My Balls Are Killing Me

Words Chris Robinson,
Pictures Andreas Hykade

( Each issue of Galaxy Brain Magazine will contain an installment of Chris Robinson’s book, “My Balls Are Killing Me.” You can read the first instalment HERE. )

Chapter 2 – Dr. Google

Mr. Pimp steps forward to address the reader: “Hi, so… well… this is how it all began.”

He resumes his spot in the story.

“Fuck!” he shouts as he feels a lump in his right testicle. It is hard, round and the size of a marble. He fondles his ball repeatedly thinking that it might help.

“Maybe there’s a zit on my scrotum. If I push hard enough, maybe I can pop it.”

There is only piercing pain.

“That can’t be good,” he thinks.

Dr. Google says there are four possibilities:

Varicocele — twisted veins in the sac. Nope. 

Spermatocele — a cyst-like mass littered with fluid and dead sperms. yum.

Hydrocele — a water balloon in your scrotum. If you shine a flashlight on your ball and your sac is full of a clear fluid, it’ll light up. 

Testicular cancer – usually a painless lump in one of the scrotums. If you shine the flashlight and can’t see any light, then, well, that’s not good.

He finds a flashlight and shines it on his testicle.  There is no light.

“Shit.” 

He picks up the phone and calls Doctor Keaton.

Chapter 3 – Curb Your Enthusiasm

Examination table, doctor’s office.

On his back, Mr. Pimp stares at the ceiling and thinks about baseball as Doctor Keaton examines the testicle. Mr. Pimp fears having an erection and begins picturing many mustachioed baseball players warming up together, throwing and catching in the sped up style of an old newsreel.

Doctor Keaton’s voice interrupts the baseball game: “Ok, you can pull your pants up now.”

He lifts his trousers up carefully over his erection.

“I’m somewhat concerned,” says deadpan Doctor Keaton

His eyes, though, say more. 

Mr. Pimp’s nerves erupt as his body goes flush with fear.

“I’m going away next week for a month,” says Doctor Keaton, “so I’ll get you in for an ultrasound immediately.”

Examination table, ultrasound lab. A large stern looking woman grabs the ultrasound scanner and asks him to hold his scrotum. 

Mr. Pimp makes small talk.

Ultrasound lady is not interested.

After a few minutes, she finishes the scan. “Well, there’s definitely a lump in there.”

“That can’t be good,” he replies, hoping to drag more information out of her.

None comes.

“The Doctor will let you know in a couple of weeks.”

“A couple of weeks!” he thinks to himself.  “Doctor Keaton goes away in one week, next Friday! I can’t wait that long not knowing. Why can’t this miserable bag drop a hint!”

–

Once home he immediately consults the always reliable Dr. Google. 

“Good news,” he thinks as he frantically scrolls a medical website.  “It’s one of the most curable cancers. Hurray! I might have one of the best cancers! In your face, terminals!”

The following Monday morning, he calls Doctor Keaton’s office. 

There is some reassurance from the nurse: “It only takes 4-5 days to get results.”

That doesn’t stop Mr. Pimp from calling every day.

–

Thursday rolls around. He phones the office again.

 “The results are in,” says the Nurse, “but Doctor Keaton hasn’t looked at them yet.”

Mr. Pimp sits nervously with a hand on his mobile phone for the rest of the day waiting for a call that doesn’t come.

–

Friday afternoon. He is startled by the Curb Your Enthusiasm theme music that he uses as a ringtone. It somehow always lightens him up each time it plays. He imagines Larry David on the other end.

“Hey, Schmohawk. So… yeah… your ball. It’s pretty pretty pretty pretty bad….” 

The voice shifts to that of Doctor Keaton

“The mass is highly suspicious. I’m going to send you to a urologist. They’ll do surgery to remove the testicle so they can do the biopsy and then see if anything more needs to be done. Either way, it’s treatable and you’ll survive.”

He imagines Doctor Keaton at the departure gate of an airport in his vacation clothes with a porkpie hat, shorts, and a cocktail.

The phone is on the hook. “Did I say goodbye to him? I can’t remember.”  

He sits down on the edge of the bed for a couple minutes, thinking nothing, feeling nothing, just staring blankly ahead as the imaginary camera zooms in on his face as the Curb Your Enthusiasm music starts to play.

Chapter 4 – The Wizards of Balls

Mr. Pimp addresses the reader again: “Now, this is the part in the story that I can’t really remember much of. See, to ease my anxiety, I asked the doctor for some pills. Only later did I discover that one of the possible side effects was memory loss. So, please keep that in mind as I attempt to piece together the … umm….  what was I saying?”

