Trigger warning, in case it's needed: childhood sexual assault
In 2017, I was backed into a corner by a large and very angry patient at work who was obviously drunk. He cursed me out and told me how inept and stupid I was for over two minutes before I could get away from him. It triggered a repressed memory of once when I was sexually assaulted when I was 12 years old by a much larger male cousin in my own bed during a sleepover. He was the same age as me, but he was a big guy. I weighed 80 pounds and looked like I was in the third grade. He pulled my pajamas and underwear off, flipped me onto my stomach, and tried to penetrate me anally. He almost got the tip of his penis in, but it hurt so bad that I guess he got scared I was going to cry out, so he stopped. My parents were in the next room, after all. After giving up on that, he got down on his stomach and played with my anus. He even sniffed it like a dog. He went back and forth between playing with it and sniffing it for several minutes. He then flipped my over onto my back and played with my penis and testicles until I got semi-erect. I remember now how much I hated that my body responded like that. He played with and sniffed all of that for several minutes. I think he was trying to get me fully erect. I hate to think what all sorts of horrible things may have happened if he'd been successful. I guess he got bored because he reached over and grabbed one of my notebooks and ripped a sheet out. He told me he wanted me to watch him shoot stuff when he came. I remember seeing a little bit of clear, gelatinous liquid spurt out of his penis, and I didn't know what it was or why it happened. My parents had yet to give me "the talk." Throughout all of this, I didn't fight back. I guess I was in shock. I've reflected on that many times since the memory popped back up, and sometimes I hate myself for not saying no, for not trying to stop him, for being so weak. Part of me believes that the reason it went on for so long was because he thought my silence and submissiveness meant that I was into it. He was mistaken. With that comes the notion that I was partly at fault, and with that comes shame.
My life slowly started falling apart after that little memory decided to pop back up. It also sort of started making sense to me why I never married or even dated. I'm still a virgin. I may have pushed the memory down, but it obviously influenced the direction of my life for the next 30+ years. That realization made me even more depressed, and it also made me angry. My whole life got derailed, and I was too stupid to realize why.
In 2019, I had to retire from my 25-year healthcare career for mental and physical health reasons. I had really gone downhill. The job stress was too much, and along with the other stuff, I became suicidal. I realized I had to make a choice between my career and my life. I became even more depressed after I left work, feeling like I no longer served a purpose, that I was no longer a man. I developed what I'm pretty sure is Peyronie's disease in 2018, which only reinforced the narrative. I came to believe that God was telling that I didn't need to ever have find love or have children because I was useless, and that was why I got Peyronie's disease. Depression lies. After getting in better place mentally, I just assumed it was because of my age.
I started going to therapy, which has helped a lot, but there are physical ramifications that talking won't fix. I started having problems getting erections around that time. It was intermittent, but it's become more frequent over the last few years. Masturbation was one of the only things I was really good at, and now I was screwing that up, too. Ejaculation strength and amount also took a huge hit. I used to be able to knock a bird off a wire at 30 yards, and now it looks like somebody is vomiting up a little bit of egg yolk. There are times when I don't ejaculate at all. On numerous occasions, I've ejaculated, but there is no orgasm. At the point of orgasm, it just turns into a slight tingle and then immediately gives that pins and needles feeling that you get when your foot is asleep. I've lost a lot of sensation in my penis. It's like some gremlin put some numbing gel on it while I was sleeping, and it never washed off.
My mental health got much better over the last year or so after starting therapy again. I was diagnosed with ADHD last year and prescribed Vyvanse, and it has helped tremendously. Stimulants can have negative effects on sexual function, however, and boy did it ever. Everything related to that got worse. Getting an erection, a full erection, has become difficult, A lot of times when I masturbate it looks like one of those inflatable tube men you see at car dealerships. The ejaculation issues got worse. I also started having urinary hesitancy issues. I'm in the middle of peeing, and the stream just stops. The urge doesn't, though. It starts burning, like the feeling when you really have to go but worse. I have to think about puppies and kittens or lean forward onto the wall or sit down to be able to empty my bladder. Even with straining, it often doesn't completely empty. I'm constantly dealing with constipation. I only go once a week sometimes.
