Little POB and Me, A Tale of One Lump...

[POB]

If you have not heard this story before, please press on with it; I hope it is worthwhile. It is all true, or at least as true as my poor alcohol addled mind remembers it…

Have you ever been terrified? Truly terrified? Not the, “Yes Boss, it was me, I shagged your missus” scared. Not even merely frightened because you have just called your current squeeze by her sisters name, (That happened once, my God I ran quickly that night…I might tell all another time.) but the gut wrenching terror of completely and utterly not knowing what to do? Of being so scared of the future that you just cannot function.

Little POB and I were lying in bed reminiscing about the weekend’s activities in general, and specifically about something that the young lady had said. “You said you were different P, and you are…now that is weird!” I was not exactly sure what she meant at the time and was busy trying to work out what she was on about. The obvious was that she was overawed by my sexual prowess, that she had never been treated in such a manly fashion before. That little POB and I had taken her to heaven and back in such a mind-blowing fashion that she was going to be forever grateful, and tell all of her hottie mates how good I was. If I was lucky she may even tell them that even though I refered to him as "Little" POB, he was not that little. Then I found it, and realised exactly what she meant…

I was suddenly the proud possessor of three balls! I was also mortified. Terrified. Sweating and hot, with not a rubber gimp mask in sight and shaking like a fat birds arse in the NAAFI Bop. And I knew that it was serious. I just knew. Fnck! I checked and checked, but even though I was still suffering from the booze of the night before, I could count to three, and work out that something was wrong…Fnck! Fnck! Fnck! Sh!t, Sh!t, Sh!t.

There was only one thing for it…I would have to go out and get completely wonkered…Nothing else would do, and there was no way I was going to tell anyone was there? I mean, it would go away wouldn’t it? After the most unsuccessful night ever in the bar, where I failed to get off with the lucky young lady of my dreams, and my fnck buddy had other plans, (doing her hair or something – bitch, little POB and I needed some consoling, in a kind and sexual way, with lots of mouth to c0ck resuscitation). I also completely failed to get drunk. I went the next morning to the Docs to see what could be done…

 

[POB]

Well first off, some bloke has had his hands on my balls! But its OK, he was a doctor before you all start to get funny with me. He was actually very nice and understanding, and knew that I was suffering from nerves. It didn’t help that the young lady I had so miserably failed with the night before was on the reception desk of the MedCen. I gave her a wink anyway, you never know, if she reads my notes, I might get a sympathy shag before it’s cut off, and I am neutered (like the dog I am, yes I know, it has been said before…not funny)! All was not lost though, and he said that I was to see the Duty Practice Nurse, and she would give me some leaflets to read, and she would also get me an appointment at the local hospital before I left. I knew one of the Nurses, and she had always attracted and fascinated me with her beautiful blue eyes, auburn hair, (OK, so she was ginger, she was also VERY cute) her large breasts, her quick whit, and the way she told me to “Fnck off twot” in her delightful Liverpool tone every time I had asked her out. I just knew it was all a cover, and she was secretly waiting for an opportunity to get me in a room alone, and bone me stupid. In fact, as I waited outside her office Little POB had started to perk up a bit at the prospect of her having to do some sort of rude examination on me, whilst casually falling out of her tight white nurses uniform…Oh excuse me a moment…Getting carried away a bit there…Just got to go and re-adjust…That’s better, now where was I? Oh yes out side the nurses’ office, with a semi on.

The voice that called me forward was not the delightful scouse twang that I had expected, but that of a Saaff Lunnon bricky, that has had a 40 fags-a-day habit since she was 15…Little POB almost disappeared, hunkering down in side my Calvins. He was not coming for out anyone, particularly the monster that appeared in the doorway. I could tell that she was a she, but the moustache nearly got me…Oh God, Please don’t let HER have to examine me!

As it happens she was very understanding and professional, just what I needed, even if she was not what I wanted. But there you go…We were still feeling a bit strange. There is no way that you can stop someone as sensitive as Little POB from being affected by this kind of thing. He didn’t really understand what all the fuss was about, and truth be known would have told everyone that he was unique, that all of the girls were missing out, and He was here to show them! He loved the female of the species, and so did I! We were a team, and nothing would separate us. The number of times he had spied a pretty lass, and had pointed to her across the road, embarrassing me. The number of times He had shown me how wonderful He thought the girl in front of him was…Spitting all over them to show his appreciation…Ah happy memories…

