Say again…you’re going to put those fingers where now!
And he didn't even buy me dinner first 😳
Good to see you back, and if you are up for it today I am going to share that part of most mens prostate cancer journey, the internal exam! Before we get into the good stuff, if you are new to my posts; “Hello there” and make sure you head on back to my first post and allow me to introduce myself to you properly…
So, following on from the 18.1 PSA results from my bloods, the GP referred me to the Urology department for an internal exam and wow did that appointment letter drop fast onto my doormat. Thank you amazing NHS teams! I will be honest with you here, generally I was feeling OK about the PSA result…
My Brain: “It will be fine, just a blip, you’re fit and healthy, you’re young for this to happen, you have no symptoms…just carry on as normal, get the appointment done and they will say everything is OK. Life back on track”
So the Urology appointment day arrived and it was a late afternoon one, I went to work as normal and told the boss that I just needed to nip off early for a Doctors appointment. Now I will be honest here, I also had to Wiki what Urology was, I had never heard of it before…
Wiki states: “Urology (from Greek οὖρον ouron "urine" and -λογία -logia "study of"), also known as genitourinary surgery, is the branch of medicine that focuses on surgical and medical diseases of the urinary system and the reproductive organs.”
Thank you for that Wiki, I now head to the Urology department at my local County Hospital with full confidence that I know now what Urology do (everything attached to the ‘downstairs’ department). We all pretty much know that feeling we have when you first time arrive at the main entrance of a hospital and are searching on that big list of arrows, signs and ‘wear your mask’ posters (this was during post-Covid times), could I find the arrow that I was looking for, could I hell. So off to the receptionist and she kindly pointed me to the rear (no comments please!) of the hospital buildings.
After what felt like an eternity walking those corridors with that smell, you know the ‘hospital smell’ and unfortunately also past the mortuary, I found the Urology department! What a very unassuming department it was…a red brick, single story, no bigger than my parents bungalow and sort of on the outskirts of the main hospital. It was like the poor relation that had been outcast by the bigger more exciting of medical departments located in the main hospital. Anyway, so in I go and register with the receptionist and find a seat in the waiting room. As I am looking around there is one thing that slaps me in face, I must have bought the average age of the people waiting in this room down by at least 75%…this is just a routine appointment for me, I am going to get a nice shiny NHS letter saying all is good. Keep positive Stevenson, this place is not for you!
Then the call happened, “Mr Stevenson”, thats me! I walk into the consulting room behind the Doctor as I take note of his stature…he could have been a bloody rugby player from the 90’s (probably was), he is at least 6 foot 4 with a very commanding presence both physically and charismatically. There is no turning back now, the inevitable is going to have to happen, those fingers are going up my arse! The conversation went something like this:
Doctor: “Mr Stevenson, I see that you have been referred as your PSA results have come back quite high for your age. In these circumstances we perform an internal examination to get a better understanding if more investigation is needed. Are you happy for me proceed?”
My brain: “NO! Run, run as fast as you can and do not let him anywhere near you with those bloody massive ‘tear my arse in two’ fingers.”
Me: “Yes, that is fine, thank you Doctor”
My brain: “Muppet, now you have lost your one chance to leg it!”
Doctor: “Remove your jeans and underwear and jump onto the bed facing the wall and pull your knees as high up to your chest as possible”
I did as instructed and jumped up onto the bed with my knees pulled high and my bare arse pointing outwards. At this stage I was thinking, that can’t be a good view back there when he walks in from behind the curtain, however, I took a breath in and said “ready”. With gloves adorned and two fingers lubed, the Doctor went up and in…at some point he asked me to “relax Mr Stevenson” and I realised that my butt checks had voluntarily (God knows why that had happened?🤨) gone into clamp mode. As I stared at the magnolia painted wall while the Doctor ferreted around in my butt hole, all I could do was breath deeply and think that it would be over as quickly as it started. In fairness, it was…could not have been more than a minute and I had triumphantly survived the internal examination. What a brave soldier I was and before you have to ask, it was nothing more than uncomfortable.
Now fully dressed and sitting in front of the Doctor while he is bashing away at his keyboard with those massive fingers writing up my notes, I thought to myself “I smashed that, just need to wait for the good news and I am out of here. Wander what is for dinner tonight?”
Doctor: “So Mr Stevenson, I can feel something around the prostate. We are going to refer you for a biopsy and some scans”
My brain: “Say fucking what now! Feel something, no shit Sherlock! You stuck your fingers up my bum, I am in hope you felt at least something!”
Me: “OK, what do you think the chances of it being something”
Doctor: “50/50, we will need the biopsy and scans to confirm”
It was at that point I saw it in his eyes, he does this for a living and I could just tell he wasn’t the one that was going to confirm the bad news today. He shook my hand (thankfully he had washed them!) and I left the room, out through the waiting room and through the doors into the ass end of the Hospital grounds.
So what do you do when you get a message like this? I walked. I just aimlessly walked in the general direction of where Louise (wife and better half) was working. On route I made a detour to the Cathedral as I thought that I could do a quick prayer…call upon Him upstairs to look out for me that day. I got to the doors and they were fucking locked! The one time that I really needed to be in a place of faith and He had locked up for the day…shit!
I made it to the office and shared the news with Louise…I cried. I rarely cry (unless I am watching something like Disney’ Inside Out, don’t judge me until you have watched it) but this felt like a good time to shed a tear. Louise was amazing, she gave me a reassuring hug and said “you are going to be fine, you always are”.
I really do appreciate that there could have been worse conversations that day, however, this was relative to me and it hit me sideways as I have always been pretty fit and healthy with a positive outlook in life. I had to accept that I was now on that journey of investigating what it was that the Doctor had felt when having a rummage round down there.
Biopsy time…before you head over to the next post about my experience of the biopsy, please please please do not Google ‘Prostate Biopsy’, if you thought that the spinning head scene in the Exorcist was disturbing…I say no more at this stage.
Ready for more…head on over to my next post “Prostate biopsy, it fucking hurts!”
If you need more support then there are some great charities ready to help:
United Kingdom: https://prostatecanceruk.org
United States: https://www.pcf.org