Luckily, at Thunder was a friend who happened to be a nurse. I bought some vet wrap for a non-kinky purpose; I used it for compression. When I got “home” to Phoenix, we had a quick bit to eat, and then headed to a local ER. The one my friend recommended was more than 35 minutes away, so we chose one in a hoity-toity area near us, assuming that because the area was rick, they’d be able to hired decent staff.

Boy, was I wrong.  Not only did they not have anyone on staff to help me with a wheel chair, but once I waited the few requisite hours to make it to triage, the nurse there not only had no idea what synvisc (my injections) were, but couldn’t seem to figure out how to put my sulfa drug allergy in my chart. Sulfa drug allergies are incredibly common, yet she had no clue, and finally gave up, just writing it on my allergy bracelet. It got worse from there. 

We were put in a room with no pillows (forget my neck — I wanted to elevate my leg), no ice pack, and no way to press a button or get ahold of a nurse. Once the nurse finally came in, he rattled off a list of things it could be, and possible solutions. Not so with the doctor — he gave me more percocet (despite the fact that I told him I already was ON narcotics to handle the pain), and said that if I didn’t have a blood clot (which I didn’t), then it wasn’t an emergency, and it didn’t matter. No offer to drain my knee, or deal with the fact my foot was as large as my calf.  In fact, when I pointed out I thought my allergic reaction to the red in my tattoo might be infected, he told me “no, that’s just the ink spreading out.” I had circles of reddish-purple irritation ONLY around the red leaves, yet his brilliant answer was that the ink was spreading out. Right.

Finally, after the ultra sounds (negative for blood clots), and waiting for another 3 hours with no nurse checking on me (no one ever asked me my pain level — every ER I’ve been to has always asked CONSTANTLY where I’d am with pain), and Q having to ask not once, not twice, but three times just to get a pillow for my knee, I was sent home. I asked the doctor if he’d be willing to drain my knee, or put some sort of anti inflammatory in it, but he looked me in the eye and told me it wouldn’t help. He told me doctor’s don’t like to touch other doctor’s patients. I pointed out my doctor wasn’t in state, so he told me to find a surgeon here, but I’d have a hard time.  I explained back to him what he just said, and asked him to drain my knee, PLEASE. I reminded him that it took forever to get into an ortho as a new patient. He told me later on that he talked to an ortho in the ER, and he had promised to get me in his office in the next few days, and that he was “obligated” by the referral to see me.

I found out the next day when I called that he was under absolutely no obligation to see me, at any point, and that his next “new patient” appointment was more than two weeks away, and that ER doctors (at this ER) lie to their patients about this all the time.

I caused a stink. I explained that this wasn’t just random knee pain, but that I couldn’t even bend my knee enough to sit down on the toilet, that I couldn’t function at all. I called my ortho in Denver; mooses bless him. He was in surgery, but his PA called me back right away, and he texted her from outside the OR with his suggestions (draining/aspirating the knee, and injecting it with cortisone to alliviate the swelling). The PA had the ortho tech call SynVisc to see if this was a common reaction, and they called me back to let me know it was unusual (especially in one knee) but not unheard of. And finally, I snuck in on Tuesday to the Ortho in AZ.

What did he do? He looked at it for about 15 seconds, told me the only thing for immediate relief was to drain it right away, and inject it with cortisone. Surprise. When he drained it, he literally drained almost a full cup of fluid from it.  You know those cups you have to pee in? Full of fluid of grossness from my knee.

Suddenly, I could actually bend my knee. It still hurt, and I still needed the cane, but I could actually put a slight amount of pressure on it without it giving out on me. 

I was so angry at that ER doctor. And then I found out that I knew someone who’d gone to the same ER; he had a blood clot, and they sent him home because it was a “small one.” Two days later, he had an embolism in his lungs. So I guess that not having a cup of fluid drained from my leg isn’t that big of a deal, because it couldn’t have killed me.

But this whole experience made me question how Q viewed me, whether she’d given up, whether she’d finally realized how difficult it was going to be living and dealing with someone like me.  But that’s a whole new post.

-Essin’ Em

Arizona has my job, which I love. I love Fascinations, and my co-workers are awesome. I like our condo that we’re renting. We have made a few friends out here that we really enjoy. I am trying my hardest to find things to do and people to spend time with here, but it’s so hard to go somewhere that just *feels* 100% like I’m home…and then leave.

