Two things: I will be detailing about my penis. I will not be showing pictures…there are enough dick pics out there for viewing pleasure.
Tea: I am not drinking any. Read on for why.
I scalded my penis. The End.
I was making iced tea for the boyfriend, and me. I have been switching to glass jars. One glass jar has stood up the heat test a few times, so I felt comfortable with it being a tea jug. How wrong I was. It shattered, and covered my lower half in freshly boiling water. I immediately went back a few steps — as did boyfriend, he was farther away, and so he has no burns. Go boyfriend! —, and felt a burning sensation from the crotch region.
This is not where burning sensations should be even at the best of times, and this was quite not-the-best-of-times.
I tore off my sweats which had spread the water as sweats are designed to do. I now saw the damage before my eyes…and immediately I think of Chad from college.
See, Chad was/is (I have not spoken to him in years. I hope he is well.) a corpsman which is basically a medic for Marines. Corpsmen are not Marine medics as the Marine corps does not have medics, so the corpsmen are medics for Marines, but are enlisted under the Navy — I suppose technically all Marines are, but that is another topic for later —.
Now, he told me stories of how men would immediately check their crotches upon being injured. Blown up arms? Ask if the crotch is okay. Blown up legs? Check the crotch. Blown up arms, and legs? Ask about the crotch. He said that men who were fine in the crotch would normally be fine (as fine as PTSD allows). If the crotches were not fine, the men would almost always fade into depression, and stare off into nothingness for their ‘manliness’ were gone.
I thought about this as I stared at my now blistering penis. Steeping (should I make tea puns at this momen? Probably not. I, however, have not been a fan of the middle-class prudery of ‘should’) in a cool bath, I ruminated.
Okay, I’m forgetting to mention the first bath was full of my praying to every god I worship begging for all to be well.
What is it about the penis that makes us connect with manliness? Surely, the testes are more important as that is the sperm factory where one makes fathering-cells. Surely, manliness is something more than a sponge of tissue? When I think of Sigurd, I do not immediately — most days — wonder how big his dick was, or whether he was intact; which obviously he was because it was before Abrahamic abuses of infant boys; yet, when I ruminate on my own manliness, it is. Even though, I am not the Abrahamic butch type. I still find myself wondering: is manliness something related to the sponge between my legs? Did I lose manliness for not being intact?
Now, I know that my trans friends will ( and have ) discuss this with me about how it connects to their respect dysphorias, and I do not even want my burn to be connected to that level of societal pressure, and stigma (but, I know some transphobe will do it, if I don’t put this here. If one is transphobic, fuck off. Yeah. Truly.). I just am now figuring how I want to be manly in my 30s (for I knew the type of man I was in my 20s. Typically referred to as a man-whore, and proud).
Goal as of painful-penis era: I think that I am ready to push for the manly scholar.
Will write more about my thoughts on manliness (although probably not about my penis. There are more important things than genitalia.). I may have tea soon, but I cannot be around the tea kettle without flinching.
If anyone has comments, or source related to masculinity, e-post me at firstname.lastname@example.org .
TLDR: I scalded my penis. It made me think of manliness. I am in pain.