Thursday, 21 July 2011

Visit to the doctors.

When I was 21 I thought I had a lump on one of my testicles. At the time I was in a play and we were in the States (United, of America). After a couple of days of touching myself I decided that it definitely was a lump - a small one - but a lump nonetheless. After speaking with the tour manager (I always kept him up to date with my testicles) I decided to wait until I returned to Britain before seeing a doctor. About a week later I was back home and the lump was still there so I set about booking an appointment. I didn't have a doctor though so had to go through the ball ache (ha!) of registering. It wasn't until about 3 weeks after originally noticing the lump that I actually saw the doctor.

On the morning of the appointment something horrible happened. The lump wasn't there. Do I cancel the appointment? No. It was 8 in the morning. I hadn't been up before 11 for weeks. The chances were, I figured, that my lump was keeping the same hours as me. Once I was showered, dressed and at the surgery the lump would know what was up and make an appearance. Sat in the waiting room, I desperately wanted to know if it had awoken yet but stopped short of feeling myself in public.

Now I'm sat on a chair in front of a doctor. 'What's the problem?' he asks. When people walk in do doctors try and guess what's up with them in their heads? They must do. 'I think I have a lump on one of my testicles' I say. 'Bingo!' he thought to himself. At this point I actually just really hoped I did. 'Ok, well I better have a check, pull your trousers down for me'. Oh, ok, this quick? No pre-amble? Can't we at least get to know each other a little first? I like movies, good food and long walks by the sea. How about you? You're putting on a glove. Right, ok.

In his room there was a curtain. He didn't suggest I stood behind it. So, here I am in the middle of his surgery, my jeans around my ankles and, yep, it's happening now, he's feeling my balls. I look over his shoulder. The blinds are open. Someone walks across the car park.

'Which one was it?'

'The right one. My right'.

Being fresh out of the theatre I nearly said stage right.

'I can't feel anything'

Well, this is embarrassing.

'I think it's a bit further back?'

'Right.... no, I really can't feel anything'. He looks me in the eyes... 'There's nothing there'.

At this point I should give you an idea of his tone. It wasn't a sort of 'looks like you don't have anything to worry about' tone. It was a sort of 'how dare you come in here without a lump on your bollock?!' sort of tone. I think he genuinely thought that I just really really wanted someone to feel my balls. To be fair, I actually did, but not under these circumstances and not a 50 year old Asian man. I pulled up my trousers and thanked him for the most humiliating two minutes of my life. And then I left. There was no... 'come back if you think you have one again' or 'oh well, better safe than sorry'. There was just a very firm... 'Goodbye'.

The lump never returned.

I realise that in my last two blog posts I have written about having a poo and now my testicles. I'm sorry. I will try and keep the next few posts above the waist.

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