I've never mentioned any of this to my GP, who is a woman. I've always been way too shy for that. She has never even made me undress before. My PSA levels are always good, so she's never needed to check my prostate with a digital rectal exam. She's a friend and is aware of my issues, and I guess she doesn't want to traumatize me. She still conducts a good exam; it's just a PG-rated one. Why don't I use a male doctor since I'm so body-shy around my female GP? Because one male already looked at and touched me down there. Once is enough. Yeah, I know that's a mental hang-up, but it is what it is. My cardiologist is male, though. I don't know why he gets a pass, maybe because I was seeing him before the childhood memory decided crawl out of its hole. Plus, I know he's not going to need to handle my penis to make sure my heart is working ok. The last time anyone saw any of my intimate areas -- up until a few months ago -- was at a physical when I was 17 years old, It was a quick turn and cough. That doctor passed away many years ago, so up until recently no one alive had ever seen or touched my penis and testicles since I became an adult. Yay for me, I guess (holds plaque and smiles). Several months back, though, I finally gave in and had a colonoscopy after my GP and family had been pressing me for a couple of years. I'm sure a lot of people saw my butt unless they're blind and operate by radar, but I was loaded up on propofol so I never knew it. If I didn't see it, I can pretend it didn't happen. I'm not deluded. I know that one day a male doctor may have to work on me because of surgery or an emergency. I just hope I'm unconscious at the time. I also haven't seen a urologist about my issues because it's almost impossible to find a female urologist who sees male patients. Several months back, one started practicing about three hours away, so it may be in the cards at some point.
A friend of mine asked me last year about some pain and pressure he had in his groin and testicles. Even though I no longer work, I'm still the go-to for family and friends when it comes to health stuff. He'd seen his doctor, and they'd run some tests, finding nothing. I did some digging and happened upon a YouTube video by Dr. Suzie Gronski, a pelvic floor therapist. That's the first time I'd ever heard about pelvic floor therapy. She talked about groin and testicular pain often being a result of pelvic floor dysfunction. It was very interesting. She talked about stretching exercises and Kegels and all sorts of fun stuff. I sent the video to my friend. A month or so later, he called to tell me that did some research and found guides on the specific exercises and Kegel routines and started using them. He was doing much better. I went back to the well and dug a little more into pelvic floor therapy. I learned that pelvic floor therapy can help with a lot of conditions related to the bowels and bladder. My sister deals with urinary incontinence, and my mom suffers from both urinary and fecal incontinence. I discussed with my sister a little while back about seeing a pelvic floor therapist, as one had just opened a practice less than an hour away. She started going, and she's doing much better after only a few sessions. My dad was diagnosed with cancer a few weeks ago, so my mom is scheduled to start after my dad completes his treatments.
Over the last couple of weeks, I've noticed that my blood pressure is starting to trend upward in spite of taking two blood pressure medications. It's high enough that I know it needs to be evaluated. The urinary hesitancy also came back with a vengeance. I feel like both symptoms are due to stress from my dad's diagnosis, but I'm going to my GP tomorrow to get it checked out just to be sure. I'm also debating on asking her to write me a referral for pelvic floor therapy. I appear to be a poster child for pelvic floor dysfunction, more specifically hypertonicity. It fits my history: anxiety disorder, depression, past sexual trauma. The symptoms fit: erectile dysfunction, missing orgasms, loss of sensation, ejaculatory issues, urinary hesitancy, constipation. The thing is, I don't know if I have the courage to go. It is NOT the kind of provider you go to if you have modesty issues. Seriously. Right off the bat, the initial exam requires nudity below the waste. She will definitely examine my perineum and anus, most likely my scrotum, and possibly even my penis. She will do an internal exam, where she will insert her finger rectally and evaluate my pelvic muscles from the inside. An erection is very common during this initial exam. It's not hard to understand why.
