One Monday in late October 2009, something didn’t “feel right” – there was a tiny little lump; it felt like a lentil – a tiny bump, so small, seemingly insignificant. You could miss it if you didn’t check extremely carefully. That discovery wrecked Monday – my mind went everywhere from “it’s just one of those things” to “it’s probably just some sort of spot” and finally to a crazed “jeez, it’s full-on cancer and I’m going to die”. Being relatively level headed, I knew I needed to get it checked out, so booked an appointment with my doctor.
At this point, I’ve got to ask any guys reading this two questions. First is “when did you last check yourself” and secondly, “why is there a sense of squeamishness about guys doing this”? I spoke to friends about my appointment and while all of them were interested in my well-being, half of them cut the conversation short. Talking about your bits with other guys it seems is a taboo subject, not ‘blokey’ enough unless it’s in the context of how your bits were used on Friday or Saturday night if you got lucky!
Back to the doctors – I have a great practice in Walnut Tree Medical Centre and everyone there I know I can really trust and rely on. Seeing my doctor, she confirmed that she could feel a lump too and we should arrange to get it looked at more closely. She also reassured me that it could be a range of things and testicular cancer is relatively rare – but in any event, treatment is good these days.
Going home from the doctors, I felt a little disappointed that I didn’t have a definitive conclusion as to what was going on, but things take time in this life. I got an appointment set within 3 days for an ultrasound at MK Hospital and waited. Those 3 days were a nightmare, I couldn’t concentrate on work at all but talking with my partner helped immensely. We discussed what it could be – what we’d do if it was the worst case scenario. At least if it was found early, treatment would be more effectively, surely? Most importantly, we realised just how much we love and support each other, even without noticing it day-to-day.
The ultrasound was as you’d expect – just like checking a baby during pregnancy. At the ultrasound, the technician that performs the scan can only comment on the features shown on the screen – they’re not a doctor so can’t give you a diagnosis. I wasn’t ready for that – so I suddenly realised that I’d have to wait another week to see my consultant and find out what was really going on.
The scan showed the lump on my right testicle. From the side on, you could see it, dark in colour on the screen and with a raised profile. Front on, it was an angry dark patch, circular, taunting me. The technician explained, when I asked him to, what he could see. There was increased blood flow to the area of the lump, plus some calcification – harder tissue. Both of these things raised alarm bells in my head. We see these features also in breast cancer. I left, confused, lonely, barely able to concentrate to drive home and still without any diagnosis.
I got home and when I saw my partner, I just collapsed into tears. Uncontrollable floods of tears. Suddenly I realised that having your family and friends around me was going to be the only way to cope with things. I knew that I was going to get a diagnosis of cancer when I saw my consultant.
This post was originally posted on March 26
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