Modern Man

You know how there are some things that should just be kept private? Well this is one of them. Promise me one thing: you'll laugh. I'm needy like that.

The problem: Chemotherapy can affect fertility, I know I want children in the future and with MS I can't get it up. My consultants recommended I went to andrology (the sperm bank) to discuss this.

I spoke to a receptionist about this and explained I have erectile dysfunction and severe tremors so I can't even masturbate if I could get it up. (I barely have the dexterity to eat with a spoon, for me to wank I'd need a 3 foot dick. Needless to say I do not have this.) This conversation was in a small room with about five other blokes. The receptionist (not medically trained) looked at me and said, 'Just try.' Excellent I thought, I'm 24 and haven't had sex in two years because I've not been trying. So off I went into a small room, there was a bed, a TV that didn't work and a porn mag. An Amsterdam brothel it was not. Have porn mags even been printed since the invention of the Internet? Knowing hundreds of other blokes will have wanked over the blonde bird featured wasn't exactly a turn on.

So back to reception I went, needless to say with an empty bottle. The receptionist looked a little disappointed and said that before they could consider other options there had to be two failed attempts. She then said (the room had become busier by this point) that next time I'd have to try with a vibrator! She gave me a sheet with the name of said vibrator and told me I could get it from any Boots or Superdrug.

I'm a modern man I thought, let's try it. (Total lie on reflection, sex is for special occasions, lights off socks on, missionary only, right?)

Next problem: I'm visually impaired so can't read, I don't have a clue what that sheet says. Who was I in London with? My mam! She looks at the sheet and tells me I need Durex Bullet. So that evening we went to the nearest shopping centre and bought The Bullet. (Needless to say she had to find it on the shelves because I can't see. My mam clearly wants grandchildren!)

So the next morning back to andrology I went. An out of shape Eastern European couple had just gone into the room next to the one a Greek receptionist with a rather questionable moustache showed me to. Allow me to set the scene: The tiny TV worked this time and on it there was an American porn film, very dated and thanks to my vision all I could see was a cowboy hat swinging about. The walls were paper thin and on my right all I could hear was the portly Eastern European lady tossing off her fella and ahead of me I could hear Sky News from the TV in reception. This was on Tuesday morning, they were reporting on the death toll from the Brussels terrorist attacks. I turned on the vibrator, dropped it immediately (tremors) and just began laughing. Who'd have thought sitting in a small room, listening to coverage of radical extremist attacks and trying to hold a dildo your mam all but bought for you isn't a turn on?! I'm just pleased I didn't attempt to use the vibrator only for me to realise I'm not gay and actually it would be extremely unpleasurable.

So that was my two attempts done. I went back to see my consultants and told them of this wonderful experience. They laughed (Of course they did, professionalism goes out of the window when you hear a story like that!) and have arranged a testicular biopsy. I'm coming (pun very much intended) to realise nothing worth having comes easily. A testicular biopsy means going under general anaesthetic for a surgeon to cut open your ball sack, inject a needle into your testicle and extract a sperm sample to be frozen. You then walk around in a jockstrap for the next three days and in my case hope to God that the dog doesn't jump on you. This is all booked in for Tuesday. Best part of it all is that my fertility will almost certainly not be affected as I am only having one course of chemotherapy. This is all for just on the off chance!

Other things did happen this week, like the collecting of my stem cells but I think that's enough for one blog. If you're hungover at all this bank holiday weekend just think, it could be worse, you could be getting a needle in your balls! Happy Easter.