I started this WordPress account because I am bored, in bed, and in a lot of pain. Not emotional pain, not moral pain, just good old fashioned testicle pain. Since it’s so horrifying and debilitating, I’ve been reduced to wasting a perfectly good afternoon regaling strangers with TALES OF UROLOGY!
My troubles started last Monday when I jolted out of bed in excrutiating pain located in my southern hemisphere. In a panic I examined myself to find that it felt like someone had tied a knot with the spermatic chord of my left testicle. Upon discovering this, I feinted twice from a pain that’s best described as getting kicked with steel toed boots while suffering from blue balls. Guessing that it was testicular torsion, I had been rushed immediately to the emergency room. They had me answer several awkward questions, and sent me to be examined by a certain Dr. Lemons (I lol’d quite heartily at the appropriatness of that name). By the time he had started poking and proding at my wrinkle satchel, the swelling and pain had subsided making him believe that is was not torsion. This did not stop me from almost flopping off the examination table in pain the second he pinched my gooblies, after which he told me I needed a testicular ultrasound. So they make me waddle down the hall of the ER, still wearing a paper gown, to the ultrasound room. Well, I get there, and discover to my horror that the woman who is to administer this ultrasound smells like a rank combination of fish and sweat. While she was smearing my testicles with goo and rubbing a machine over them, she stared at me in a manner that felt like she was piercing my very soul (which I think would constitute as rape in most states). After that I had to park my sore hips in the waiting room next to a burn victim and a coughing flu patient for the better of two hours, waiting to see what they gathered from the black and white pictures of my nut innards. After staring at the fuzzy waiting room television, I was called into the office to be told that it was a bacterial infection, which my mother took to mean as “STD”. I assured her that I was still a loser, which eased her fears, but I was quite audibly calling bullshit on the bacterial theory. Against my will I had to take a week-long course of antibiotics, which made me sick as a mofo, untill I could see my urologist. Well I did eventually get around to seeing him, he told me that I was right in calling bullshit, that I did have torsion, and that I needed surgery. At this point I was quite scared, so I asked him what the surgery entailed in order to ease my fears. Unfortunately it was not exactly a soothing explaination, “Oh it’s no big deal, essentially we’re just going to tack your testicles to your scrotum!” In case you’re wondering, yes, it hurts just as badly as it sounds. I had the surgery on Monday, it’s now Wednesday and I’m still bed-ridden and groaning like a beached whale. The good news is that if I hadn’t gotten the surgery, I would have run the risk of losing a testicle. The bad news is that… Well, the rest of it is pretty much all bad news. I’m on vicodin for the pain, so I’m pill’d out of my skull, I have to stay in bed pretty much 24/7, and go figure that having hurt testicles makes everything else hurt as well. So, in conclusion, testicular torsion is pretty much as horrifying as it sounds.
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