The doctor wants me to get an ultrasound of my testicle. “Really?” This is what I thought when she told me. As if I had not already gone through enough.
I went in to see him because my testicle had been very swollen for half a year. I put it off for as long as I could, but when my testicle started getting in the way of my ability to walk and cross my legs, I decided to go in. He became a she because he was out sick. When they asked me if I didn’t mind seeing a female doctor I told them it didn’t matter to me. A doctor is a doctor is a doctor is a doctor as far as I am concerned. None of them know what the hell they are talking about.
It was bad enough when she asked me to pull down my pants and with a rubber glove on cupped my testicles in the palm of her left hand. As she turned my testicle around with her two fingers like some sort of fidget cube, I prayed to myself not to get an erection. It would be humiliating if I did. I made myself think of my grandmother in her hospital bed and I told myself there was nothing sexy about a female doctor examining your swollen testicle with a powdered rubber glove on. “Get it together man.” This is what I told myself. Fortunately, I succeeded in my efforts but the moment was awkward for both of us.
As I went to pull up my pants she told me not so fast. She asked me if I had ever had a rectal exam as she put some kind of jelly like liquid on the tip of her pointer finger. I told her I had not and she told me to turn around and that there was a first for everything. She told me that she just wanted to make sure that my prostate was ok. “Ok,” I thought. “Well, let’s just get this over with then,” I said.
She told me how to position myself with my pants down against the examination bed. I was a good patient and did exactly what she said. When she inserted her jellied pointer finger into my anal cavity and poked around at my prostate I was surprised to feel a strange sensation of pleasure. It had been a very long time since I had felt the sensation of pleasure and did not expect it to come on so fast when I had a finger up my ass.
She told me that everything felt fine and that I could pull up my pants and I pulled up my pants faster than anyone in the history of human civilization has pulled up their pants. I felt very disturbed by the fact that my prostate exam felt so good but impressed that I was capable of pulling up my pants so fast. I fall in love quickly with any woman who can make me feel sexual pleasure so I tried to avoid developing feelings for the doctor as she explained to me her findings from my testicular and prostate exams.
“I would like you to get an ultrasound of your testicle.” This is what she said. “Really?” This is what I thought but did not say it out loud. I am a very compliant patient. My father was a controlling doctor so I know that more agreeable I am, the better the medical care I get will be. She gave me a number to call to schedule the ultrasound and told me to come back and see her a week or so after I have the procedure done.
It has been a few months now since the time I described above. I am yet to call that number, which I have tacked on the wall above my desk. I look at the number every single day but I don’t call. My wife keeps asking me when I am going to do it and I always say, “Soon.” The truth is I really, really do not want to call.
I have had many ultrasounds before. I have had them done on my chest, knees, foot, hand and the one thing I remember about all those ultrasounds is how good they felt. The warm heat from the ultrasound wand moving around in that jelly like substance all over my skin. It was kind of like a sexual fantasy, which was no sexual fantasy at all. I no longer masturbate or have sex with my wife or anyone else (although I am looking if you know anyone). I have not had a pleasurable sexual experience in a long time. I know that if I get that warm ultrasound wand rubbed all over my testicles, the outcome could be sticky.
Every single time I think about scheduling an appointment this imagine comes into my mind: The technician moving the warm wand around my testicle and me trying really hard not to get an erection. But then I do and both the technician and I feel very awkward. Then I orgasm all over the technician’s hand. How humiliating would this be? No way. Even though I am sure these technicians have experienced this before, I don’t want to be that guy. The pleasure I felt during the rectal examination was enough trauma for me.
But now it looks as if I am walking around with a large golf ball in my pants. My testicle has swollen to unbelievable proportions. I know that when people see me, my enlarged testicle bulging through my pants is the first thing they see. How could they not? My testicle is so large now that it is an obvious sign that something is out of place. All my pants are slim fit and at the rate my testicle is growing, it’s only a matter of weeks before none of my pants fit.
If I could just cut the testicle off to avoid having this ultrasound procedure done, I would. However, self-mutilation is not my thing. I am going to have to adopt an attitude of I Do Not Give A Fuck. I Do Not Give A Fuck if I develop an erection and ejaculate during the ultrasound procedure. I have been telling myself for years that I need to practice Not Giving A Fuck. I Give Too Much Of A Fuck what other people think and I disdain this about myself. It is a horrible way to live because then you go through life never really getting to be yourself. Those who Give A Fuck what other people think, live in bondage. I tell myself that this is a good opportunity to practice Not Giving A Fuck. “Just call and go get it over with,” I tell myself. Don’t Give A Fuck. But I still am yet to call. I am going to put it off for as long as I can because no matter how hard I try not To Give A Fuck, I still fucking do.