Karmic ball justice
Today I had another man feel my balls, and the sensation is a weird one, not just the physical sensation of my doctors expert and tender fingers - which, despite rumours and photographic evidence, is not something I normally enjoy - but the feeling of something bad happening to me that I didn't actually cause myself.
This thought had occurred to me earlier when, the day before, I was surrounded by a snake pit of second years, a seething mass of unfamiliar rattles and hisses. I was there as a victim of my own ignorance, having to retake missed modules and meet over-procrastinated deadlines, I was jammed at the back of a room full of people I either didn't know, people I have no chance of remembering because I met them drunk, or (in a couple of instances) people I have woken up next to. Uncomfortable to say the least, but, I reflected, as ever self inflicted. The cause of most of my life's discomforts can be traced to one factor - me.
Which is why, when I found an extra lump in my bag of lumps, I was taken aback. I hadn't really done anything to cause it (unless you count karmicly), I always thought I kinda got what I deserved, awkward or uncomfortable situations caused by me, but ultimately suffered by me "a man more sinning, than sinned against" to paraphrase Billy Rattlesticks. But this was different, my first thought was to take a couple of painkillers and wait for it to go away, actually that's a lie, if I'm honest my first thought rather shallowly was "I hope its not cancer, its took me ages to grow my hair". Stupid me had to open my mouth, you would have thought living with four women, I would be reluctant to talk to them about bollocks, more specifically, my bollocks, but not at all. And of course they badgered me to get it checked out, all protest's shouted down and laughed at, it's hard to compare the discomfort of a stranger fiddling with your sack against a smear test.
So I made the appointment, man doctor or woman doctor was the dilemma, it's not as easy as you think. Of course being the red blooded, make-up wearing, testosterone producing manly man that I am, I would obviously prefer to be man-handled by a lady, but would I? What if I got interested as it were? And how would I explain finding the lump in the first place? "Checking myself" is so obviously "playing with myself" that I wasn't sure I could sit there and tell a lady that I was having an adjust and found something I didn't like. Best probley to forget the whole thing altogether.
However as the week wore on a soreness developed, and all sorts of doubts started creeping into my head, I have a history of testicular cancer on my fathers side, the thought of more pain and potential sterility, something that has never bothered me before - I've always joked that the amount of drugs I have took has probably permanently altered my DNA, so if I do have kids they will be blue with extra eyes or something - but the thought of actually never having kids of my own cut me deeper than I ever thought it would, and that bravado shit soon slips away. So fate dealt me a last minute male doctor.
Who, after a protracted and painful examination, told me that it "sometimes just happens, take some painkillers and it will go away on its own" I had to laugh, and not just from relief.
This thought had occurred to me earlier when, the day before, I was surrounded by a snake pit of second years, a seething mass of unfamiliar rattles and hisses. I was there as a victim of my own ignorance, having to retake missed modules and meet over-procrastinated deadlines, I was jammed at the back of a room full of people I either didn't know, people I have no chance of remembering because I met them drunk, or (in a couple of instances) people I have woken up next to. Uncomfortable to say the least, but, I reflected, as ever self inflicted. The cause of most of my life's discomforts can be traced to one factor - me.
Which is why, when I found an extra lump in my bag of lumps, I was taken aback. I hadn't really done anything to cause it (unless you count karmicly), I always thought I kinda got what I deserved, awkward or uncomfortable situations caused by me, but ultimately suffered by me "a man more sinning, than sinned against" to paraphrase Billy Rattlesticks. But this was different, my first thought was to take a couple of painkillers and wait for it to go away, actually that's a lie, if I'm honest my first thought rather shallowly was "I hope its not cancer, its took me ages to grow my hair". Stupid me had to open my mouth, you would have thought living with four women, I would be reluctant to talk to them about bollocks, more specifically, my bollocks, but not at all. And of course they badgered me to get it checked out, all protest's shouted down and laughed at, it's hard to compare the discomfort of a stranger fiddling with your sack against a smear test.
So I made the appointment, man doctor or woman doctor was the dilemma, it's not as easy as you think. Of course being the red blooded, make-up wearing, testosterone producing manly man that I am, I would obviously prefer to be man-handled by a lady, but would I? What if I got interested as it were? And how would I explain finding the lump in the first place? "Checking myself" is so obviously "playing with myself" that I wasn't sure I could sit there and tell a lady that I was having an adjust and found something I didn't like. Best probley to forget the whole thing altogether.
However as the week wore on a soreness developed, and all sorts of doubts started creeping into my head, I have a history of testicular cancer on my fathers side, the thought of more pain and potential sterility, something that has never bothered me before - I've always joked that the amount of drugs I have took has probably permanently altered my DNA, so if I do have kids they will be blue with extra eyes or something - but the thought of actually never having kids of my own cut me deeper than I ever thought it would, and that bravado shit soon slips away. So fate dealt me a last minute male doctor.
Who, after a protracted and painful examination, told me that it "sometimes just happens, take some painkillers and it will go away on its own" I had to laugh, and not just from relief.
posted by Puck at 1:23 PM
6 Comments:
That last paragraph saved my life! I need my Dan...somethings just can't be allowed to expire! Good to hear you're lumpy in a less bad way! :D
ahh my little northen friend, i hope i didnt embarass you in front of your girlfreind.
actally thats bollocks - i had EVERY intention of embarrassing you in front of your girlfreind.
She was actually quite suprisingly meow about it. Some might say quite frighteningly meow about it...
Until the last paragraph I was preparing to read a dire diagnosis. (*breathes sigh of relief*)
At least you had it examined. I'd have to muster courage just to do that...
as i said living with girls, who will go to the docters for anything, it wasnt worth the nagging
ohhh good, nothing wrong my boy's balls.... I think I would have a hard time blowing you if you were to loose one.
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