Tragedy Of the Highest Order II: Tragedy Averted
You will all be glad to hear that my testicles are not, at present, rotting out of my body. Though they do occasionally still ache, I have visited a physician and he has assured me that there is nothing to indicate that they are riddled with the black and cancerous holes that I feared.
In fact, the doctor was quite pleasant, circumstances considering. He even blushed like a schoolgirl when he asked me to expose my Linus and my two Charlie Browns. He told me about a documented phenomenon that had never been observed, only guessed at. He suggested that I had epididymal spasms, periodic tightenings of the muscles surrounding my testes. In short, my traitorous sack was squeezing the balls it had sworn to protect. Still, there was no danger and I was greatly relieved.
And yet, there was a problem.
The kindly physician suggested that, just to be on the safe side, I should have my urine tested. This is where the actual problem occurs.
I couldn't urinate. I was dry. Empty. Lacking. I was so empty, in fact, that the clinic suggested I come back any time the next day. Anytime I had to urinate, they would be ready to catch it in a cup. Anytime I had to pee, the kind people at the clinic would be prepared. Before 4pm, anyway. Before 4pm, they are most accomodating.
The next day, I drank beverage after beverage. I filled my stomach with liquids. I was as tight as a drum.
I was also too far away from the clinic to make it before I had to relieve myself. Another wasted opportunity; I called and apologetically rescheduled for the next day.
The next day, I drank a number of beverages, but not as before. I had a little bit of tea, a little bit of coffee--not too much of anything. I arrived at the clinic in a sweat. If I couldn't perform, I didn't know if I could ever show my face again.
Fortunately, everything went out without a hitch.
I washed my hands and went on with my life.
In fact, the doctor was quite pleasant, circumstances considering. He even blushed like a schoolgirl when he asked me to expose my Linus and my two Charlie Browns. He told me about a documented phenomenon that had never been observed, only guessed at. He suggested that I had epididymal spasms, periodic tightenings of the muscles surrounding my testes. In short, my traitorous sack was squeezing the balls it had sworn to protect. Still, there was no danger and I was greatly relieved.
And yet, there was a problem.
The kindly physician suggested that, just to be on the safe side, I should have my urine tested. This is where the actual problem occurs.
I couldn't urinate. I was dry. Empty. Lacking. I was so empty, in fact, that the clinic suggested I come back any time the next day. Anytime I had to urinate, they would be ready to catch it in a cup. Anytime I had to pee, the kind people at the clinic would be prepared. Before 4pm, anyway. Before 4pm, they are most accomodating.
The next day, I drank beverage after beverage. I filled my stomach with liquids. I was as tight as a drum.
I was also too far away from the clinic to make it before I had to relieve myself. Another wasted opportunity; I called and apologetically rescheduled for the next day.
The next day, I drank a number of beverages, but not as before. I had a little bit of tea, a little bit of coffee--not too much of anything. I arrived at the clinic in a sweat. If I couldn't perform, I didn't know if I could ever show my face again.
Fortunately, everything went out without a hitch.
I washed my hands and went on with my life.
posted by jw at
2:53 PM
2 Comments:
My oh my. But you forgot to say...is there a cure for this epididymus problem (or problem epididymus, if you will)?
There is no known cure. He did offer me painkillers though. I declined.
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