywhere to be so it’s okay, but tomorrow he has an appointment with a nurse at the hospital to discuss pain meds. This wouldn’t be so bad if he hadn’t covered this before his surgery. Supposedly pain management put a plan in place to deal with post-op pain. Apparently the surgical team isn’t beholden to pain management

This morning Lion reminded me it was punishment day. The only problem is that it isn’t. Tomorrow is. For some reason I had my days straight and Lion didn’t. It’s usually the other way around. I give him credit for trying. He’s really been trying to follow his rules even if they aren’t in effect right now.

I think Lion is getting stronger every day. He seems less wobbly. Sure, he’s still sleeping a lot but when he gets up, he’s doing better. I think his getting out of the hospital is responsible. He doesn’t have to fight with me when he wants to get up. I just help him. He’s able to control the position of the bed better too. In the hospital, the controls were on the bed rails which were hard to reach. At home, he has a remote for it. He has more television channels to watch, or sleep through as the case may be. The only thing lacking is room service. The variety of food isn’t as great, but I get him anything we have whenever he wants it.

I predict that Lion will be a little more self-sufficient by Monday. He may still need the walker but he won’t need me to be hovering nearby. Obviously he’ll need me to get him food but he’ll do better at personal care. And then I further predict that he’ll start feeling horny by the following Monday. Maybe I’m being optimistic but it’s good to have goals.

My Invisible Erection

It’s really nice to be home. The truth is that I’m not all that more comfortable home as I was in the hospital. I’m supposed to go back for a check and visit tomorrow. I’m not sure that won’t be too much for me. However, I will do my best.

Collared Michael, one of our friends and readers, wrote that he is exploring the idea of wearing a very short chastity device. Since he has had considerable experience in a rather long Jail Bird, his reactions to the new, closer environment will be interesting. For many reasons, guys frequently maintain the same size device over a long period of time.

If they do try different brands and styles, they almost always leave the basic measurements the same. This makes sense. After all, if you change up too many things you never really learn whether a new product is an improvement over an old one. I suppose there is no good reason to swap out chastity devices unless the current one is a poor fit.

In my case, at least, I like the variety and I like to experiment to see what would happen if I change one or more parameters. Over time, I’ve learned that I prefer an “open” style cage. I like that it’s easy to keep clean and that my skin can breathe.

I’ve tried some tube-style devices. By and large they are a little more difficult to fit into (the extra friction with the solid walls makes getting everything lined up harder to do). Other than that, the biggest difference for me is the effort needed to stay clean. Some guys have a strong fetish attraction to being in a solid container. There’s nothing wrong with that. Most of the tube style devices can be kept clean.

Of course, enforced male chastity is not about the container in which the penis lives. It’s about surrendering control of its sexual activities. For me at least, surrendering sexual control has turned out to be the easiest part of all this. The cage isn’t really necessary as a way of assuring I won’t masturbate without permission. I won’t, and Mrs. Lion knows it.

Being bedridden, I had some time to reflect on things. No, I haven’t emerged from the cave with the oracle’s solution to man’s problems. I have, I think, gotten a better perspective on how my orgasms are thought about by Mrs. Lion and other interested parties.

I did not arrive at anything profound. I just realized that my orgasms are very big and important to me, but not terribly significant to anyone else. If you think of me standing naked before you with a full erection, you will notice it, of course, but it won’t end up being where your eyes are fixed. You’ve seen a penis before. You know what an erection looks like. And, truth be told, mine isn’t so big or unusual that it merits more than a passing glance.

On my side of the equation, my penis is enormous. It is a gigantic opportunity to embarrass me by my exposed sexual arousal. What would your mother say? Do you like showing your erection to strangers? Can’t you control yourself?

None of my thoughts are about how nice my arousal must look to you. It’s about how embarrassing it is for me to force you to look at my erection. I’ve had sex with a lot of women over the years. I have no idea how any of them, including Mrs. Lion, actually feels about seeing me poking out.

If you see me in this condition, perhaps let me know how you react to it. It’s really not a big deal. It’s just one of those “blank spots” that exists in polite society. It’s the way we pretend that such obvious signs of arousal don’t exist.


Frustration Isn’t Always a Good Thing

Lion is still snoozing a lot. He’s still taking pain medication and I’m sure that’s part of it. He keeps apologizing for being so tired. I’m glad he’s sleeping. He needs to so he can recover.

I think he’s doing a lot better but he’s still frustrated. Unless he was able to bounce right up off the bed after the surgery, he wasn’t going to be happy. We did manage to get him into the shower yesterday so at least he’s a clean Lion. And he’s been venturing into the bathroom to brush his teeth.

Last night Lion asked how many days it’s been since he had an orgasm. If memory serves, he had one the Friday before his surgery. Of course, he’s not ready to have another one, but I think it’s a good sign he’s thinking about it. He keeps saying he’s broken, but if he’s wondering about orgasms then I don’t think he’s broken.