When I’m in Denver, I have less migraines. I feel less stress, less anxiety. When I start feeling anxious, I just spend some time looking at the beautiful Rocky Mountains, and I can literally feel my body and mind relax. It’s this amazing feeling that I’ve never been able to replicate (although I got close when I lived in Germany). It’s so calming, just to lean up against a tree full of green, starting at the mountains, take in a deep breath, and just live and enjoy it.

When we were there, people from all different communities we’ve been a part of told us how much they wanted us back. Kinksters, queers, friends, former co-workers, former cohorts, musicians, family, you name it; everyone we met (even our favorite waitress at one of our favorite restaurants) told us how much they would like us to come home, home meaning Colorado. It’s so heartening knowing how much we are missed, how much people want us back. Hell, even my orthopedic surgeon told me how much he missed seeing me on a regular basis.

On the contrary, when we were gone, no one from Arizona told us we were missed. No one took the time to fetlife, or facebook, or just text and say “hey, I know you’re in CO, but we’re looking forward to having you back.” We have one set of friends that helped me to find an emergency room when I got back, but that was it. There is no sense of love, caring, friendship or community here. We still feel predominantly like interlopers, annoying people into tolerating us.

Within a year or two, we hope to make it back to Colorado.  Q can’t leave her job just quite yet, as she’s making huge strides in the LGBTQ community, rights, conversation, etc on that campus.  My work has agreed when I moved to transfer me, which is great, since I love it. It’s just so hard to have to wait. To visit, and have that feeling of community, have that feeling of love from others, of the calmness of nature…and then to have to leave it.

Colorado, my heart still belongs to you,

-Essin’ Em

For all the craziness about the wedding, the over blown budget, the (in my mind) ridiculous “corn flower blue” dresses from a store a despise (David’s Bridal), the not being able to plan/attend the bachelorette party (because I’m not living in Denver), the stressed out nights, and all of that;

Congrats to you, my friend. I wish you every happiness in the world (and always have), and now extend that to your new spouse. You and I will not always agree on everything, but today, what you say goes. I hope this day was everything that you wanted it to be, but that it was not, and will not be the best day of your life (if so, you’re marrying the wrong person). I wish you many many many years together, of triumphs and tribulations, of the occasional fight and the amazing make up sex. I wish you everything you want and everything you need, and somethings you don’t ever know you need or want yet.

I wish you a fabulous honeymoon. I wish you an easy time getting that epic dress off. I hope you two continue to build your lives together in the way that is what you want. I wish you as few fights as possible, and as much love as you can get.

Mazel tov, my dear friend, and my love to you always.

Do you want to make your D/s relationship the best it can be for you and your partners?

http://www.fhp-inc.com/passionatebonds.html

Instructed by Midori & Laura Antoniou
Join Marketplace series author Laura Antoniou and educator Midori for a special weekend intensive designed for people who enjoy authentic power dynamics and D/s, who want to consciously create quality relationships that suit their personal hungers & needs in the context of the real world

Event Dates: July 30th through August 1, 2010.
Location: Private Location, Downtown Toronto
Registration now open!
Cost: $450 first person in the order, $400 for each additional individual.
Class size will be strictly limited to allow for a unique quality experience emphasizing individualized attention. Through the unique curriculum and its innovative tools, each individual or relationship unit will create their own customized manual of effective protocol, rules, etiquette and codes of conduct.

Tired of searching for the ultimate guide to your D/s or SM relationship? Do you want to make your BDSM relationship the best it can be for you and your partners?

Join Marketplace series author Laura Antoniou and internationally acclaimed educator Midori for a special weekend intensive designed for real people who enjoy power dynamics and want bring a level of authenticity and quality to their relationships.

Students will learn about the many styles of relationships we enjoy, and, through guided lessons and exercises, will discover their own unique relationship needs and systems. The instructors work closely with each student to help them learn and explore, and there is plenty of time throughout the weekend for personal reflection as well as pure fun!

There are no requirements for experience or expertise; anyone who desires or engages in relationships in which dominance and submission or the expression of power exchange is welcome. Full engagement and participation in the workshop is required; communication and a willingness to fully explore the work is of vital importance. This weekend is excellent for those already involved in such relationships or households of 2 or more people; it’s also ideal for the individual who wishes to gain a clearer concept of their own needs and desires on a solo basis.

