Post script January 13, 2002

It's now been a little more than three years since my chest surgery. I have sensation back in the left nipple, but no where near the sensitivity that I had before the surgery. I was convinced that I was hardly sensitive at all until this delightful femme taught me the error of my ways. Nipple sensation in the left nipple has increased in leaps and bounds.

Not, so on the right. In fact, the skin surrounding approximately 2 inch diameter from the nipple is still numb. I can feel pressure, just not sensitivity. I realize that I am not describing this rather well. While I can not feel sensation, such as the warmth of someone's breath, I can feel a slight pressure of someone is actually running their finger along the skin. There are certain skin surfaces which lack sensation all together.

However, sensitivity is continuing to gradually increase bit by bit. Some of this will require work on my part. Teaching my body to respond to different kinds of pressure - reconnecting the neural pathways. Nothing sexual is required. Simply touch. Running my hand down the right pec. Noticing where I have surface sensation and where I do not. Where the slightest touch feels uncomfortable and then honing in on that area where there is slight pain and discomfort and getting it to respond with something other than "pain". It's a process of desensitization and sensitization all over again.

I do not regret having surgery or the results. Things came out spectacularly. The scars are barely noticable. I am the one that knows that they are there. I knew what the risks were going in and fully appreciated and accepted them. The lack of nipple sensation has forced me to explore other areas and surfaces of my body. One learns to make due. Memories fade until you are left with an overall essence, a distilled sensation. After awhile you simply forget what it once felt like and begin to connect with what it feels like now. That is the trick, the tip, the secret. To live in the now rather than in the past.

I paid a price. An infinite number of sensations for a finite number of them. And yet, the ease at which I enter mens sex spaces, the ability to take off my shirt in mixed company, the contour of my chest, etc., have provided the most incredible freedoms imaginable.