March 6, 2018

Listen: I really, really don’t want to be “that guy” who is mostly known for subjecting my man-parts to random feats of scientific experimentation. But the virality of the recent “I injected stem cells into the dick” (popularized million-folds on the internet by media like this Joe Rogan podcast, this Gizmodo article, this Men’s Health magazine piece and this Cosmopolitan article) article has sparked plenty o’ questions from gentlemen who are justifiably curious about everything from the efficacy to the affordability of the procedure. 

Thing is, this kind of stem cell procedure is pretty top-of-the-totem-pole stuff. Let’s face it: it’s spendy (north of 8K to really nail the whole procedure start-to-finish, from extraction, to stem cell growth and banking, to injection), it’s fringe and in reality, it’s mostly indicated and studied for erectile dysfunction and not for the average dude who just wants to have mind-blowing or better sex.

On the flipside, if you wanted similar results to a stem cell dick injection, but instead wanted to opt for a much more well-studied and medically-accepted procedure, then you may want to keep reading…

Enter Dr. Richard Gaines

I placed my hand on the handle of the glass door leading into the medical clinic, took a deep breath, and glanced at my crotch. “You ready for this, little fella?”

At that point, I wasn’t quite what sort of adventure my nether regions were about to embark upon. But just a month prior, I’d committed to visiting, on my trip back from a yoga retreat in Costa Rica, an anti-aging and sexual therapy clinic called “GAINSWave“ in Aventura, Florida (with clinics now scattered across the country), with plans to subject myself to a fancy, new sound-wave therapy protocol called “extracorporeal shock wave therapy.”

When GAINSWave called to offer me a complimentary, guinea-pig trial of the procedure, they claimed that, within a quick 20 minute procedure, they could enhance one's sex life, build entirely new blood vessels to the genitals, fix libido and sexual issues, eliminate erectile dysfunction, and increase size and vascularity – all without the use of Cialis or Viagra. We’re talking a penis pump on steroids.

How could I say no?

Upon stepping into the clinic, I was welcomed by a stand of colorful brochures advertising fringe medical procedures like the P-Shot (literally, a shot of growth factors into your dick), the O-Shot (same thing, but for the ladies), a smattering of hormone injections, and of course, sound wave therapy for the crotch.

Just like at the doctor’s office, a bespectacled receptionist smiled, checked me in, and handed me a bottle of chilled water along with…

…a horse-sized syringe of white penis-numbing cream. “The nurse will be right out.”

I nodded and gulped, staring at the syringe in my hand. Before I had time to take a swig of water, a side door swung open and a nurse stepped out. Not your typical blue frock-donning homely hospital glaring like Nurse Ratched, mind you, but more like Jessica Rabbit decked out in a full-blown white sexy nurse outfit, cherry red lipstick, short pleated skirt, hair pulled back in a bun: the works.

She escorted me to the office of – don’t snicker – Dr. Richard Gaines. That’s right: Dr. Dick Gaines is the name of anesthesiologist turned anti-aging physician who has patented the GAINSWave technology nationwide (he is also a former podcast guest). After he interviewed me for over an hour about my hormones, my libido, my sleep, and a host of other factors that made me feel like a retiree checking into a nursing home, all I could say was:

“Look, doc, my equipment works fine. I just want to go from good to great. Do-able?”

He grinned the grin of a sixty-plus-year-old doctor jacked up on growth hormone and testosterone. “I think you’re gonna be pretty happy. Let’s get that numbing cream on, shall we?”

I grimaced, half-expecting him to snatch the syringe from my clutch and rip my pants off right there. But instead, the door of his office opened and the hot nurse stepped back in. “Mr. Greenfield, come this way.”

She escorted me to a white-washed medical examination room with a table, a stool, a pile of space-age equipment, and a rack full of medical gowns. “Apply the numbing cream everywhere on your penis and testicles. I mean everywhere. And put on one of those gowns.  I’ll be back in a few minutes. You can read this if you finish early.” With that, she handed me a brochure for “GAINSWave”, cover adorned with the smiling face of Dr. Dick, and walked out of the room.

I set the brochure down on the table, pulled down my pants, and squeezed a quarter-size dab of numbing cream onto my hand. Reaching down into my crotch, I smeared it everywhere. There was still a half syringe of cream left, so I stretched my fingers back and smudged a bit on the asshole and that soft spot underneath my balls. Just in case, I thought, nervously glancing at the wires, tubes and wands scattered around the room, I’m going in with full deflector shields activated.

