The Incredible Fantasy of Self-Enlargement.
It's a lazy afternoon, I'm sitting here waiting for a movie to become ready so I can put it on the network for the others in the house, and I'm guilty of overthinking.
I had a saline session last weekend that didn't go as well as planned. Some interruptions, among other things.
But, for as much as I sit and wonder, devising ways to get the saline to flow faster, I have this desirous want for saline infusion to pretty much go mainstream. Just have folks come in, shower up to scrub down, and have a seat in a comfortable chair. You'll feel a little prick or two, and in goes the 0.9% sodium chloride. Give it a bit of time, and off you go, back to your day, waddling because your nutsack is the size of a personal watermelon.
Consider: In my country, we have this rash of mobile and stationary IV clinics, targeting hangovers and the like. For less than $200, I can go in, let them stick a needle in my arm or hand, and give me intravenous fluids. This is a bargain compared to a hospital visit for the same reason.
But what when I want it elsewhere?
There's little supply for this want, and it saddens and depresses me. I just want easy access to safe supplies, and if there were centers that can do the infusion process for you, then god speed to them for making it a thing for us.
I'll keep on dreaming, though. Maybe when I'm 50, it'll happen.