Mr. Pimp sits anxiously in a waiting room. His hat rests on his lap and occasionally floats up towards the ceiling. Above him is a medical illustration of a testicle (that occasionally resembles Athena.)

“You can come in now,” says a voice.

He walks into the doctor’s office. Two doctors – both wearing wizard hats and long silky purple gowns await him.

“Hi, I’m Doctor Bob. This is Dr. Tobin, the man who will perform the ball removal surgery.”

Mr. Pimp interrupts the scene to address the reader: “Okay, he actually said ‘Orchiectomy’ but come on…let’s do away with those fancy unpronounceable words and just call it what it is.”

Doctor Wizard Bob continues, “Okay, if you’ll just have a seat, we’ll start the show.”

Doctor Wizard Tobin dims the lights so that there is only a single spotlight focused on Doctor Wizard Bob behind his desk. Doctor Wizard Bob grabs a stick and pulls down a projection screen. 

“So, what we’re going to do is quite easy. We’ll make a four-inch slice on the right of your lower abdomen. Doctor Wizard Tobin, who briefly moves to the spotlight and waves, will then reach in and push the testicle up through your pelvic area. Then we snip, stitch and we’re done. It will take about 45 minutes.”

Doctor Wizard Bob raises the screen up and out of sight as Doctor Wizard Tobin turns the lights back on.

“Any questions?” asks Doctor Wizard Bob.

“Well, yeah, what if it’s not cancer? Mr. Pimp inquires as he struggles to keep his hat from floating to the ceiling.

“The odds are about 95% that it is malignant. Unfortunately, the only way we can know is to look at the testicle under a microscope.

“And what if it is cancer? Then what?” Now, Mr. Pimp starts to float with his hat towards the ceiling. 

“There are two types of tumours,” says Doctor Wizard Tobin as Doctor Wizard Bob lifts his stick towards the man and proceeds to lower him back into his chair. “Seminomas or non-Seminomas. Seminomas are slow growing, while non-Seminomas are more aggressive. Then we’ll see which of the three stages it’s at. Stage 1 means the cancer has stayed in the testicle. Stage 2 means it’s strayed into the retroperitoneal lymph nodes. They’re in the back below your diaphragm and between your kidneys. Stage 3 means it’s gone to other parts of your body and you’re fucked.”

Drifting towards the ceiling again, Mr. Pimp thinks about his sons. Marcus is 14. He is upset, mostly because he thinks he’ll get cancer now. He becomes obsessed with incessantly examining his balls. Jimmy, age 5, is handling it much better. He told the class that the doctor is cutting his dad’s balls off. He laughed. They laughed.

As Doctor Wizard Bob uses his stick to lower him to his seat again, Mr. Pimp raises his hand.

“Yes, do you have a question?”

“Yes, I have a question.”

“Okay, what is your question?”

“Do you have a ball catalogue I can look it? I assume that you’re going to insert a replacement ball during the surgery and I just naturally wondered what my options might be.”

“Excellent question,” says Doctor Wizard Bob as he drops a large, heavy and dusty book on the desk. “Here, take a couple of minutes to see what’s available.”

With the healthy left testicle atop his shoulder, Mr. Pimp leafs through the catalogue and examine an array of options:

The Bionic Ball – 100% recycled from electronic parts. When the ball moves, it makes a bionic sound like the one used in the Six Million Dollar Man TV show. If you have extra health insurance, you can even get one autographed by the original cast.

The Pirate – a no frills skull and crossbones ball made out of high-end silk imported from India.

The AC/DC – a golden brass ball that plays the “Ballbreaker” riff during intense movements.

The Bowling Ball – literally, a miniature 5-pin bowling ball that comes in different colour options.

“Well, what do you think?” he asks his left testicle. “You’re the one who has to live with them.”

“Well, first of all, thank you for asking,” says the left testicle. “I’ll be honest with you. After some forty years of having to share a decidedly constricted spatial configuration, I’m looking forward to some alone time, some ‘me’ time, if you will.”

“Okay,” Mr. Pimp says, “that settles it. We’ll just leave the sac vacant.”

“Any other questions?” asks Doctor Wizard Bob.

“No, I think we’ve covered everything.”

“Alright, we will see you next week,” says Doctor Wizard Tobin as Doctor Wizard Bob raises his wand and creates a big cloud of smoke that the two men slip into.