Although diagnosed with prostate cancer, I wasn't ready to give up sex. After surgery, it took me awhile to get back to myself, but with hard work, therapy, and a positive attitude, it did happen. I write to help me remember and share, hoping we both get some laughs along the way. AKA ADVENTURES OF A CANCER STUD. I am now writing The Gay Detective. Soon I will link all my blogs together to one spot.
Having had a rough time here in Chicago, it was time for an escape. Dealing with a psychotic property manager who believes she's doing you a favor rather than her job, I decided it was time to take a few mental health days. And off I went to Charleston, South Carolina. I had met some friends when I was in Key West, who invited me to visit. And not only were they gracious, they were entertaining and funny. They welcomed me into their home and gave me my own room with a view and said to relax. We took a carriage ride of the city, went to eat and toured the sites.
82 Queen St. Restaurant
Middleton Plantation Grounds
The cobblestone streets, the Marketplace, the beautiful sunsets and screened back porch brought my blood pressure down, upped my dopamine, and allowed me to have conversations with "normal" people. A very charming city and one I would urge you to visit. Travel is a wonderful way to de-stress and forget your problems. It was only 6 days, but it was enough to make me feel human again. No matter what your pain or your worries, it is always a good idea to get away from it and get some distance.
In my experience, I think most men are selfish when it comes to sex. Depending on the degree of this trait before having prostate surgery and the result, post surgery often exaggerates this. Most men want to get off and don't care much about what happens to their partner, man or woman. Unfortunately, the man is usually not called out on it. To me love-making is about two people. Usually my partner and then me. Hopefully together but if not, both should have satisfaction. I see too many posts about men being very concerned about their sexual functioning. I am all for sex, believe me, but if there is a problem with getting an erection, I think the focus should be shifted to pleasing your partner. There are many ways to do this and I am not going to get into that on this post, but will pursue it another time. I do think that if a man cannot get hard, it is not the end of the world. Intimacy can be much more satisfying than a quick climax. I know this is a difficult concept and one that takes a lot of work. Often, men get depressed and that's OK. But, there is a way out and rather than dwell on the problem, work on the solution. The solution can be in seeing your partner being satisfied. The gift is in the giving. Guys, I know many of you are your fifties and your perception of sexual satisfaction is different from those of us who are older, let's say in their sixties. But the same principal applies. Make your partner part of the solution and you may be surprised in the results.Goahead, you both can get some.satisfaction
To all those mothers here and gone, I wish you a Happy Mother's Day. You are the Hunter-Gatherer-Warriors of our lives who made sure we had food, shelter and a shoulder to lean on. You are the ones who gave us a supportive hug or a meaningful glance when we needed it. Thanks to all mothers everywhere who loved us even when we weren't lovable. Be sure to remember yours today.
Oscar soon learned that there is a price for fame. He had gone from a life of being a recluse to one of being a star. Paparazzi appeared no matter where he went.
Even if he went to the local grocery store for a loaf of bread and milk. Of course, Oscar knew he had always wanted to be well endowed and wanted people to chase after him. But, it took a lot of time and effort. He had to deal with questions like, "How does it feel to have one of the biggest tools in the world?" Do you find you enjoy sex more? Do you plan on getting a bigger version?" The answers were: cumbersome, absolutely, and no.
Oscar had always liked clothes even if they fit badly and came from the cheaper outlets. Now, he found that his waist was the same but his inseam had increased a foot. None of his pants fit, unless he wanted to look like he was advertising his wares. He finally had to find a tailor, but even he was curious. This led to another search for someone who would not be impressed or curious. She came from a small Romanian village where size was never noticed. Men often put bottles of vodka in their pockets so they could have a taste whenever they wanted and consequently they all looked well-endowed. Also the women did most of the chores and were so exhausted by the end of the day, the last thing they wanted was sex. Nanika measured accurately and was an excellent seamstress.
Oscar went from looking like a schlump to appearing like a Wall Street banker. Now, even though people knew who he was they didn't fixate on his crotch. (That wasn't true. It just wasn't obvious to those who searched.) This was especially important when he made a TV appearance. Cameramen liked to zero in on that area as the host asked him about his appendage. Oscar usually wore an oversized shirt unless he was coming on OPRAH or THE VIEW.http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DczrNOwRmew Joy and Sheri enjoyed sitting close to him, Elizabeth blushed and he noticed even Whoopi and Barbara seemed overly cheerful . Oprah announced, "HERE'S OSCAR." He kept trying to tell them that prostate cancer was the only reason he was there, but they didn't want to hear that.
As I mentioned, Oscar was gay and wondered why the women still were interested. Then he realized that a lot of male movie stars, even though they had families and considered very masculine, were also gay. It was so common that on the talk show circuit, very few people bothered to acknowledge it. It was then that Oscar began to wonder why he thought it was so important to have such a "big one." Of course there was the exhibitionist factor. When he went to the gym, the showers suddenly filled up and more men snuck glances and crowded around him.
Oscar sought out a good therapist who specialized in size issues....and charged $1,000 an hour. There was a time when Oscar would have laughed at the cost but now that he was famous, it no longer mattered. He often felt used and wondered how many people liked him for his fame, or even worse, his Dong. His therapist was working with him to accept himself and it was a tough process.
If you're Polish, you've been taught to clean. Men, women, children. Everyone cleans. Floors must be swept, washed, waxed. Our generation (3rd) isn't as thorough as our parents were. Nevertheless, it was passed on to us. Each of us has PTSD and OCD from our past. When stressed we clean. There is always something to clean or re-clean. Why do you think clean is associated with Polish Cleaning Ladies. Everyone wants one. Now, what does this have to do with cancer.....(hold on, I'm getting there) anyone who has had cancer (any type) has been stressed to the max. Everyone has stories as to how they dealt with that stress. Some offer support, others deny it, and some laugh at it. Check out, I Made Cancer My Bitch which really made me laugh. Maybe it's for a select audience, but many people have been diagnosed with some sort of cancer these days. It would be interesting to hears others stories. But, I digress. Why this post? I returned from a trip recently and discovered a pipe had burst in my place. After my breakdown, I prepared for the challenge. Brooms, mops, pails. Gloves, rags, disinfects. Not only did I have to clean it, I had to disinfect it. There was the impending fear of an e coli infection. It took nearly 24 hours to get the floors, cabinets, knobs, furniture cleaned. I felt the pressure and guilt building from my past history and knew my family was watching from above ready to critique my every move. There was a lot of pressure but I finally finished. I was in a total sweat and I was panting for breath. But, it was clean. I didn't have to think about cancer or its side effects. This was my new normal. I was happy.