previous  |  main  |  index  |  next
May 26, 2001

prostate stories:  one

On the 28th of January, a Friday, I paid a visit to my urologist, Dr. Boris Karloff.   After the old nutsack maneuver, Boris lubed and performed a digital rectal exam.   He withdrew the finger with a swiftness one normally associates with hand-feeding rabid badgers.   Boris told me I either had a growth on my prostate or he had an inkling as to the location of my missing ben-wa ball.   Said I needed a PSA and a biopsy.   Blood was taken and the biopsy was scheduled for Tuesday.   Long weekend.

I just came home from the biopsy.   It was no big deal which, come to think of it, was the medical term Boris scribbled in my chart after examining my weiner.   Incidentally, my PSA was .44 which gives me room for optimism.    I'll let you know the verdict.   Don't worry, though; whatever happens, I'll be fine.

Love, Andy

P.S.

I think I'm hooked on fleets.

©  2001 by the beastmaster