After evaluation, she will go over a treatment plan. My sister's treatment involves bike exercises, stretching routines, and Kegels, which are all very effective in strengthening the pelvic floor, which treats incontinence. The treatment for hypertonicity is MUCH different. A large portion of of the therapy will involve manual therapy, which means I would be naked from the waste down in almost every session. She will identify areas of tension and trigger points, and, using her finger, massage the muscles on my perineum and around my anus and genitals, including my anal sphincter. She will also spend time massaging the affected muscles internally. I read one account, maybe it was on here, that she could spend up to 20 minutes at a time with her finger inside my rectum. As mentioned before, getting an erection is almost a given, and some male patients have spontaneous ejaculation while being treated. I mentioned Peyronie's disease earlier. Depending on her specialty, there is a good chance that she will want to tackle that as well. That would involve her examining my shaft to locate the area of plaque that is causing the bend. I think mine is on top, about middle ways up my shaft. She will then massage, manipulate, and stretch that area to try to break up some of the plaque. I have no doubt that she will want me to do most of that myself, at home, but I suspect she would do some of it herself and would check the progress regularly.
If all of that sounds like a medfet's dream, you'd be correct. The Vyvanse for my ADHD sent my libido through the roof. It's an amphetamine after all. Somewhere along the way, a lot of my fear of being exposed and touched medically has turned into somewhat of a fetish. It always involves a woman exclusively, though. Dude get turned away at the door. I just find it weird that being exposed and touched like that would be arousing, considering my modesty and history. I talked with my therapist, and she said that it's probably due to the vulnerability and powerlessness involved, the loss of autonomy and forced exposure and touch. She said that it sometimes happens to people who have a history of sexual abuse of some sort. She assured me that there was nothing "wrong" with me for having those feelings. It's just how my mind chose to deal with bad memories.
Now, to the root of the issue. Do I go through with this? Will I regret it? Will it help with my current issues? Will my medfet tendencies override the reality of being exposed to a complete stranger in such an extreme way for an extended amount of time? Or will I completely freak out, start crying, and run out? Will I get an erection? Will I have a panic attack? Will I ejaculate? Will I run screaming through a plate-glass window?
Another thing. In case you haven't already guessed, the therapist is a knockout. I'm not exaggerating. She's absolutely gorgeous. Petite, long wavy brown hair, in her 20s. Am I doing this for the right reasons? Am I overstating my symptoms, even to myself, just to make this happen? I've never been touched down there. And here you have this beautiful 20-something who'll be using her hands to spread my butt cheeks open, where she'll see my anus, even inserting her finger into it. She'll be handling and massaging my perineum, my anus, maybe even my penis, maybe even while it's erect. She's be seeing my perineum and anus on a regular basis while I'm spread-eagle on a padded table.
Let me summarize that last paragraph: a 51 year old virgin who's never been touched intimately will have a stunning young woman speak kindly and softly to him as she fingers him and touches and massages his perineum, anus, testicles, and penis. He can (and probably will) get an erection in front of her, and she won't yell "ewwwww" and run away. In fact, she'll see it as a positive sign that what she's doing is helping me. Not only that, she may palpate, manipulate, massage, and stretch that same erect penis, and she'll be asking him how it feels and if hurts the entire time with a smile on her face. And if he accidentally ejaculates? She won't freak out. She won't get mad. She will smile and make small talk about her pet Pomeranian while he's shooting semen all over his abdomen.
I mean, should I feel guilty about going? In my head, I know that my history and symptoms warrant it, but I'd be lying the biggest lie that the biggest liar has ever told in the history of lying if I said that all of the above isn't a monumental turn-on and a scenario that belongs in the highest echelon of virgin fantasies. And will fulfilling this ultimate fantasy cost me a hundred thousand dollars and a kidney? No, each and every time will probably cost me a $30 copay, $75 if she's out of network.
I'm torn, conflicted, unsure, scared, and a little bit excited. Any advice would be welcome.