The Exploration

 

For a number of years, I had suffered from (I believe) an auto-immune skin condition, Lichen Sclerosis, (other spellings are available) which caused flare ups of, for me, red patches on my glans. They were not especially itchy or even sore for that matter, just annoying. I had seen a urologist once who did not show any concern at all, just told me to get some steroid cream and it should disappear, although likely reappear periodically, which it did. This time perhaps it was more stubborn.

We had gone to Spain for a long weekend for our wedding anniversary, three nights at a casita renovated by a former colleague of my wife’s, part of a larger rural complex they had bought after quitting the British rat race a few years earlier. The style was sort of shabby chic, top end and a delight to stay there. For me though, the huge walk-in rain shower was the highlight, somewhere I spent longer than I might usually, escaping the 40-degree heat.

So, I had a bit of an "explore", as anyone might. The flare up seemed a bit more extensive than I had first thought, but still just a centimetre or in diameter so under the foreskin, not a lot. But, also, looking a bit different this time, ulcerated.

Every time I went to the bathroom over the next few days I would have a look, and a feel! (Yes, I did wash my hands thoroughly) It wasn’t getting any smaller, but it did feel harder and there was some blood coming from it now.

Too many men die of embarrassment, heads are buried in the sand and doctors not consulted. It will go away they think but by the time they conclude that it won’t it is often too late!!

Fortunately for me I had got over the embarrassment stage. Four years earlier I had been in a serious road accident, a pedestrian hit by an SUV. That is a whole other blog in itself but suffice to say, a month in hospital barely able to move, having to shit on a plastic pan and have my backside wiped by a myriad of strangers meant I could now manage the thought of showing my knob to a doctor.

Reading up on the skin condition I was reminded that in a small percentage of cases it can become cancerous. I hadn’t given this much thought. It is not as if the urologist I had seen a few years back had made a thing of it. Now though, I was giving it a lot of thought. I read up about penile cancer, as much as I could, and then read some more. I looked up images, most didn’t look anything like what I had, but one did! Knob cancer was a distinct possibility and I needed to rule it out!

Sadly, I didn’t really have any faith in my GP practice following a number of mistakes in recent times. I wasn’t keen to put a possible cancer case in front of them and so found a few £s and decided to book a one-off consultation with a private urologist. Not just any urologist, I researched any who had experience or specific interest in cancer, and specifically penile cancer. I found one, part of the urological team at The Christie cancer hospital in Manchester and who furthermore specialised in penile cancer cases. I booked an appointment, 31^st July, just a week away.

I didn’t expect to have cancer, after all most things usually aren’t, and this cancer is extremely rare as well. But, if a penile cancer specialist told me I didn’t have penile cancer I could believe him and move on, no lingering doubts.

Straight to the point, I told him my concerns and he took a look. Pants down, just get on with it.

He didn’t beat about the bush. Straightaway he confirmed that it certainly looked suspicious. I appreciated this approach - I didn’t want to leave without answers. Obviously, without testing he could not 100% confirm cancer but he was fairly sure. He did say that it did look early stage which was good news but, in his opinion, needed surgery to remove the affected area via a partial glansectomy (removal of the top of part of my knob), pulling some skin from elsewhere to cover up and add in a circumcision while at it. 

That sounded expensive! I quickly clarified that whilst I had booked this private consultation, I didn’t think I could afford to move forwards privately. I was reassured that there was no benefit to private treatment and that he would refer me to his own NHS clinic. Under normal circumstances I would then have a consultation at The Christie but he didn’t think there would be anything to be gained by a second consultation, so proposed referring me straight for the surgery. This could happen within the month. Bloody hell!

I was a bit taken aback by this, were there not waiting lists months long? Apparently not. We’ll get this out of the way quickly.

A strange drive home, my mind and thoughts going all over the place; how would I tell my wife, and then the rest of the family, my boys, my mum, that not only did I (most probably) have cancer, but penile cancer. Seriously, who has knob cancer? How had I gone from a noticing a red mark a few weeks ago to needing to have a piece of my penis chopped off?