Tuesday, April 24, 2012


Warning: This is a story about my testicles.  Proceed with caution.

Every guy knows the indescribable pain of getting hit square in the nuts.  Doesn't matter if it's a baseball, hockey puck, combatant's knee, wayward paw of an overly-enthusiastic German shepherd, you take a shot to the man-biscuits, you're in a world of hurt.

Let me pause here for a quick disclaimer.  Ladies, I know that at this very minute you're shaking your head and muttering under your breath about how no man will ever understand the pain of child birth.  I'm not disputing this.  I'm not suggesting that a Wiffle bat to the gonads compares in any way to popping a nine-pound bundle of goopy flesh out from between your thighs.  You win, I get it.

Anyway, this isn't a story about me getting hit in the jewels.  I was merely raising a point of reference for guys out there about a pain I felt the other day, similar to how your balls feel about a day and a half after you take a direct shot.  A dull ache, uncomfortable but not excruciating.  This had been going on for a couple days, and since I hadn't suffered any trauma to the groin region recently, I was a bit concerned.  So I figured I'd better give the boys a brief inspection.  To my horror, the right nut felt a bit misshapen.  I'm certainly no doctor, but there's not much question that extra-testicular lumpage can be a symptom of something scary.

So I had Theresa take me to urgent care.  She was surprised, as it normally takes an act of Congress to get me to see a doctor.  But as I said, a wacky juevo is not to be taken lightly.

Dr. Nguyen (pronounced, inexplicably, "Win") inspected the area and asked a few questions.

"Any pain when you urinate?"


"Pus-like discharge?"




"Does it hurt when I do this?"


"Okay, could be a couple of things, we're going to have you go downstairs for an ultrasound."

So I went to the ultrasound room and met Carolyn, the whatever-you-call-someone-who-works-in-the-ultrasound-department.  Without any preamble or light "get to know you" conversation at all, she rigged up a hammock-like contraption using nothing but a common white towel, adjusted a certain object that was blocking her view of Heckle and Jeckle, and took a series of photographs.

"Okay, those look pretty good."

"Why thank you."

"I mean, I don't see any unusual masses or anything."

"Ah.  Well, that's good."

The process took about twenty minutes.  After reassuring me that she didn't think the problem was serious, she sent me on my way.  An orderly came down to wheel me back upstairs, according to his badge, the guy's name was Nick.

"So, how'd it go?" he asked.

"Well, Nick, I must say I'm a little disappointed."

"Why's that?"

"When you brought me down here, I saw a lady who got to keep her ultrasound photos.  Carolyn didn't even ask if I wanted to keep mine.  Seems unfair, doesn't it?"

"Should we go back and ask for them?"

"Nah . . . but maybe it would be funny to have her give mine to the next pregnant woman who comes down.  Tell her she's carrying a pair of pudgy twins."

After about an hour, the ultrasound results came back and Dr. Nguyen told me it was probably just a swollen something-or-other from over-exertion.  I told him I've been going to the gym and lifting weights, and he said that could very well be the cause.  So I'm backing off on that for a while, at least until the pain goes away.

I'm 47, and this was my very first "Holy crap, I think I might have cancer" moment.  I'm happy to say it was a false alarm, but it was still scary.

I thought I was gonna go half-nuts.


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Anonymous said...

I had recurring epididymitis in my 20s. Three doctors groped me before the last round of antibiotics did the trick once and for all.

In my late 30s, I had chronic pelvic pain. No doctor could explain it. I don't even think they believed me. Varying pain in different places, none of which were the sort you care to discuss, let alone sit for poking and prodding over. That ended with lots of tests, including a cystoscopy. That fun puts a dull ball ache to shame.

I know the tension that comes from these scares. Been there. Done that.

Enjoyed the humorous recounting. Glad you're okay.

SherilinR said...

this was funny-ish and with a happy ending! so win/win for you. and me. sort of.

Bella said...

keep a check on it, if it persists take another look at perhaps the prostate!

Heff said...

Next time, try lifting the weights using your HANDS, not your nuts :)

Chris@Knucklehead! said...

@Heff: You'd think my personal trainer would've mentioned that. Thanks for the tip.

Jeanne said...

I empathize--I found a lump in my left breast this month.

Fortunately, it turned out to be my belt buckle.

If I were God... said...

This sort of post demands at least two pictures (at least) from different angles so we can judge individually, and a voting box to tally our collective opinions.

Suldog said...

Great closer (and I also loved "Heckle & Jeckle".) Something else you might consider... As I recall from another post, you had a vasectomy, correct? I don't know exactly how your procedure was done, but I had one about 15 years ago and every so often the clamp or whatever was used to close off the flow will, if I get the boys at a bad angle, exert a slightly hurtful pressure. Any chance you've got something similar happening in your plumbing?

lime said...

i feel your pain...well, ok only in a metaphorical sense since i am a girl. but i found lumpy bits in my girls a couple weeks ago and at age 43 it is indeed a "holy crap, do i have cancer?!" moment. glad yours just seems to be a case of overexertion. still waiting to see what mine is but the laughs from your story do me good :)

Kat said...

I'm here from Lime's place via Suldog. Got that? ;)
Very entertaining post with a happy ending. Excellent!
My husband's best friend had testicular cancer and now he's half nuts. hehe (he laughs about it too, so it's okay) And he hates squirrels because he thinks they are nut theiving bastards. ;)
glad all is well!

Craig said...

Yeah, I'm always having trouble with over-exertion of the guys. . . whatchagonnado, y'know? You don't s'pose the eight kids has anything to do with it, do ya? (Other than, you know, generally elevated stress levels. . .)

An' yeef. . . of COURSE the ultrasound tech was a woman, right? But hey, she thinks yer guys are lookin' good, so how bad can it be, eh?

Homemaker Man said...

Achy balls. Not comforting.

So. Cal. Gal said...

Anyone who works with medical machinery is called a Tech. You're welcome...and I'm glad your nuts are still fruitful. Wait. You didn't say they were. Never mind.

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