Then, while waiting for the cream to kick in or my dick to fall off, I finished getting fully undressed, pulled on a thin, cotton gown, sat down on the exam table and began to peruse the brochure she handed me.

The brochure spelled it all out. Apparently, the science behind the technology involves something called low intensity shockwave therapy. Shockwave therapy has existed in modern medicine for decades and has primarily been used as a treatment for lipoatrophy (localized loss of fat tissue) and to break up kidney stones using high frequency acoustic waves. About fifteen years ago, researchers in Europe realized that by using lower intensity acoustic pulse waves, they could also apply these same waves to the penis without damaging the skin or organs. Based on this trendy breakthrough of kidney doctors blasting their gonads with sound waves, physicians were eventually able to treat erectile dysfunction at its root source: poor blood flow.

When the acoustic pulse waves are applied to the penis (or the vagina), they supposedly break up micro plaque and also create a micro-inflammatory process that releases nitric oxide, a vasodilator and the same chemical induced via the consumption of stuff like Viagra or Cialis. Over the course of eight to twelve weeks after the procedure, new blood vessels in the genitals are supposed to grow, a process known as “neovascularization” (also apparently known as penile vasculogenesis, which in my opinion could be the most handy phrase I’ve learned in the past few weeks).

Anyways, there are three primary segments of the population who would theoretically benefit from something like GAINSWave: 1) Men with a true medical condition such erectile dysfunction (ED) or Peyronie’s Disease (an odd curvature of the penis due to scar tissue); 2) men who can still get an erection, but not like when they were in their 20’s; 3) men who want to optimize their bodies (biohackers like me) and are looking for preventative treatment.

It makes sense. Not everyone wants to “spoil the mood” by having to swallow a little blue pill every time they want to have sex. Plus, many men want a more holistic approach or can’t even take PDE5 inhibitors (this would include pills such as Viagra, Cialis, Levitra) due to many factors like high blood pressure or prostate problems. Unlike these pharmaceuticals, the purpose of GAINSWave isn’t to act as a band-aid but is instead to fix the root cause of erectile dysfunction issues, which is poor blood flow.

Over 40 scientific studies suggest that this therapy might be more effective than other treatments, including medications and really expensive penis pumps. But thanks to the overcrowding of the sexual performance industry by pharmaceutical and supplement companies, there were no standardized protocols, machines, or training programs until dear Dr. Dick designed his patented method of bringing this technology to the masses. You can read more about the science and clinical research behind this therapy in this fascinating Urology Times article (just in case you, like me, don’t happen to possess a coffee table full or Urology Times magazines).

As a bonus, these same shockwaves also “wake-up” dormant stem cells in the penis, which is supposed to lead to improved erectile function and enhanced tissue growth. In other words, GAINSWave therapy may also increase the size of the penis.

While I contemplated how much larger my penis would actually get and whether I’d need to upgrade my boxer-briefs, the nurse walked back in. “Ready?”

“Um. Yeah. I think it’s…” I looked down at the front of my gown. “…you know, the stuff. The numbing stuff. It’s kicking in.”

It was indeed kicking in. My fingers were numb. My crotch was numb. So numb, in fact, I wouldn’t have known if my genitals had dropped off and were piled in a quivering heap at my feet.

She smiled. “OK, let’s do this.”

With that, she laid me back on the examination table with my legs fully spread eagle, and with zero hesitation, grabbed my dick and flopped it out of the way of my balls. I could barely feel her maneuvering my junk, but could tell there was some serious rearrangement going on down there. Then she reached for a giant, vibrator-like wand hanging beside the exam table.

“Here we go!” She looked excited. I wondered what course of medical classes a nurse must go through before being allowed to become a professional dick-shocked. Then she flipped on the unit and started jack-hammering.

Drrrr. Drrrr. Drrrr.

The sensation was as if someone had just placed my entire genitalia between to high-fidelity speakers, then turned on Nine Inch Nails to full blast. There was shaking, an intense vibration and the loud rat-a-tat-tat of the dick wand as she worked at me like a welder for the full twenty minutes of the protocol. I laid back and stared at the ceiling, thoughts racing through my head.

Do I have a boner?

Why is she smiling?

Do I have a boner?

I wonder if I can buy one of these wands for my coffee table.

