Nuts

I have been very thankful that I have lived my whole life without anyone saying, "He fits the description." Not much of an accomplishment being a white male from suburbia. The only time I think I fit the description is if we are talking about some sort of physical ailment. I have a cough, must be pneumonia. My stomach hurts, must be an ulcer. Eyelash in an eye, glaucoma. Now to be frank, about a month ago my right ball started to hurt. I naturally assumed I fit the description for the 30 year old male who discovers he has testicular cancer. I fit the age group. I am a man. Whenever I get something like this in my head the only thing that is going to make it better is me asking every person I meet what they think, that and actually going to the doctor. After exhausting my friend resources, I knew it was time for the experts to get involved.

Well, today I had my first appointment with a Urologist. As expected I left being reassured I was cancer free. Everything has a price though. I think the doctor saw that I was a hypochondriac and that I could be easily messed with. First I was told to drop my pants and sit on the exam table. As I am doing so, the doctor leaves the room but doesn't bother closing the door. There I am sitting on a cold slab of metal with my junk hanging out while nurses walk by holding urine samples from 80 year old men. I always pictured having my junk out with a few nurses, but don't be jealous, I can assure you the dream is better than the reality. Poor turtle.

When the doctor came back in the room he had me lay on the table so he could listen to my lungs. Now correct me if I am wrong, but if your balls hurt wouldn't you check there first? Anyway after a thorough breathing test, the doctor finally had me stand up so he could check for hernias, cancer, cysts, etc. Once again, all good. I thought I was free to go home and conjure up some new disease when the doc said "Oh just to be safe, would you please turn around and put your elbows on the table. "MOON RIVER", is the last thing I remember screaming before the doc said "You are fine, clean yourself off and meet me in my office."

A few tissues and some hand soap later I was lectured by the doctor on how I should be careful mountain biking because you never know how that can strain your boys. "Take two advil and get the hell out of my office."

I really need to stop worrying so much.

If anyone needs a good urologist give me a call.