Penis Embarrassment.

I often times think back to a humiliation. A moment where my manhood was called into question, all spun out of control by misconception. It keeps me up at night sometimes that someone could be out in the world thinking about my inadequacy. It’s only one person, but can’t be unseen by the person.

A couple years ago I was in the ICU on life support for about 3 days. I had the full range of equipment strung from and inserted into every limb and orifice. When I woke they removed the respirator, but they were unable to remove all of the equipment because certain organs and fluids were compromised. I spent a couple days in that state because my organs took their time getting acclimated to living again. So during that couple days I was able to take an inventory of the machines hooked up to me. The one thing that really stuck out in my mind was the catheter.

The catheter didn’t hurt like you would think. Shoving a tube to drain the bladder into the urethra, which it expands it might I ad, actually is painless. I don’t remember it going in though. Anyway, I got my hand down there a couple times to see if I couldn’t give it a bit of a tactile investigation, and discovered something curious yet frightening. I found that the apparel had shrank an inordinate amount. No I am a pretty humble guy, my ego is relatively mitigated by neurotic baggage, but this sent a very shallow, very real fear cascading across my neurons.

All that I could think of was the nurse, the nurse that would remove the catheter. Sure nurses see a lot, but they don’t see everything. I mean for all I know the nurse in the emergency room put the catheter in, and the nurse in the ICU was taking it out. They see small dick, they see average, and they see big black monster cock, but I didn’t want to be the type of guy the nurse pitied when she got a look at my shrunken scarf and mittens.

So the fateful day came. I was in a pretty emotionally frail state, and I had a very gorgeous caring nurse that day, a unique beauty. She went above and beyond. Gave me a dry bath of some kind, this was the first human touch I’d experienced in months and months. You could just tell this girl was in tune with the feelings of her patients and she was just sweet. Anyway, like I said the fateful day, the time when this gorgeous empathic vibrant nurse was advised to remove the damn catheter. I may as well have been castrated, she removed it and I could feel the force of the fleeting passing thought coming from the nurse. The kinda fleeting passing thought that identifies, feels, and passes as if it didn’t happen. I could feel the nurse saying to herself “small dick, aw, alright sanitize hands.”.

I don’t have a small dick, it’s one of my superficial gifts really. I just feel like it’s a societal thing, dick size, and it sucks. That nurse is out there, never thinking of me, living her life, and looked at a thousand other catheter dicks since. I get that it’s not a huge deal, but planted somewhere deep in her mind is pity, baby dick, and me fused together in a negative autonomic irk. I feel like I will see her on my wedding night some day in the future, and feel so emasculated I won’t be able to perform to consummate the marriage. I know she’s out there, she has seen my dick at its weakest. What if I become a congressman and she ruins the reputation of my dick?

I am half joking during some of this. In all seriousness, this neurotic thought sits deep in my stomach at times. The thought swirls and sits deep in bowels, like a stomach full of sugar and coffee.