I really hope I don’t have a boner.

Just before she finished, I sat up slightly and peeked around my folded-up gown. I had to know whether I was embarrassing myself with a full-on fatty spiking up towards the nurse. But my dick was flaccid. No boner. Phew. Just a pinkish-red hue from being attacked by numbing cream and blasted by sound waves.

And then it was over. She stood up, smiled and thanked me for being a good patient. Then she walked out, and I imagined her waltzing into the examination room next door to work on the next old retired Florida golf devotee with a limp snake in his pants.

Just before I left, the receptionist smiled at me. “I hope it went well. Do you have a woman to be with tonight?”

Hand on the door, I stopped in my tracks.

A woman? I thought of my wife 3000 miles away in Washington state. That wasn’t going to happen. I envisioned myself rolling around my Holiday Inn Express hotel room bed in some kind of a raging sexual spasm, trying to keep my balls from exploding before my flight home.

“Uh, I have dinner with my Grandma tonight.”

It was true. My only plan was dinner at the Cuban restaurant with my 90-year-old Grandma.

“Well, just be ready for some new sensations once that cream wears off.”

I nodded, and groin still senseless from the numbing cream, hopped in an Uber and headed off to have dinner with Grandma.

It was about halfway through my plate of pulled pork, fried plantains, black beans and rice, deep in a conversation about diabetic glaucoma with Grandma, that I felt something twitch in my loins. The cream was wearing off.

And then it happened.

Sitting right there across my wrinkled old granny, I popped a tent in my pants. Just like a fifteen-year-old boy. Thanking myself for pulling on my tight jeans before heading to the restaurant, I sat it out for a moment, then excused myself to the restroom, ducked into a stall and pulled down my pants to take a glance at what was happening down there.

Holy-moly.

My penis was venous. Big. Throbbing. A porn-star-esque mass of quivering tissue.

Things got interesting from there. I finished dinner, gave my Grandma an awkward hug goodbye while keeping my crotch a respectable distance from her body. Back at the hotel, getting to sleep was a bit difficult, but, pillow tucked under my boner, I managed to settle myself down and nod off. I woke just a couple hours later with what I can only imagine folks in the highly respectable scientific and anti-aging community would deem a “raging nocturnal penile erection”.

I managed to fall back asleep (possibly with the assistance of a bit of self-administered banana buffering) but woke again in the mid-morning to pee, once again with an enormous tent popped under the sheets. When I woke the next morning deep in a pleasant dream that involved nurses and fancy Cuban mojitos, my experience replicated just about every morning I had experienced as a fifteen-year-old boy: big, healthy, vascular, hard morning wood.

Geez. This stuff works.

I pulled on the tightest underwear I could find in my travel duffel, then headed to the airport.

Is That All She Wrote?

Ultimately, the effects of the sound-blasting stuck with me for a full month, day-in and day-out.

Viagra-like hard-ons? Check. Vascularity and size? Check? A satisfied, albeit exhausted wife? Check.

More than a month later, I gradually settled back down to “normal”, which falls into the approximate timeline the good folks at GAINSWave suggested to me. So I was no longer a poster-child for the mutant Avenger with gonadal superpowers, but Dr. Dick did email me a few weeks later to check-in, and to see if I want to come back down his way for a P-shot.

Perhaps, I tell him. Perhaps.

And then I make a mental note to arrange dinner reservations in Miami with Grandma.

I'm Back, Baby

Two months later, as I pulled my rental car into the parking lot of the familiar whitewashed brick building emblazoned with the GAINSWave logo, a sense of déjà vu washed over me, or more specifically, over my tense, nervous crotch area. It had indeed been some time since I had visited this magical place. As you now know, in my previous foray to the clinic, I’d undergone a special treatment referred to as “extracorporeal shock wave therapy”, a quick 20-minute procedure that promises to enhance one's sex life, build entirely new blood vessels to the genitals, fix libido and sexual issues, eliminate erectile dysfunction, and increase size and vascularity – all supposedly without the use of pharmaceuticals, supplements or gas station dick pills.

But on this very special day, the ensuing viagra-like hard-ons, spontaneous nocturnal erections, vascularity, size and a satisfied albeit exhausted wife, had spurred me to visit dear Dr. Dick Gaines clinic for a second time.