For all Disabilities and Sexual Orientations
June 30 – September 22
Wednesdays, 6:30 – 8:30PM
Center for Independent Living, Berkeley, CA
Suggested Donation: $25 per class
Sexuality and intimate loving relationships are a fundamental part of everyone’s life.  This 12-week series is designed for individuals who are living with a disability as well as his or her friends, families, partners and attendants.

You will gain ways to improve:

•      Self-Esteem and Body Image                               
•      Healthy Relationships
•      Delicacies of Kissing and Touch
•      Chronic Pain and Sexuality
•      Sexual Health
•      Practical Tips and Tools for Enhanced Sexuality
•      Solo Sex & Partnered Sex

Our philosophy:
•      Participants will have a chance to experience the support of peers and have an increased sense of community
•      Attendees can experience a sense of empowerment, hopefulness, improved self-esteem and self-confidence
•      Learn new skills and resources to expand knowledge regarding one’s sexuality, sexual health and intimate relationships in a nonjudgmental environment
•      Workshop goals to be achieved through presentation of topics, facilitated sharing and experiential exercises

Limited Space Available.  To reserve your place please email Dr. Biggs at rebiggs@mac.com

For more information go to www.somaevolution.org

Lots of people don’t have fathers; they have lost them physically (due to death, as in the case of my father), or emotionally. They have been estranged, have distanced themselves, have been kicked out due to their identity or relationships, or perhaps they were raised not by mother and father, but just by mother. Or grandparents. Or aunt and uncle. Or uncles.

So if you have a father, one still alive, and in your live, who care about you, and whom you care about, go forth, and wish him a happy father’s day.

But for everyone else, who doesn’t have (or maybe never had) a father, please take a moment to think about someone in your life, someone with masculine energy, who has been a mentor to you, who has been a role model to you, who has been there for you. Perhaps you’re blood related, perhaps not. Who knows when you even spoke to them last. It doesn’t matter. Think about that person (or hopefully, those people) who has cared for and supported you in similar ways to a father, who as been there for you.

Please take a moment to celebrate with them. Maybe that is just a quick email, a handwritten note, or a phone call. Maybe it’s walking into the other room, or maybe it’s placing a long distance call internationally. Maybe it’s a present, maybe it’s dinner, maybe it’s just sitting in some rocking chairs on a front porch. Whatever it is, let them know you recognize them, and thank them for their care, their support, their guidance.

We don’t all have fathers, but every single one of us has had a mentor, a role model, or at the very least, someone older than us (by a day or by 70 years) who has taken us under their wing, and given us care. I want to take that day to recognize and thank these people.

That’s all.

-Essin’ Em

Anything would be greatly appreciated!! I’m out of ideas and no research on the internet has brought up anything useful yet.
Thank you so much!

-Needs Help

Hey N.H:

Thanks for writing.

First of all, you can always continue to get off by yourself, with clitoral stimulation, the way you like it.  Just because you have a partner doesn’t mean that you can’t masturbate anymore.  You can masturbate on your own, you can both masturbate lying in bed together side by side, you can have her play with your hair, neck, breasts, kiss you, etc while you masturbate. Plenty of ways to make that work.

Not everyone likes penetration, and some people like it, but very gently. Lots and lots of women of all orientations don’t get off from penetration.  So there is nothing wrong with either your or your girlfriend — it’s just trying to figure out the puzzle pieces of what feels good to you, and then practicing. A lot :).

Perhaps have her put her hand over yours while you’re masturbating, so she can see exactly where you put it, for how long, etc. Then have her try, with your hand over hers, guiding her in direction and pressure. You’re creating sexual energy and pleasure together, and you’re getting the stimulation you need while she’s helping give it to you.

It sounds like you may have a sensitive cervix. I have one of those – touch it and I want to punch someone. Q, however, likes having her cerix touched. It’s different for each person.  If you’d like, try penetration with toys on your own, but feel around for your cervix first and avoid it. See if that helps.

If you’re enjoying the sex between the two of you, why not use her enjoyable fucking of you as epic foreplay, and then have her watch you as you get off for her, your way at the end, so that everyone has fun and is satisfied.

Let me know if you try these and how they work for you. I wish you luck.

-Essin’ Em

I am a bit sadistic sometimes. Not in the way that you hear/read/see about with serial killers. Not in an evil kind of way (although I do laugh a lot, which might make me seem a little bit more evil). I don’t like hurting people that don’t like being hurt.

