E R N I E ' S H O U S E O F W H O O P A S S
Today, we're going to talk about my nuts. Or more specifically, my right nut.
You see, about a week ago, I was noticing my right nut was a little tender to the touch. Not bad; I wouldn't say there was any pain per say, but just a little more discomfort than usual when things were getting banged around. I didn't pay much attention to it, just figured I pulled something lifting weights. That is, until this past weekend when I was watching TV and doing an Al Bundy, and what to my wondering eyes should appear, but a lump on my ball! Immediately I'm like, "What in the Jesus H Christ On A Wheat Cracker is This?!"
So I gave myself a little closer inspection and aside from this little hard spot, about the size of a BB, everything looked normal. Everything felt even on both sides, there was no swelling, nothing. But, given (a) I don't have any medical experience, plus (b) pain + lump = bad, plus (c) testicular cancer is the most common form of cancer among males age 15 to 44... I decided I had better get my balls to a doctor ASAP.
So for the remainder of the weekend, my imagination was of course going nuts (hee hee). Logically you can sit there and rationalize that the chances of getting The Big Casino are pretty low, but since it does happen, why not to me? Could I be, "one of those guys?" Could it, "happen to me?" How would this affect my favorite joke, "What's got four legs and three balls? Me and Tom Green!" Would the punch line to the new joke be too long, "What's got six legs and three balls? Me and Tom Green and Lance Armstrong?" Since I shave my head already, would anyone notice if all my hair fell out? Could I save a ton of money on my car insurance by switching to Geico?
All these questions needed answers, and fucking quick. Like always, I don't go to the doc unless my fucking leg is falling off, but you fuck with a guy's plumbing and you play by a different set of rules. First thing Monday morning, I was on the tele booking the first available appointment which was 3:30 that day. Both me and my nuts trembled with anticipation. Would I soon be looking down and seeing only one twig and one berry? Time to find out.
And of course, the receptionist at the doc's office was hot. Of course. "What are you here for?" "Lump in right testicle." "Uh-huh." "So can I get your number?" "I don't think so." I kill some time in the waiting room watching some whores on Jerry Springer debate who loves the redneck guy more, get escorted to a room, and am soon joined by the doc. And for the first in what would be several times this week, found myself having an in depth conversation about my balls with a complete stranger. But you can only talk so much before you realize that to truly experience the sweetness that is my balls, you have to hold them in your hand. And so, sigh, he did.
But it's not all homo-erotic news, as the doc reassured me that while yes he did feel the lump, he was reasonably sure it was not in the testicle itself, but in a bunch of swirly stuff called the epididymis. (Since I didn't know what the fuck the epididymis was, I'll assume you don't either. It's more or less the plumbing that resides between your testicle and the "out door", and provides the sperm a way to leave the body and so it can be deposited on your sister's face.) Now, notice he said "reasonably sure." And if I were making reservations for four in a popular restaurant, "reasonably sure" would be ok. I'd even be comfortable if my mechanic told me he was, "reasonably sure" my truck would make a cross country trip. But when you're talking to a guy about his balls -- balls which I hold very near and dear to my heart -- I'm shooting for a little more certainty.
And that brings us to where I was yesterday afternoon. And girls, if you want to make a guy cringe, use the words, "Scrotal ultrasound." Sure, we know ultrasounds are painless, but you should never use the words 'scrotal' and 'ultra' in the same sentence unless you're watching a movie with Ron Jeremy. And I wasn't. I was sitting in a waiting room looking up at the female nurse who just called my name and was soon going to be running, what amounts to a tricorder, over my twig and berries!
Of course, she first had to sap any sense of dignity I might still be holding onto by forcing me into one of those hospital gowns. Which I'll tell ya, when it's your balls at stake you really will be surprised at how many compromises you're willing to make. So gown on, flopped on the gurney, lights dimmed, warm fluid being squirted on my balls... it was almost romantic. Any by the gentle glow of the computer monitor, I found myself once again discussing the ups and down of my balls with a total stranger. I asked her if she needed me to show her where the lump was, and she assured me that no, she'd be able to find it. That kind of worried me. Suddenly I felt like a cave, some spelunkers just showed up, and I was going to be explored whether I liked it or not. And explored I was. Here, look belowand see for yourself!
So long story short, while I'm relieved to find nothing is out to eat my balls, I am somewhat defective... I have an epididymal cyst. But I don't have the Big Casino, which means my balls and I still have many more wonderful years together. I'd like to thank Phillips Medical Imaging department for providing me with a means to post my nuts on the internet. Again. And I'd like to thank Al Bundy for being an inspiration for allowing me find a cyst in my balls.
Once again, I hope you've appreciated this guided tour of my balls, and we certainly enjoyed having you today. Please return your seats to the full upright and locked position and prepare for returning to your normal day. And of course, as my balls are a little depressed, I know they certainly would appreciate some words of encouragement. Perhaps you can send an online get well card? Girls maybe you can write my balls a nice poem? I happen to know for a fact that my balls are huge fans of Japanese haiku, and would absolutely love to have some written for them.
Here we have the sagittal (sideways) view of my right nut. That big white oval on the right is the testicle itself, the squishy stuff on the left is the epididymis, and that highlighted dark spot -- that's my epididymal cyst. It's about 3mm in diameter. I've named him Clarence. Notice how Clarence is outside the testicle and not inside, that's good.
Same nut, transverse view, which means as if you were looking straight on. This is the view most commonly seen by your sister. Here was can see Clarence has a slight oval shape, since he's wider that he is long.
My Angry Right Testicle is the white oval on the left, and the dark spot is what's called a hydrocele. That's a fancy word for a fluid buildup. it's kind of your body's way of providing a little extra cushion and is caused by an injury (say, getting kicked in the balls), or in my case an irritated epididymis.
Transverse views of my Angry Right Testicle. That's right, my nut is 2.62cm wide. AND IT'S IN YOUR FACE!
Sagittal view of my Angry Right Testicle. Now we can add the second and third dimensions (4.8cm and 2.26cm) and calculate that my right ball is approximately 28.42 cubic centimeters in volume. So anytime you read one of my posts and say, "wow he must have big balls to post that", you'll know exactly what it takes.
For comparison, plus I don't want to make my left nut feel like I'm ignoring him, here's his sagittal view. Notice it's .4cm shorter and .2cm smaller. That's because the other wide is a touch swollen right now.
Thank you for taking a guided tour of my balls. You may now return home.
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