But this time I meant business. Getting my dick shocked with high-frequency sound waves was no longer adequate for my curiosity. So I, in a sacrificial display of glorious guinea-piggedness for my manhood, was now about to embark upon the next level of sexual enhancement and dickperimentation: not just sound therapy, but also a temporary nerve block for my penis, followed by a “P-shot”.

Should your eyebrow now be heavily raised, please allow me to add the term P-shot to your vernacular. P-shot is short for “Priapus shot”, named for the Greek god of virility. It incorporates the harvesting and injection of one’s own plasma enriched growth factors, also known as PRP, into specific areas of the penis, which then allows for a man’s own blood-derived growth factors to rejuvenate the penis. If you witnessed the vampire facelift of Kim Kardashian or you’ve heard of the magical elixir that professional athletes get injected into their joints, then you should know that this is the same stuff. But rather than getting shoved into a celebrity’s face or an inflamed tennis elbow, it’s simply getting jammed into the dick. And yes, there is also a version for the woman in your life called the O-shot.

When I arrived at the clinic, I was immediately thrust into the familiar experience I’d undergone on my previous visit, beginning with the office secretary handing me a giant, horse-sized syringe of numbing cream, with specific instructions to smear the cream everywhere on my penis and testicles. As before, I covered the bases, basting like a birthday cake every last square inch of my nether regions, including my trembling perineum and asshole – because you just never know what might need to be numb.

Deflector shields activated, I laid back on the examination table, jacked down my drawers, and waited patiently for the nurse practitioner to arrive, as my crotch slowly entered into a blissful state of senselessness. But it was Dr. Dick himself who showed up first, a handful of needles, syringes and blood-collection tubes in his hand.

“Glad to have you back, Mr. Greenfield.”

I swallowed nervously, eyeing the tubes, then crossed my legs and extended my hand towards him. “Glad to be back…Dick.”

It wasn’t until after he grabbed my hand and gave it a firm shake that I wondered whether I’d actually wiped all the numbing cream away. The last thing I wanted was a numb-handed physician sticking a needle into me.

He held up one of his blood collection tubes and smiled. “You didn’t get this PRP treatment done before, so here’s how it works: I’m going to draw a small amount of your blood. While you get your sound therapy, I’ll stick this into a specialized centrifuge that will separate the stem cells and growth factors from the red and white blood cells. What is left is the super-concentrated, super-healing Platelet Rich Plasma: a penis enlargement shot that I’m going to inject–“

“Yeah, into my dick. I read the brochure. I’ve never had a shot there before. How much does it hurt?”

He grinned again. This guy likes his job too much. I gulped, bracing myself for his words.

“You won’t feel a thing because I do a nerve block with this.” He held up another long needle. “It’ll be just a little prick. Heh. Get it?” While I forced a courtesy smile and pondered whether the numbing cream would be a formidable opponent for the size of the needle, he proceeded to extract an entire tube of blood from my forearm.

Then, clutching my precious blood in what appeared to be a fully functional, non-numbed hand, Dr. Gaines disappeared out the door and to the lab, replaced by an attractive, young nurse who waltzed into the medical examination room and went straight to business. Acting as casually as though it were my arm or leg, she grabbed my dick and flopped it out of the way of my balls. Now that the numbing cream had kicked in, I could barely feel her maneuvering my junk, but could tell there was some serious rearrangement going on down there. Then she reached for a giant, vibrator-like wand hanging beside the exam table.

“Here we go!” She flipped on the acoustic sound wave unit and started jack-hammering, while I wondered how she explained the nitty-gritty details of her professional dick-shocking job to her friends and family.

Drrrr. Drrrr. Drrrr. Just as before, the sensation was as if someone had just placed my entire genitalia between two high-fidelity speakers, then turned on Nine Inch Nails to full blast. There was shaking, an intense vibration and the loud rat-a-tat-tat of the dick wand as she worked at me like a welder for the full twenty minutes of the protocol. I laid back and stared at the ceiling.

Should I ask her about the weather?

How her day is going?

What she had for breakfast?

Eggs and sausage perhaps?

Too nervous to distract her from her job, I finally resorted to responding to emails on my phone while my crotch shook and shuddered. After twenty minutes, the sound-wave party of the day’s therapy was over. My penis still a pinkish-red hue from being attacked by numbing cream and blasted by sound waves, I laid back and waited for part two – the part I was admittedly a bit more apprehensive about: the dreaded P-shot.