Anyway, the Doc had spoken to her, and she explained to me the routine from now onwards…I was to have a scan, as soon as it could be arranged, when an initial diagnosis would be made, and a course of action would then be planned. Off the phone and it seems that the appointment is for tomorrow! Fnck! This causes a few thoughts to collide in my sorry little mind:

1. It is so bad, and they know it (the fatherless twots), that they want me in as soon as possible, or
2. It is so good that the NHS has the ability to get this kind of thing done quickly, to reassure its customers, and
3. Can I get my leg over tonight then? Am I allowed to drink before I go in? Well fnck it, I am going too…I might as well it could be my last ever night out, complete, if you see what I mean…

The last thing she said to me was that I should probably have a shave, “Down there”, as she put it, pointing to Little POB. It would be better if I did it myself, ‘cos it would only be a bloke auxiliary nurse in the hospital. He knew he was being talked about, and started to react! The cute little thing…Oh fnck! I am so scared! I just do not know what to say…Except that he was now off in a world of his own…Shaved naked! It was, it seems, one of his secret dreams…The pervert. But then again, perhaps he could persuade someone to help him, later on…Hehehehehe…

 

[POB]

Pt 3...Not much more to go!

Pt 3...Not much more to go!

I have quite a few, mainly female, friends, but I was just not in the mood. I wanted men’s talk about football and rugby, about women and shagging. I wanted to talk about all the things that I thought that I might be about to miss out on, about everything that made me, me. About the turn of an ankle on a beautiful leg and about breasts. About life, about the mountains, that away from women kept me sane and were the only reason that I stayed in the mob. (The theory being that the mob paid me to go and see mountains and hills around the world, and also paid my standing orders)…Most of all I wanted my friends with me, as I was really starting to worry now…I needed their banter and cat-calls, their fun.

But there was an immediate problem straight away. There was virtually no one out. It being Tuesday and all that, everyone was in saving their pennies for the weekend. The prospect of staying in the bar, and chatting to Jumper Jim in the corner was just too much, so I went off in search of noisier surroundings. I eventually found them, but not before I had strolled past the WRAF block on the off chance that they wanted me to star, as the lead male, in a re-enactment of “The 12 Whores of Rome,” complete with peeled grapes, a selection of sex aids and vast quantities of wine, but no joy there…Even they were being quiet tonight. I finally ended up at the Families Club, in time to grab a Bingo strip, and so possibly my last night of being whole was spent in the company of a rather large bunch of married women, and a mad bingo caller called Bruce. Fan-fncking-tastic! Oh and one rather nice daughter, who appeared to be of legal age, and who was drinking lager by the pint! Result. Her name was Tina, and she was gorgeous. Blond, blue-eyed, breasts that looked up and out on the world like nosey puppies in a too-large basket, and legs that went on and on…I could hear squeals of delight from Little POB, as he began to jump up and down in my trousers…I could hear him pleading with me to take her home. She was absolutely gorgeous, and as it turns out, 19 in three weeks time! I could not believe my luck! And she spoke to me, and we were both sober! Wow, a result on my last night of completeness! We swapped phone numbers, and I didn’t even have to apologise for getting too close to her, or touching her…She liked me! It was heaven…But how to introduce to the conversation what was on my mind? I could think of no way of telling her that I would like her to come back to my room, and shave my bits…Oh and have enthusiastic and adventurous sex…Oh and by the way I am off to hospital tomorrow, and I may have cancer. Fnck. What a position to be in. God this was depressing! As I was walking her home we had a chat, along the lines of, “I am so pleased to have met you, but I am going away tomorrow, and don’t know when I will see you next.” “That’s OK, P, I will wait for you.” It was almost perfect, but I had to tell her…And so I did…And we cried a bit…And she came back to mine…And we slept…Completely innocently, side by side, just cuddling. It was all I could do to keep Little POB quiet, but eventually he dozed off. I even kept my trousers on!

Little POB had spent most of the night shouting at me to “Get inside her, you hom, go on, fnck her!” “If not, just let me spit on her chin. Go on dad, you’ve never stopped me before!” But by this time I was not in a fit state mentally to perform, so with a lot of shouting and pointing from him, and a bit of mumbling from me, we walked her home, and left her at the corner of her road, so as not to let her parents see me…I was a gentleman, but had only known her for about 12 hours, I didn’t need to be brave and meet them just yet…That would come later!

And so to hospital…By now I was getting more than a little worried. The MT driver had asked me what was wrong, and in the jokey way that I am sure we have all used, said, “I hope its nothing minor!” I refrained from chinning him, and calling him all the cnnts under the sun, but only just.

