So I Got Circumcised, Huh!

I have been delaying something and I had a million excuses for the delay. I didn’t get circumcised as a Kid despite all the temptations. Growing up, a section of my maternal side were muslims, but this too did not get me to facing the knife. I coasted through life with my foreskin.

Somewhere along the way, circumcision became the hip thing, at least it became the thing that stopped chances of HIV transmission by up to 60 percent. Government and other organization did spread the gossip. It caught on, and the girls too caught on the vibe, given the having sex with an uncircumcised dude puts them at risk of some cancers.

I used to be on the pro-foreskin group. I argued that nature makes no mistakes, so if you have a foreskin there originally, why take it off? Some wondered why then we go ahead to trim hair or cut finger nails if nature makes no mistake? No pretty convincing.

Then at some point, I got fully convinced by the circumcised brigade. But I then had excuses of time, I didn’t have time to recover. But people argued that things have since changed. Now you can get back to work immediately after circumcision. There were even new non-surgical methods to circumcision. I saw a friend who had that non-surgical one but it still came with its shortfalls. I decided if I am to ever get circumcised, it would be the actual surgery.

Of course most of my sexual partners did not make a fuss about the foreskin. Seems a number of them had been experiencing only the foreskins. A few girls here and there would make a quick deal of it, but they never refused to engage because of the foreskin.

The other shortfall with the foreskin is that you have to constantly pay extra attention to the hygiene. You risk dealing with infection after infection so it’s in one’s interest to free the tip.

Then came the lockdown. I thought to myself, what’s the one thing I can do in this lockdown that can make it worth remembering? I was angered at that moment, I had cancelled a million activities. I really needed a comeback to life, something as equally fulfilling for me as the other adventurous activities I had planned out.

I kept on thinking around things such as; “walk to Entebbe”, “walk to Jinja” but all these meant that I would have to book accomodation for two nights to recuperate and prepare for a walk-back. Alternatively, it would mean spending all my time at the final destination until the lockdown is lifted.

Then voila, the eureka moment; “get circumcised.” The moment the idea dropped, I gave it a Hell Yeah. Years back, I read some advice that said, there’s no half, half to things. You must be fully in. If it’s not Hell Yeah, then consider it a No. That advice has served me well. I no longer have to buy time before I accept any request. I either fully accept or gladly reject it.

So within minutes, I looked through my google pages to see which hospitals were open for circumcision. I needed walkable distances. I was determined to be circumcised that evening. Makerere University Hospital, free circumcision everyday, but ummmm you can’t fully trust free things during a lockdown. I call TMR hospital, it’s UGX 500K but then you have to first make an appointment with the surgeon, then have another day to be briefed by the surgeon, then finally have the surgery. That sounded like too much bullshit at that cost. If I am paying 500K, you should actually come find me at my home, circumcise me then go away. Kibuli looked too far. That was out too.

I was stuck, almost frustrated now. I get my phone and call a doctor friend of mine, super experienced, super connected. “I want to get circumcised.” She sounded impressed. Gave me a doctor’s number to call. I ask her; “you mean I can even get circumcised today?” She tells me, “of course.”

Once again, I am energized. I call the number. The doctor tells me he’s overbooked for that day, so we agree on the next day. I couldn’t sleep that night. I went and did full hygiene on that region. I was going to open it up for everyone to see. Impressions count anhaa.

Next morning, I call the doctor aka Surgeon at 8am. He’s not picking. I tell myself, if I don’t do this thing today, I swear I will never bother doing it. Call again at 9am, he picks. Tells me to give him a few minutes to confirm the time. We settle for 11am at a hospital in Ntinda.

By 10:45am I am at the hospital, with my new pairs of briefs. Apparently, I was to shift from boxers to briefs until I had almost fully recovered. Boom, surgeon comes, the 20 minutes of briefing about the procedure, about the recovery, the myths, the questions, everything I need to know. Then it’s time to face the knife.

The numbing injects. Yes, those pricks on the actual penis. After that, the D was numbed. And the surgeon got to work. Within 30 minutes, it was all done, I was asked to raise my head just to see the finished part at the stitching. Then I was bandaged, dressed up and got to the pharmacy for more antibiotics and pain killers. And another injection for the day.

The Doctor gave me a lift home. And I started on the recovery journey… as they say, the rest is history. The Yoruba King got circumcised. Perhaps I will share the recovery journey separately. It’s a story of its own.

But I am glad I had my good years with the foreskin. I enjoyed the times we had together, the escapades. I was in a better position to make the shift to the other world. There’s no definition of a life well lived. You spend a half of it living with a foreskin, and gladly another half without it…

It will be two months without sex, so I can call myself a monk for those weeks…

Let me also say, the blog is changing direction, to a more of my personal experience, a more authentic side of me…