Dr. Gaines entered the room again. In one hand, he now held two small syringes – both jam-packed with concentrated, centrifuged growth factors from my own blood.

“This one is for the left side and this one is for the right side.”

In his other hand, he held a larger, more foreboding syringe. “And this is the nerve block.”

I swallowed and nodded. He spread my legs a bit wider. Then…

…jam. There, it happened. For the first time in my life, a needle had been injected straight into the upper meaty part of my delicate schlong.

“That’s it. You’re done. Just a little bit of pressure, huh?”

I grinned, proud of my Spartan-like resilience. “Yeah, not bad. Just some…pressure.” And a near panic-attack you’d hit a crucial orgasm nerve. “Now what?”

“Next the plasma goes in. Ready?”

I nodded, a bit relieved that the needles didn’t actually go into my pee-hole (the urethra is an orifice I tend to heavily protect), and were instead being poked into actual flesh. Then, as I watched with nerve-blocked curiosity and shock-waved bliss, he plunged the needles in and proceeded to fill my entire dick with growth factors.

As he finished the injection, the nurse walked back in, holding a rectangular black box emblazoned with the GAINSWave logo. She handed it to Dr. Gaines, who ripped it open like a little boy tearing into a Christmas gift.

“And this, Ben, is your brand new toy. Ever used one of these before?”

I eyed the giant plastic canister he pulled out of the box – a canister complete with a mini-USB port and a fancy set of buttons on one end.

“Um…is that–“

“–a penis pump? Yep. A digital one. It’ll automatically adjust pressure and intensity without you doing a thing. You get to use it twice a day for ten minutes for the next thirty days to increase blood flow and induce even more microtears that will give your treatment the full effect.”

I frowned at the idea of microtearing my manhood even more, but at this point, there could be no turning back. And so, for the first time in my life, I allowed my penis to be pulled inside a pump, then stared in wide-eyed amazement and wonder as my needle-abused, shocked dick stretched and grew inside the tube to over ten inches. “Wow.”

“Yep. Pretty cool, huh?” Dr. Gaines flipped the pump off, slipped it back into the box and extended his hand towards me. “It’s been a pleasure, Ben. Prepare to perform like a rockstar for the next couple months!”

I looked at his thick hand, wondering how many other man-crotches it had touched that day, then reached forward and gave it a light shake. “Thanks, man. It’s been a pleasure.” A pleasure bleeding, getting blasted, injected three times and having my schlong stretched like silly-putty. Let’s hope this works.

Four hours later, back at my hotel room, I awkwardly fumbled with the pump, trying to remember how they’d put me inside it at the clinic. I oriented my penis just right and flipped on the button. Schloop. I sat for ten minutes as it whirred, hummed, buzzed and sucked me up to a shockingly high, self-satisfactory ten-inch mark.

Then, a few minutes after I removed the pump and about exactly when the last drops of numbing cream wore off, it happened. My penis became venous. Big. Throbbing. A porn-star-esque mass of quivering, hard tissue.

After I fell asleep that night, I woke with an enormous tent popped under the sheets. When I woke the next morning, apprehensive about whether I’d killed all my penis nerves or done lasting damage to my dig, I was pleasantly surprised to take a peek under the sheets and see big, healthy, vascular, hard morning wood.

And the best part? The orgasms. The marathon-like, multi-minute, toe-curling, bed-shaking orgasms. The kind of orgasm I know is good when my wife comments that she’s a bit envious. But you know what, darling? You go get your precious woman-parts shook, shuddered and shot-up with your own blood. Go put the work in. This growth-factor enhanced nether region didn’t just materialize from thin air, but rather is the result of a stiff upper lip, lots of needles, and the handy work of dear Dr. Dick.

Heck, as a consummate multi-tasker, I may or may not have written this article hunched over my desk with a penis pump suspended betwixt my thighs, it’s automated digital engine sucking away at my ding-dong.

Summary

Here's the deal: I am not a doctor and this is not to be taken, interpreted or construed as medical advice. Please talk with a licensed medical professional about this. These are just my own personal thoughts and not a prescription or a diagnosis or any form of healthcare whatsoever.

But should you want to experience raging penile vasculogenesis yourself at any of the fine GAINSWave clinics scattered across the country, simply click here to go to the GAINSWave.com website to find a provider near you. Mention this article or my name and save 30% off your first treatment. 

Enjoy.