Operation Arsenick

As you are probably aware I have suspected prostate cancer which was diagnosed from two blood samples before we went away on holiday. This was followed up by a doctor sticking his fingers up my bum for considerable time while he had a feel around in inappropriate places. It felt a little like the anal equivalent of someone pressing on your eyeball. Mind you, I wouldn’t like his job; I guess it’s not the type of job you aim for, more drift into if you aimed too high and weren’t so bright. The doctor’s equivalent of the snooker players misspent youth. I guess the best qualified people to spend the day with their fingers up someone’s bum is the ones that had previously spent the day with their fingers up their own bum. This doctor wasn’t satisfied with poking around up my bum but couldn’t resist having a little play and examination up front first. But I suppose it’s his way of making the job more interesting. When he had finished, I asked him if my prostate felt normal to which he replied that it didn’t and he was sending me for a biopsy upon my return from holiday.

We were due back on the Friday and my biopsy was due on the Monday so I had a few days to adjust to the British time zone and mentally prepare myself. However, during the first week of our holiday, I managed to secure a job starting on the Tuesday of our return which I gladly took as it is in Milton Keynes. As you know, our return was a disaster and we didn’t actually get home until Sunday evening and only managed to get around 3 hours sleep for three consecutive nights. Added with the fact that we went from 30 degrees to minus 5 when we stepped off the plane it wasn’t surprising that I contracted a stinking cold and the following day my biopsy was due. Luckily, I had taken some aspirin to stave off the cold so the doctor wouldn’t perform the biopsy on the Monday because the greatest risk is with bleeding and aspirin thins the blood. I was already gowned up by this time and on the operating table. I was waiting in the corridor with Claire when a male nurse asked me to follow him where he discretely told me to turn my gown around as it works better when the split is at the back. I went back into the changing room, took it off, studied it and put it back on. The split was still down the front. I thought it was a trick gown at first but managed to get it right on the third attempt. My appointment was rescheduled for Friday 17 December and we returned home to rest ready for my new job the following day.

I’m working at Cerulean in Linford Wood East which is about 2km from our house. My immediate task is to design a smoking machine that smokes 20 cigarettes at once and measures NOx or the oxides of Nitrogen from the smoke. The usual more common machine smokes the cigarettes and measured the oxides of Carbon so I have a starting point for the design. The main difference is that Nitrogen oxides change from one to another dynamically so you can’t collect all the smoke from the 20 cigarettes then take the measurements. I have to take measurements after each puff without collecting the smoke first. The termination method is interesting, a piece of cotton stretches about 3mm from the filter of each cigarette which burns through and stops the puff engine for each cigarette. Each puff is split into 10 or deci-puffs so if the cotton breaks after 3 deci-puffs the other 7 deci-puffs have to be made up with air. I am quite enjoying this job and the people all seem very nice so far.

Friday 17th came and I found myself once more in the waiting corridor in my gown; this time with the split up the rear. I was taken into the operating theatre where I had the procedure explained to me. They were to take 5 samples from one side of my prostate and 5 from the other. To enable the doctor to see what she was doing she used an ultrasound probe which was connected to an industrial laptop. This whole procedure was to be done without anaesthetic via my anus. Not a pleasant thought, especially after I spotted the probe. It was the size of a bundle of pencils with a golf ball on the end. The lady doctor and the nurse seemed to have great trouble getting the correct program on the screen and ended up fetching a man to help them. They reminded me of that famous comedy duo Hardy and Costello; neither of them was thin. Not the greatest start for my confidence; especially as I seemed to have tummy trouble all day. I had made 8 visits to the toilet whilst at work in the morning alone and was ready for another visit right now. Once the man had got the program to work they put me into the correct position for blast off which was on my side facing away from them so I couldn’t see what they were up to. I could hear them fiddling around with something for ages but when they started chuckling and giggling I turned around to see what all the fun was about. The pair of them was trying to get a contraceptive over the probe; it wasn’t an ordinary one, but one of those red ones with all the knobbles on it. The first thing they had to get it over was the golf ball end which was tricky but when they finally managed it looked like one of those space hoppers from the 1970’s.

Before inserting the probe she first inserted a suppository with some gel lubricant to make entry a little easier. It didn’t. It was all a very painful and uncomfortable experience which seemed to go on for ever. Just as I though that she must have taken at least 10 samples by now, I heard this snap noise. It sounded and felt like a small mouse trap snapping shut inside me and hurt like hell. The nurse explained that it was the first sample being taken so only 9 more to go. The probe was wriggled around into another position ready for the next mouse (or gerbil) and THWACK! It was like a Batman movie. After 5 of these the probe was moved around to the other side and the process repeated. Torture! Once finished she didn’t waste any time getting the probe out; in fact, I think she took it out a bit too quickly as it made a POP noise just like when you pop your finger out the side of your mouth. The speed of removal seemed to create a vacuum and drag splashes of blood out with it. When I looked around it was like a scene from a Hitchcock’s Psyco movie with what looked like blood and guts all over the laptop, nurses and walls. I guess it looked like that because that’s exactly what it was.

I was cleaned up and allowed to go home after they had explained that I couldn’t go to the toilet for a bowel movement for at least two hours, also I should expect blood to be in my urine so I must drink lots of water to flush it all out. I shouldn’t drink alcohol for at least 48 hours or take any aspirin. I also have to take antibiotics to reduce the risk of infection. Well, that’s about it; I hope that my next blog is a little easier for you to read and also a little easier for me to write. Let’s also hope that the condom didn’t split and I’m not pregnant.