It’s time once again for my annual prostate exam.
Being “mumblety-five”, I am required to submit myself (phrasing of that written on purpose) to check the tenderness and size of my prostate gland, which is up the butt a couple inches. This exam is the first line of defense in checking for prostate cancer.
Besides being the big “C” word, which has potentially lethal results, this form of cancer can also cause sexual dysfunction. Therefore, being in no hurry to (a) die, (b) stop having sex, (c) there is no ‘c’, and (d) all of the above, I gladly submit to this invasive and a tad humiliating examination*.
Unfortunately, I no longer have the petite and cute doc from the last exam I posted about. Rather, this is a big, burly doc with calloused hands and dirt under his nails. Even better? He was being shadowed by a resident who was watching with great interest. The doc asked routine questions about my health, focusing on key warning symptoms for prostate issues.
Then, with scientific detachment – – “Okay, drop your trousers and bend over the exam table.”
A preparatory shot of whisky? A manly wink with a ‘three-pat’ on the shoulder? Flowers?
Nope, none of that. Just his “drop trou'” while the latex glove goes on with an ominous ~snap~. And then the lube tube is (thank god, generously) accessed. Finally, without a howdy do or a “deep breath and brace”, he dug right in. Yes, with the resident still watching (hey, at least he didn’t ask for a turn).
Feeling around in my butt for all of 10 seconds (seeming to be 10 minutes), Doc finally said, “That feels fine.”
In a sudden OCD-like rush of concern for my health, I reiterated redundantly, “So it felt good?”
A wry look and a rebuke from the doc, “We never say ‘it feels good’ when doing a rectal exam.”
So, until next year.
…at which time I will bring my own whisky…
*And, yes, a tip of the hat to my female readers who scoff, deservedly, at us guys waiting until our 40s to regularly have this exam whilst you have been having docs poke around your lady parts…sometimes with heavy machinery…since you hit puberty. So, guys? Shut up and take it like a man. And annually at that!