I’ve likened my body to a 10-year-old car. I’ve got over 100,000 miles on the clock and I’m not in too bad a condition. I could keep going for years, but the next service could reveal a string of problems and the scrapyard.
Well, it’s been one of those years when, if I was a car, you might be thinking it’s time to think about a part-exchange.
I’ve been getting a bit slow starting in the morning, which is one reason behind my decision to retire at the end of the year, but I’ve also had a couple of health scares.
I was having my morning shower, giving the crown jewels a good clean and thinking happily that I was hung like a bull - not bad for a 59-year-old - but then I realised something wasn’t quite right. I’d always had two and now there were three! Time for a visit to the doctor ...
“There’s a large mass in there and a number of smaller ones, probably nothing to worry about.”
“Probably?” Doctors never say “definitely” nothing to worry about, but now I’m on one of the NHS conveyor belts towards diagnosis and remedy. There’s a visit to Yaxley for an ultra-sound scan, where the operator shows me a picture of the inside of my testicles and tells me that there’s around a dozen lumps, some of the size of a pinhead, but there are also a couple of large walnuts. She’s surprised I’d not noticed earlier.
I didn’t want to tell her that I’d taken my extended nut-sack as a sign of good health and virility.
Back to the doctor and “probably nothing to worry about but we’ll book you in with a specialist.” The good news was that the lumps were epididymal cysts, lumps which are full of fluid and completely benign.
The specialist confirmed the diagnosis, said they were very common and (yes) there was probably nothying to worry about. I asked about treatment and he said I should just leave them alone. They might not get any bigger, but they weren’t causing me any discomfort and he confided that surgery would definitely be something to worry about as it would cause considerable discomfort. It would also have to be done in two parts - one side, then the other with a gap of a couple of months in between.
I said I was retiring at the end of the year and wouldn’t have private health insurance in 2014. Was that a reason to get it done immediately?
He said he’d do it on the NHS quickly if the need arose (there wasn’t a long wait); it would be exactly the same procedure, but I wouldn’t have a room of my own. I wondered how big they might get before I needed surgery? “I’ve seen them the size of a large orange,” he told me.
It seems epididymal cysts are described by the medical profession in terms of fruit. Mine are walnuts, so I’ve several stages to go through to reach oranges. I’ve missed peas and grapes, but I do have limes, kiwi fruit, lemons and apples to go. I wondered what to do. Doctor’s advice was nothing. Sam said one of his patients had only finally come to see him when he couldn’t cross his legs any more, so I guess that’s one yardstick.
One scare goes and another arrives ...
I was at the Isle of Man TT at the start of June and I was having a shower (my health scares always seem to start in the shower) when I felt a large spot on the side of my neck just under my left ear. I gave it a bit of an extra scrub, like you do when you’ve got a spot and emerged from the shower to find it bleeding. A dab of toilet tissue and I got dressed only for Tom to say my neck was bleeding. I cleaned it up and was careful not to knock it for a few days and promptly forgot about it for a few weeks. It’s unusual to have a spot for very long and because this one was hanging around, I was thinking that I should get it checked out.
At Max’s wedding, Sam sat next to me and asked how long I’d had that thing on my neck. He said I should get it checked out quickly. I said I had been meaning to and he said I should do it next week. What did he think it was?
“It looks like a basal cell carcinoma, a slow-growing form of skin cancer, probably nothing to worry about, but get it checked.”
The doctor didn’t know whether it was a basal cell carcinoma, but thought it should be checked and he’d book me in with a specialist, so I jumped on another medical conveyor. I had an appointment double quick with a plastic surgeon, which caused BUPA some concern - they seemed to think I might be having a facelift on the side.
The specialist was slightly more definitive, it was skin cancer, probably a basal cell carcinoma, which is slow growing, not especially invasive and if he removed it, there was a 95 per cent chance that I’d have no further trouble. If it did come back, it would come back in the same place. There was a chance it might be a squamous cell carcinoma, which was slightly worse than a basal cell variety, but still not particularly aggressive. He said squamous cells bled very easily and, as if to prove a point, my suspicious spot bled as soon as the touched it.
The course of action determined was to remove the lesion and get it sent away for analysis, which is what happened. The trouble is, as soon as anyone mentions cancer, your anxiety level jumps towards the top of the scale.
I was booked in the next week for it to be removed, a fairly quick and painless process done under local anaesthetic. I was stitched up and told to come back in two weeks for the results. The lesion had appeared on the scar of a previous operation which I’d had when I was 30 to remove a perotid gland in my neck because benign tumors had appeared on it. Although the tumors were benign, the specialist had recommended a course of radiotherapy to kill any remaining “daughter” tumors and prevent further problems.
This specialist was interested to hear the story and suggested that skin cancers often appear on areas which have been treated with radiotherapy. Being red-headed and fair-skinned, I’m more susceptible anyway and he explained that skin cancer wasn’t triggered by a single event, but by regular exposure to sun. I need to wear sun-block and to check myself regularly for any suspicious spots.
The final biopsy report confirmed that it was a basal cell carcinoma, no further visits or treatment is required.
Basal Cell Carcinoma- The most commonly diagnosed skin cancer. Tumors often develop on regions of the body that receive regular sun exposure such as the face and hands. Due to its slow growth rate, basal cell carcinoma rarely spreads and is usually treatable. A common form of basal cell carcinoma is nodular basal cell. Lesions appear as a pearly nodules in various colors including brown, black and blue.
Squamous Cell Carcinoma- Appears on body parts that experience increased levels of sun exposure such as the face, lips and back. This cancer is more likely to spread than basal cell carcinoma. The cancerous lesions have numerous forms. They may be rough, scaly, lumpy or flat. Blood vessels may appear at the edge of a lesion causing it to bleed easily.
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