The second most-annoying part of bottom surgery
For the most part, my new bits are pretty well integrated into my sense of my body. It feels normal that I have an innie instead of an outie—in fact it’s hard to remember what having an outie felt like. Except when you have an itch.
I don’t mean being horny, I mean when the pruriceptors receptors in the skin start going off and releasing histamines.
One moment you’re just waking up and starting your morning meditation routine and suddenly you get an itch that you can’t find. Your brain goes “I know exactly where that is…on the old equipment…just scratch right there and you’re done.”
So you reach down and try to scratch except you have no clue where those neurons are anymore. You reach down and try to dig around to poke around and your brain goes “Come on, what’s taking so long? It’s just like when you need to scratch your arm. You know, normal shit. WHY HAVEN’T YOU FOUND IT YET IT’S RIGHT THERE OMG.”
It’s the worst. Right behind navigating the collective billing and insurance offices of the US medical system.