Christin’. My twin gents are crawling about in some sort of testicular civil disobedience to express their sympathy for your (thankfully still intact) oppressed fellows.
Here’s to a quick recovery, Sofa!
Ew. I’m practically doubled over reading this thread and I don’t even have testicles… :eek:
(DRY has to win some sort of prize for Apt Use of Shakespeare, though… ;))
I am so so very sorry about your situation, Sofa. I suggest you take the hell out of that pain medicine.
Best of luck, fellah.
katie
Actually, it’s unlikely that they used surgical glue, but they might have.
Back in my Navy Corpsman days, Testicular Torsion was one of the few medical emergencies that would really get our attention. Did you know it’s frequently fatal? That could explain why the hospital got so excited.
Glad you got it taken care of with no apparent ill effects.
Fatal?! Gulp. I suppose I’ve come through this rather well, then. I’m still the King, and I’m now enjoying the effects of Percocet. I have yet to discover what is so “fun” about this narcotic, but I have to admit that it does a good job of keeping my mind off of the pain. I’m allowed to take 325 mg every 4-6 hours, and frankly, every six seems to be working just fine.
Getting my drugs turned out to be a good side/bad side story:
Bad: I discovered that in all yesterday’s confusion, I gave my prescription card to someone and never got it back.
Good: That gave me the cynical idea to go to the bank first, just in case.
Bad: That means I’ll have to go out of my way, and walking is not something I’m enjoying right now.
Good: The bank is only two hundred yards downhill.
Bad: From the bank, the pharmacy is now three hundred yards uphill.
Good: I brought along a giant umbrella to use as a cane, just in case I needed it. I needed it.
Bad: The pharmacy is closed, today only, no explanation.
Good: There’s another one only a few hundred feet away…
Bad: …But they already told me over the phone they’re out of Percocet.
Good: I notice my prescription form allows for generics… and they have them!
Bad: But of course, since it’s a narcotic, and I don’t have a policy card, I can’t have them.
Good: Have you ever been beaten about the head with an umbrella being used as a cane, Mr. Bureaucratic-ass Pharmacist? Then I suggest you call the telephone number on the prescription and verify that I just had effing surgery.
Bad: The doctor’s not in.
Good: But the person who took the call remembered my unusual arrival and circumstances and verified that I did, in fact, have my scrotum laid bare.
Bad: But since you’ve pissed me off, I’m not going to try to identify your policy number. You’ll need to pay me cash.
Good: Which is just fine by me, because I’m a cynical motherfucker, so I already went to the bank. Give me my damned drugs.
Now all I have to do is combat the boredom. So far I’ve been doing okay with that. Sunday, I get to change the bandages and see The Boys for the first time. That should be exciting…
yeowch. i hope everything works out well for you and “da boys.”
That’s it! My testicles will now be kept on a jar on top of my monitor.
[sub]ow.[/sub]
Ow.
Robin