I was not prepared for the next bit…I did not really realise what hospital involved…the leaflets had been fine, but they did not mention the fact that I would be sat with two other blokes staring at the floor, in a waiting room with about 40 women in various stages of pregnancy…Oh Fnck!

 

[POB]

They called my name and I felt 40 pairs of eyes boring into me with the kind of hatred that only pregnant females can have for a man…who appeared to be queue jumping! I stood up and stumbled over to the counter, where a female mini-Attila the Hun, was reading from a list and asking me to confirm my name and address details…Yes that’s me. Little POB was by now catatonic…frozen in fear, and I was not fairing much better. I was directed to a young lady who tried to put me at ease, but was really not succeeding, and shuffled into a small room with blue roll on the bed, and 5 other women! Great. Fncking brilliant… That’s all I wanted, an audience. I can’t really remember their names, but Mary, the radiographer, introduced me to her trainee, (“Did I mind?” Yes I fncking do mind! Came out as, “No, of course not, we all have to learn, don’t we.” What a cnnt!) The nurse introduced me to her trainee, (“No, of course not, the more the merrier!” Bigger cnnt) and finally, the note taker, and her trainee! At this point I nearly called outside, to ask if anyone else wanted to come in see the ultimate in humiliation…me and Little POB, in a cold room full of women, with my trousers round my ankles and shirt pulled up, covered in even colder ‘ultra sound transport medium’ (a bit like KY, but slightly runnier. (Not that I have any reason to know what KY is like, but that’s what they told me)) This is when I really knew terror…But of course the whole thing is completely non-sexual. Very benign. Until Little POB, having been pushed about by the ultra sound probe decided that this was the time to wake up and have a look around…”Oh, cor dad look…Women! Loads of them, are we here to play? Is this the special prize you promised me for being good last weekend with Pauline?” Go back to sleep little man, there’s nothing to see here…and certainly nothing for you. He is so cute, but there is only so much thinking a chap can do, and usually not both of us at the same time. After a few thoughts about Anne Widdecombe, and anyone else that I could bring to mind to calm him down, I was told that it was all over, I could dry myself off (more blue roll) and get dressed. And if I would like to give my name and mobile number to the receptionist, I would be contacted later on today, but that I should not leave the hospital site…(“Go for a coffee, relax…read a book.” Yea, like I can relax now you dozy cow!)

My phone rang and it was the hospital…My guts felt as if they were full of frozen lead. Fnck, this is actually a bit serious now POB, start concentrating. “OK, yes I understand, yes I will be there.” More mental cursing…I had to meet the specialist at 1330, but should check in with his nurse about 20 minutes before. It is no lie to say that I nearly ran away. I nearly just blanked it all out and scampered back to camp. But I had to just get on with it. I had to know…

At the appointed hour, I was waiting at the door of the Onc ward, very nearly sh!tting myself, when I was let in by the receptionist, (What is it with receptionists? Most of them are bloody scary!) and told to go into the examination room, strip to my underwear and wait for the nurse. The door opened as I was lying on the couch, shivering slightly. I looked round to see the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, leaning against the doorframe, holding a razor. She was tall and slim, blond, and back-lit producing a halo effect, in her nearly see-through uniform. Little POB was instantly alert. My God, but she was gorgeous! Then she muttered the most amazing words I have ever heard…”Are you ready for me?” as her glance moved between Little POB and the razor. I have to admit that I just shock my head and mumbled that I had already done it…She just smiled, winked and disappeared from my life forever. Bu99er! And that b!tch of a nurse in the MedCen was going to get a shouting at too…“’cos it would only be a bloke auxiliary nurse in the hospital” Yeah right…

The thing about having testicular cancer is that just about everyone in the medical world wants to come and feel your balls…There is a big investment going on in cancer treatment, and part of that means a boost in training. But why did they all have to come and examine me? Were my bits that good (or bad?) an example of what to look for? Fnck knows, but I have now got so used to it that I don’t feel any embarrassment at all…

 

[POB]

The End.

The End.

I had an operation to remove the offending item the next day, and after a few tests it was confirmed as cancerous. I then went onto a short course of chemotherapy, and a relatively few days of off work. It was just a minor operation after all. It has changed my life forever, and given me a fresh outlook on life. I don’t know how to express all that I feel, but have come to a stage in my life where I had to tell people about it…I hope that you don’t mind. If you want to ask me questions, please do…You can PM if you want…Or just reply on this thread, I don’t mind.

