All is still well in the Land of Drew, but I am god damned exhausted. This caregiving thing has taken any and all thoughts I might have ever had about a life as a slave and thrown them right out the window. Though, to be fair, through the other window I am suddenly finding the idea of having my own slave even more appealing. I guess that’s why they call me Dual. The weird life of a kinky switch. (FYI – Feel free to apply for the slave position at the contact me link above. Please be male, intelligent, over 30, and be ready to undergo a rigorous in person vetting process and testing from a committee comprised of Thumper, Ferns, Kiwi, and Mrs. Fever. If there is a man able to pass that, please note, preference will be given to those with a personal training license, six pack abs, and a passion for baseball; although all are welcome to apply.)
But, look at me, I digressed before I even started. In my mind, I am in one of the kinkier places I have been since all of this life drama started and I have to say I am enjoying it and am even planning a fun, fetish-y weekend in Canada with my Steelwerks friend and another kinky blog reader in the next few weeks which is both making me happy and fueling that internal “must go to the gym” fire that I have been missing.
Overall, I am sure this change in outlook is partly due to the lockup I promised Axel while he was recovering and the fact that he is enjoying it (plus I love this device), but also, just a more positive outlook in general that has come from a multitude of areas. These include my nice day with Thumper last week, a feeling of just general comfort in my own skin which has gotten stronger with every post and every comment this year, and, most importantly, Axel getting out of surgery and smiling for the first time in months.
Looking back I can see the huge weight his joint rejection was placing on us, but, like a lot of things, it was just hard to see when you are inside of it. Now, to be blunt, nothing changed at all physically yet, I mean, I did not jump on the hospital bed and go to town (though the traction devices they have one them are HOT), but, like Obama in 2008, there is hope in the house again and that is very nice.
As a update on Axel specifically, he is doing okay. As they closed him up they packed the incision area (which, if you are into scars would be really cool – it’s 22.5″ long)(Thumper doesn’t want to see the pic but I am going to ambush him one day with it, you know, cause I care) full of steroids and numbing agents which is why he was so chipper immediately and not in such pain. Fast forward almost 72 hours since we have been home, and he’s having a bad day today, though yesterday was the worst because PT started and they made him do 15 minutes of stair climbing. He’s incredibly swollen in his mid section and his dick has retreated inside of him (literally, damnedest thing really), so he’s just uncomfortable and that makes me really unhappy. But, ever the vigilant nurse, I push the pills, I wear something tight, and I brush my device against him enough to try to keep the mood elevated.
Finally, the Scot’s each texted him the morning of the surgery and they came to the hospital the second night and stayed a few hours. I have forgiven them for the ghosting because we finally heard what the issues were, which we not related to us; however, Axel and I both learned that if they are not emotionally mature enough to deal with bad news and communicate, then they are not what either of us need in an open marriage coupling because, as we know, that takes a far greater emotional strength than they have now demonstrated that they have.