Given that the usual answer to the question 'How are you today?' Is: 'not too bad!' You can probably see why the following blog has not been very easy to write.
During the first week of October I first noticed what can only be described as a lump on my left ball. I don't check down there too often but I do check and in some ways I was pleased I'd spotted it because you never quite know if you're looking in the right places.
Being fairly stoic about these sorts of things I put it to the back of my mind but I made an appointment with the doc PDQ.
I'm not quite sure what I was expecting but the doc was a bloke probably about the same age as me. He asked me what the problem was and, being fairly embarrassed by this time I decided to go all hearty: 'Well, doc, there's no easy way to say this, but I think I've found a lump on my left nut...'
His response took me a little by surprise: 'Hmmm... anything else you want to talk about?'
'Errrr... errrr... no, not really.' Isn't that enough? I thought to myself.
Next stage was the inspection. Stand up, drop the ol' trousers and let everything hang free. Hmmm... a strange little moment of my life; another fella rummaging around amongst my gentleman's area.
AND he was giving me a running commentary, whilst I was standing there with my face flaming red.
'Yes, that's pipework... hmmm... epidermis, one ball higher than the other. That's normal. Ah... here it is. Yes, yes, quite squidgy... hmmm.'
Bloody hell! What was going on down there?
'Okay,' says the doc, 'You can pull your trousers up. Listen, you're 46 so nearly too old for testicular cancer but I'm very cautious about things like this.
'I'm almost certain it's a cyst but I want to make sure so I'm going to arrange an urgent appointment with the Ultrasound Department and they'll tell for certain.'
Urgent? 'Are you worried, then?'
'Well, no, but it's best to get seen quickly.'
A couple of days later my appointment came through. Two weeks time, 9.15am.
That was this morning.
I had successfully put the lump out of my mind until today but I have to say I was nervous as I turned up at the clinic and I was expecting a wait to get the results after today.
I fetched up and 9 and was taken straight into a room. A nurse (heaven help me and preserve me from a flaming face and more embarrassment) told me to drop me trousers to mid thigh, lay on the bed and use a pad of tissue to keep me old chap out of the way.
'I'd tell you to relax,' says she, 'but I know you won't...' Damn right I won't.
'I'll go and get Mrs Sharkey, the consultant.'
Urgent appointment? Consultant?
Now I was getting really worried.
Mrs Sharkey turned out to be about 35 years old and was heavily pregnant. I don't know why that bothered me, but it did!
So, ultrasound is easy. A bit of cold gel and about 10 minutes of searching. But then the consultant wanted to look at my kidneys too. Why?
The whole thing was over in 15 minutes and the consultant immediately gave me good news:
'Well, your GP was right, it's a small cyst. No need for any treatment unless it grows or becomes painful. The veins on the left are a bit prominent but that's nothing and your kidneys are perfect.'
Oh my God, the relief.
It was amazing. I had such an outpouring of relief that after I came down from it I felt really grumpy!
And so, finally, to the moral of the story:
If someone like me can deal with the embarrassment and uncertainty of going through a diagnosis with a number of different people fiddling with my under carriage, then so can you.
Check your balls and if there's anything untoward, get it checked out.
The embarrassment lasts 5 minutes, the results and relief stay with you forever.
It's Movember. Here's my Mo and a link to my Just Giving Page. If you could spare a couple of quid, that would be great.
Richard
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