I would ask a few things though:

1. If you recognise me from the story, please keep my identity to yourself and respect my PerSec.
2. If you find a lump, for fnck’s sake, GET IT LOOKED AT as soon as you can, if not sooner!
3. If you are Tina’s father, please forgive me for keeping her out that night…We really did just talk. The other stories about Tina and me will have to wait until I can be bothered to write them.
4. I meant this as a humorous story, but one that I had to tell. If I have upset anyone with my language, then I am truly sorry. It didn’t stay as light-hearted as I had intended, so again please accept my apologies.
5. Finally, Tina, if you read this, give me a bell, I have not changed my number, and I want to warn you about the other stories I was thinking of telling…

 

[Deleted member 777]

A tale (pun intended) worth a read

A tale (pun intended) worth a read

To quote Smashy and Nicey - Wise words mate.

I often have a quick rummage around mine, but for a completely different reason I think.

A mate of mine suffered from it many years ago and had to lose one. It actually made him more of a sex beast - go figure!!!!

 

[GeordieLegend]

A good friend from Uni whose testicular cancer treatment came a year ago told me he had found that being a cancer survivor "forces one to assume a new normal, not necessarily worse, just different life." He's right. In some ways, this has been the most terrifying, humbling experience of his life, but in other ways, it has been the best thing ever to happen to him. He's awake and now aware.

 

[Stax]

Pob, excellent mate, truly excellent. I have never been in that position but you managed to make the scariest time of your life into an entertaining saga that can only be a benefit to all the guys on this site. Good luck for the future, long may little Pob reign.

 

[POB]

Thank you Stax...

He certainly rains these days, but I think that that's an age thing...

I have many more stories to tell, and when I get a few minutes, I will put them on The Goat. As I said in my story, I want to speak to Tina before I go to far, 'cos she could tell a story or two as well...

(Although I could just change her name, and tell anyway???)

 

[JFOM]

POB, Thanks for telling your story. There's no need for apologies for the language, for telling the story or keeping Tina out all night (well okay, maybe for keeping Tina out all night!)

I'm pleased for you that Little POB is all sorted and we can all learn from your experience, for example, don't bother shaving before you go to the hospital!

I'm off for a fumble! DT_Xtremez_15:

 

[POB]

Plums!

Plums!

For some good advice try this link...

http://www.fugly.com/videos/3446/testicle_check.html

I doubt that IGS will let it pass, but it is safe for work, and she is gorgeous!


P

 

[ExCrab]

Very good being able to put it into an entertaining story, but at the same time getting across a very serious point.....well done matey!!!

You only had a short course of chemo......how did it affect you???

 

[POB]

Well it depends who is reading this...Obviously, for all of the gorgeous females reading this, it increased the size of Little POB (not that he was small before), and made me the sex God (pest?) that I am now...

Seriously though, Alopecia (Total baldness) stained teeth, and a big weight loss, ( I am more of a racing snake than a pie eater, but still lost 1.5 stone) but to be honest it was more mental than physical. Although I did throw up on one of the girls (Sorry - Young Ladies), that worked for me (That serves myself right too...I was trying to get her to look at my stitches (and maybe a kiss better?)) after she had given me a cup of tea. The look on her face...

It was not the end of the story; when I have the inspiration and time I will add more...

I found through the whole experience that a smile was better than anything else that you could give or receive, but it also led to depression and some outrageous drinking...(Bottle of Jack a night at one point!) But all that is sorted and I am back to a more reasonable 10 pints of bitter a night!

P

 

[Gimp Child]

NIce wun mate

NIce wun mate

I was going to say "you have balls telling that story" but then I thought not. Thanks for sharing your testimony with us. We can all be a bit lazy when it comes to checking the old crwn jewels but I must admit I have taken heed of your situation and now do the biz more regular...... Big thanks mate.. well done

 

[Cake or Death]

nice one on putting a serious point thru on a light hearted note. And i will do what rachel stevens has advised more often but not whilst watching her as i may be distracted

 

[Ex-Bay]

Thanks

Thanks

Thanks for telling the tale, POB. A salutary lesson for all men, I suspect.

And, yes, she was gorgeous. . . .

I do hope you get the urge to write about your Chemo therapy though. I watched my wife go through it and it got quite scary for a while, but she started a size 16 and finished a size 12. IT didn't take too long for her hair to grow and it looked a lot better!


I wish that there was as simple a test for Prostate problems.

 

[SirSaltyHelmet]

Methinks people are digging up old threads to pi$$ off MingMong