I suspended Lion’s rules while he’s recuperating. However, he’s been trying to remind me of punishment day and he asked if he could eat first yesterday. Somewhere under all the incoherent, half-asleep babble, he’s thinking about FLRD. Obviously, I’m not going to punish him for forgetting the rules since they aren’t in effect. I just like the fact that he’s trying to obey them.

The worst part about Lion being out of it is that we’ve had quite a few very nice days in a row. It’s been in the 70s for a few days and poor Lion is missing it. I’m sorry we don’t have a lounge chair that he could snooze outside on.

I know Lion is discouraged that things aren’t progressing as quickly as he’d like. But every day I see improvement in his strength and stability. I think he just needs to be a little more patient, although that’s definitely not his strong point.

Free Lion

We’re home from the hospital. Getting in the house was a pretty hairy adventure. Turned out that I didn’t have all that much energy. As a result, my body started shaking and collapsing as I walked past my home office door. Fortunately, Mrs. Lion was able to get my desk chair under me and I managed to roll into the bedroom and then roll myself onto the bed. It wasn’t the graceful sort of entrance I would’ve liked to make.

After resting a few minutes we attempted the next Herculean task: urination. In the hospital, no less than three poorly trained staffers pushed and pulled me until I was standing in my walker. This effort exhausted all of us. When Mrs. Lion got involved I suggested that the minions back off to give her a chance to learn how to handle me, things went much smoother. Mrs. Lion understands the principles needed to get me from a sitting to lying position on the bed to a sitting position at the end of the bed, and then finally standing in the walker.

She did it very easily and advised the astounded flunkies that she was just “lucky”. These people made a great effort to let us know they had received special training on how to move patients. Apparently that training didn’t include some basic physics. For example if you’d like me to stand up and move to my right the people helping me should be providing upward support and allow me to get into position. That never occurred to them. It was as though I they were carrying a 240 pound bag of marbles.

Once standing comfortably in the walker, Mrs. Lion placed the urinal in the appropriate location and let me know I could go. I think she said, “fire when ready.” I did and the urinal did its job and captured my outflow.

The hospital is very proud of the fact that they have automated systems supporting the nursing staff. For example to determine if it’s time for me to take a specific drug, the nurse frantically types for four or five minutes, carefully reading information being delivered, before finally saying, “yes, it’s time.”

Some of the more subversive, intelligent nurses indicate pill times on a whiteboard at the front of the room. This easily-affordable system is fast and far more accurate than monkeys typing on the computer keyboard.

To his credit, my surgeon made an in-person visit every single day I was in the hospital. Good job! He was very satisfied with the healing at the wound site and with my progress taking back my bodily functions.

Before being allowed to check out of a hospital, most of the time the patient has to eat and drink and pee and poop. These basic dietary activities are considered a good indication of improving health. In my case, I was good to go in almost every respect the same day I was operated on. The poop column didn’t get checked until Friday night. There are many other items on the checkout checklist, including wound cleanup etc. that also had to be met. The nursing staff was as anxious to get rid of me as I was to go.

I can’t imagine why. I made every effort to be charming and sweet. A couple, even brought me outside treats. I take that as a strong sign of commitment between a staffer and the patient.

I didn’t realize it at the time, but apparently I was in a special unit. I was of one of three patients being handled by four nurses and health aides. This is a very intense staff to patient ratio. Yet despite that, I routinely had to wait between 30 minutes and an hour for even minor attention. I guess the other two patients were much sicker.

Somehow, I made it through. Mrs. Lion told me that the staff had bought a sheet cake decorated with flowers and a candle for each day I was in the hospital. How thoughtful I thought. I asked Mrs. Lion how I would get my piece. She responded that the cake wasn’t for us it was for them celebrating the fact that I was finally out of the place.

Now that I’ve been home more than 24 hours, I’m more comfortable and much happier with the company. It’s clear that I can’t really take care of myself yet. I can’t get from the bed to the walker on my own. I can’t feed myself or use the toilet on my own.

To top all this off, we’ve ordered a wheelchair. I never used a wheelchair. I never wanted to. But, it looks like it’s a good idea right now. Another “good” idea those nursing morons hadwas to take me to a nursing home for “rehabilitation”.

Are they kidding? No, not this lion.

I figure that it’s going to take some time for me to recover enough to cut back on the pain medication. When that happens, I should be able to better coordinate my movements. I think my current feebleness is due to the medication I’m taking.

My first night home I got a lot of sleep. That was great. Mrs. Lion got sleep too. We were both worried. We do better when we can touch one another. Now that we are in the same bed in our usual home things will begin getting easier. And, of course, I’m not allowed to growl at Mrs. Lion. There was no rule about that protecting the untrained nursing staff. I’ll try to get another post in tomorrow and let you know what’s happening in our bed.