Real men used to wear pink, now they wear waist trainers

Hola peeps.

 

Happy new year. I am so embarrassed to be writing now ‘cos it’s been so long and scared to check when last I published a blog. Hold on…it’s February last year! Damn, talk about procrastination! I assumed it was August or something like that. I sincerely apologize, i.e., if anyone still reads this. I promise to do better this year. My new year resolution is to publish at least one blog every month and to finally learn Juba Arabic.

 

Speaking of procrastination, I included that as one of the items I struggle with in a form a therapist friend sent to me. I wasn’t keen to see her but while talking about breakup with EJ – more on that later – and my fear of commitment she proposed a session. Prior to that, she suggested I complete the questionnaire as part of the Rapid Transformation Therapy® (RTT®) she practices. Had never heard of RTT before, but the questionnaire had me intrigued(?) Is that the word I am looking for? Among the “areas of concern” I selected were compulsive behaviour, procrastination, and relationships. I also selected “hair growth” just to yank her chain. Yup, this RTT claims to help with that, fertility, skin problems, hearing, sight….I could go on and on. Reminds me of those elixirs purporting to cure all ills that were hawked in public transportation in Nigeria.

 

On the form I was also asked about past and current health problems, and during first session when I mentioned diabetes I was assured RTT could cure that as well. Colour me sceptical. I should not have doubted ‘cos when I saw the bill for the proposed 8 sessions spread over 2 months my hair nearly grew back from the shock; works out to be almost $400 per session. A part of me is thinking I’d live with my issues while the other wants to undergo the program just so I’d have stuff to write to y’all about. To be honest, with all that’s gone on since last time I blogged I doubt I’d lack for material. For instance, I had knee surgery in August after I tore my ACL playing football. This occurred in March I think, or was it end of February? The doctor I saw in Juba said it was just a muscle sprain and after a month of no relief and leg swelling my sister the doctor suggested I see an orthopedic surgeon to ensure it wasn’t blood clots. An Xray and MRI confirmed the ACL tear. So why did it take so long from diagnosis to surgery? I…..nah, I am all over the place. So much information not enough fingers to type. Best start with the present and work my way back in further blogs. Yeah, that might work best.

 

So today is January 16^th, 2022, and it’s been 6 days since I arrived from Nigeria. Wait, my alarm just went off to remind me it’s 9pm, which means time to get myself in order so I am in bed with the lights out and all devices shut before 10pm. Not sure I have adhered to this target more than once since I stopped running in Feb/March last year, though I still set my wake-up alarm for 5am on days of the week when I used to run mornings. Why? Maybe RTT® would get to the bottom of it.

 

I got out of the Juba airport at 9am, dropped bags at home, then went to the office to review tender documents that were due to be submitted before noon. Returned home and planned to work from there for rest of the week but had several meetings in the office, so that target never panned out as well. Maybe that’s a good thing, i.e., being busy and away from the house, because on the day I arrived I had time on my hands after unpacking and napping so decided to shave. Didn’t take regular clipper along with me to Lagos over the Xmas break, so as is the norm I select nose trimmer first to tidy up nostril hair and hair on the helix and tragus – thank you Google - parts of the ear. Then, I work on facial hair, armpit hair (if any) and pubes (if any). It was while on the latter things got interesting(?) Is that the word I am looking for? No better way to say this than to just be blunt and rip off the metaphorical band-aid. Speaking of, I wish I had actual band-aid at the time ‘cos instead of stopping just before the shaft I decided to clear hair from underside of scrotum and that’s when I musta cut a vein or something ‘cos blood poured and poured and poured.

 

My head started thinking of all the first-aid classes I had attended or medical procedurals watched on TV. Former school of thought if one had a nosebleed was to tilt head backwards but then that rule was altered to prevent blood from going to the brain; what does one do with a bleeding scrotum? I couldn’t suspend legs up ‘cos that would not help as scrotum naturally hangs down and with it hanging down I am losing blood. With no band-aid I MacGyver-ed bog roll and rubber-band in thirty-second effort - yes, I counted – to staunch the bleeding. Glancing at entire set-up in the mirror made my privates look like a caryatid. Can’t get that picture outta your head? Well, multiply that by ten ‘cos it looked much worse.

 

Tried to distract myself from intense pain (caused by rubber band wrapped around balls) by working, nah pretending to work, on laptop but gave up after 14 mins and 23 seconds – yes, I timed it. If you think maneuvering a rubber band around ball sack is complicated and painful, try un-maneuvering it. If I fail to have more kids now you know why. My voice was an octave higher for nearly a minute so much so I couldn’t pick up a call from a mate, and due to aforementioned procrastination problem I failed to return the call. So, imagine how embarrassed and apologetic I was when we bumped into each other at a supermarket earlier today.

 

Bleeding continued unabated after I finally extricated rubber band with some pieces of hair, so I sat on the bog and thought of my life as blood turned the white veneer crimson. I wondered how if I hadn’t eaten I’da used blood to test fasting sugar level with a glucometer. Thought of how weird my autopsy would be; do I leave a note to say I wasn’t trying to kill myself and was too chicken to slice wrists so chose scrotum instead? Or do I find a way to reshape this as the last piece of performance art of an undervalued genius? Hey, ever been in the loo so long you forgot whether you wiped your butt or not? That happened to me last week.

 

Drats, it’s 1024pm already. Uh oh, another missed goal. Gotta hurry up this story then. After over 2hrs of bleeding - I swear I musta lost more blood from scrotum than during entire knee surgery - sixty-third effort finally slowed bleeding after I dabbed wound with talc and covered it with a paste made of nine-parts talc and one-part sheabutter. Phew. 

As evidence we are definitely living in the Matrix as soon as I went online I got hit with an ad for Manscaped. Felt awful Big Brother was taking advantage of my pain to sell products until I discovered they offer the Crop Preserver®, an anti-chafing ball deodorant, and the Crop Reviver®, a ball spray toner. I never knew I ever needed these in my life, but I am getting them. Better use of my funds than RTT if you ask me. I reckon if I commit to choosing me and showing up for me strongly, and truly “trust the process” I’d make extra moolah as a balls’ model. Do those even exist? If they don’t, I am gonna pioneer that genre.

Tot ziens and God bless.