When I play with my moose, I like to play rough. I get a little bit more sadistic. Why? Because she makes the most delicious noises when I run my knife across her smooth skin, when I smack my hand across her perfectly formed ass, when I rip the duct tape bonds from her…whenever I do something that I don’t think I’d much like on myself, she makes she squeaky, happy coo-ing noices. She laughs, she smiles, she makes me feel like I am fulfilling her.

When I am with Q, I am a different kind of a sadist. Q doesn’t like pain really, although she occasionally likes her nipples pulled. No, no, I’m much more of a situation sadist with her. Playing with her nipples is a) an instant way of making her horny, but b) is a great way of frustrating her…I like to play with them right before we leave the house, doing it sneakily while we’re out and about, play with her right before we fall asleep. Even though it’s not a pain situation, she makes these delicious moans and squeaks and tries to push me away and we tussle and I love trying to best her. She wins about half the time, I win the other half.

I never really thought of myself as a sadist. I mean, compare me to K, or someone who leaves someone bloody from time with a single tail. No, I’m not in that category.  But that doesn’t *not* make me a sadist per se. I can be sadistic (and very much ENJOY) being sadistic when in the right situation. When I’m teasing Q to the extreme and making her want me and know that she can’t have me at that point in time (because she knows that she can always have me in the end), I feel a rush. When I have my moose in front of me and I’m hitting her or biting her or tickling her, I feel a rush.

I’m not always ready for that side. It’s not always a part of me. It comes and it comes, and a lot of it is based on who I am playing with in that moment in time. Q and Evey (le moose) tend to bring it out in me more than anyone else ever has, and I’m slowly, but surely, learning to embrace this side of myself, this fun, amusing, laughing, fun loving, rush-filled sadistic at times side of me.

Why, my favorite moose of course! That’s right, my secondary play partner/primadary friend from Denver is coming to visit this weekend.

Did I ever tell you how I met? I was having dinner with two members of the kink community; one in Denver, one visiting, and I mentioned I liked fisting.  The gentleman I was with suggested one of his partners was kind of queer, and would probably like fisting.  I smiled and nodded, and kind of let it go.

Later that night, I went to a play party at the RACK Room, to play pinata with my visitor from Utah. We put candy all over her, and beat it off her.  Afterwards, I met Evey, my soon to be moose.  It was one of those “ohhhh, so you’re the girl your partner wants me to meet and possibly fist, right?” moments of complete awkwardness. Remember, I’m incredibly awkward. 

She let me do a spanking and paddling scene with her. It was fun and entertaining.

Since then, we’ve built our relationship in various directions. We’ve played together, I’ve played tic tac toe on her with a knife, we’ve had sex, I’ve tied her up, she’s cleaned my apartment, we’ve cuddled, hugged, chatted, cupped, fired, talked, and much much more. I love her to death, and view her as a partner, even though we’re no longer sexually active.

I can’t wait to see her, and spend the weekend with her. I have many a plan, and look forward to enacting them.

She writes her own blog; Voyeur on Display – you should check it out!

And with that, I’m off to go have fun with my moose! I have some surprises in store.

-Essin’ Em

PS.  Isn’t she adorable?

Happy Half Birthday to Me!

June 9th is my half birthday.  Last year I wrote a whole post about why my family celebrates my half birthday, and why I celebrate it now. This is why my half birthday is important to me.

I’m 24.5, so close to being a quarter century. Close to being able to rent a car for much cheaper, close to having less costly insurance. So what does 24.5 matter?

It matters because I’ve made it this far. I’ve struggled with depression, suicide attempts in the past, mega medical issues, ER visits, pills pills pill and more pills just to function and make it through the day, emotional abuse, sexual assault, the death of my father, and so much more. And yet I am here. Another 6 months. Another period of time where I have not only survived, but prospered.

I have a partner that makes my heart flutter every day. I have a job that makes me want to get up in the morning. I have three lovely and healthy kitties who give me infinite love. I have a roof over my head. I live in a state that is so hot that cars catch on fire, yet I have a place to live with air conditioning, and car with air conditioning, and a job with air conditioning.

As much as I get frustrated with money issues, and the political climate of this state, I am still here. I am lucky. I am growing, and aging, and living my life.

And that, my dear readers, is a reason to celebrate.

So happy half birthday to me!

-Essin’ Em