My bout with prostate cancer has mostly been an ordeal to endure. There were a couple of bright spots, including laying spread eagle in the stirrups for a trans-urethral ultrasound, a nurse named Beth making adjustments to the rubber hose hanging out the end of my cock while she took in the view before she started the procedure.
And there was also this incident, which was extraordinary.
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Mine is a most unusual penis story, which is the prime reason I need to share it. Note: it's the story that is unusual, not the penis. It's pretty average, perhaps a tad thicker than some, but very average -- all except for the foreskin of which I had none, until it started growing back. Let me explain.
I am a 65 year old male who in January of 2009 was diagnosed and treated for early prostate cancer. Because it was in the early stages, I was "fortunate" to qualify for brachytherapy, a one-time outpatient procedure whereby radioactive seeds are implanted into the prostate to kill the cancer. The procedure went well and although I had continual misgivings about it every time I peed and felt a burning sensation, all my PSA numbers every three months looked impressive: each reading was lower than the last. The last one was a 0.03, which is excellent. I know that does not sound the least bit sexy. It is what followed over the subsequent years that this story concerns and my eventual encounter with a most attractive nurse born and raised in Bombay, India. I like to think of her affectionately as my "Bollywood Nurse", puns intended.
But first let me elaborate on the medical issues with my penis that arose that led me to my encounter with her.
Imperceptibly at first, then followed by a dawning awareness, I began to notice changes in my penis. It seemed that I was developing a bit of foreskin where I had none before. This was of no concern, at least at first. I was more concerned about the intensity of my orgasms when I ejaculated and the slower than normal urine flow. They were too intense. The radioactive seeds implanted into the prostate does strange things to the sensory nerves as the radiation is a constant source of irritation. It makes one pee more often for one thing. Slow flow and peeing more often is not a fun combination.
It was only after about 3 years that I specifically took note of one unsettling effect: my foreskin was much more prominent than at first. At five years, the effect was nearly complete!! I looked like an uncut male -- even though I had received a pretty radical circumcision as an infant.
The defining moment was when my wife and I were sharing a hot tub session with our next door neighbors who had moved in two months ago. I had stood up to gain some relief from the overly hot water. As I was standing there naked in the chilly air, Peggy, the wife of my friend Fred, made the casual observation that she had not realized until now that I was not circumcised.
The best I could do in that embarrassing moment was offer a sheepish grin. My wife made a quip about how I had to be careful skinny dipping as fish took my excess skin to be bait. I tried to laugh it off. But it was not funny and Peggy did not no how to respond.
She did not know of my prostate procedure and I was too woozy with wine to want to discuss it. All I could offer was, "Yeah, I hope you like foreskin. Because I have a lot of it," giving the end a little tug and stretching it out for her to see. This was in part to get her back for comments made earlier. Peggy had made earlier references as to how much she liked the clean cut look of circumcised males, such as her husband's penis.
That night my wife made the suggestion that I call my urologist Dr. Jansen and find out
why my foreskin had returned. Her concern was that the radiation from the seed implants had caused it to return.
After several phone calls back and forth, an appointment was set up. I think that no one at the office quite believed me when I told them I now looked like an uncut male.
A few weeks later, on the morning of the appointment I signed in the patient registry and waited until my name was called.
"Mr. Rupp."
I raised my hand and a staffer led me into an exam room. She asked what issues I was experiencing and I explained what I have related here. She opened a drawer beneath the examination table and handed me a gown.
"Everything off, unless you want to keep your socks on. It opens in the front," she said curtly. "Someone will be in to examine you in a few minutes."
"Um, I'm here to see Dr. Jansen," I replied. "He's my urologist."
"Yes, I see that," she replied looking up from my file. "He's aware that you're here. Like most busy offices, he does very few hands on procedures. We have all our nurses do those. He mostly reviews their findings and makes recommendations."
"Oh," I said. "Everything off, huh?" I started unbuttoning my shirt and the staff person left the room once my shirt was completely off. When I had removed all my clothes, except the socks, I unfolded the gown and appraised it. It looked like it had been washed about 1000 times. It was even worn through in a few places it was so sheer. At least it was better than paper ones. It indeed opened in the front, which made me wince.
I put it on and tied a couple of ties that did a pitiful job of holding the front together. Stepping over to the magazine rack I sorted through the mostly women's magazines. I finally found an old Time and started flipping pages.
After about 10 minutes there was a single knock on the door, which immediately opened. In walked an attractive young woman with long black hair which contrasted with her white nurse dress and lab coat.
I stood up and put the magazine on the counter. I made note of her large eyes and the dark liner she used. Her smile was wide and her teeth were ultra white. I made note of her trim waist and widening hips. Her top two buttons were unfastened, showing a distinct amount of cleavage.
In my head I was trying to determine what her ethnic background might be. Mexican? Indian? It was clear from her darker skin tones she was not Caucasian. She was certainly stunning. That was for sure!
I was dimly aware now that she was talking to me and was able to snap out of my musings about her appearance to catch that she was introducing herself as Nurse Sanja. I looked down at her extended hand and reached out with mine.
"Doug. Doug Rupp. Dr. Jansen did brachytherapy on me," I offered.
Nurse Sanja looked down at her clipboard. It says here that your last PSA was 0.03. Excellent. But you called about foreskin issues."
I cleared my throat. "Yes. Um, I don't know if there is any correlation but during the course of the last five years my foreskin has grown back, to the point where I look like I have never been circumcised.
"Yes. I see that in the telephone notes here. It can happen. We see it in about 5 percent of our brachytherapy patients. It's not clear why it happens."
"Lucky me," I offered, layering on the sarcasm.
Nurse Sanja just smiled.
"I felt like I needed to talk to someone about this. I wasn't sure if maybe this is just an old guy issue, like old men's ears continuing to grow or something.
"I feel a little sheepish in being here as truth be known, I think my issues are mostly psychological. I spent my entire life with a circumcised penis. Now I have all these anxieties that it just doesn't look right, at least to me. I know a lot of women prefer the clean cut look."
Nurse Sanja laughed. "Did you know that only about 30 percent of the men in the world are circumcised? It's only common here in America. In my own culture no male gets circumcised. It's the norm there."
"Oh? And what culture is that?" I asked, perhaps too eagerly.
