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Big "C" - Final (standard:non fiction, 3276 words) [3/3] show all parts | |||
Author: casio1933 | Added: May 07 2008 | Views/Reads: 2365/1781 | Part vote: 0.00 (0 votes) |
The last three chapters are combined here. | |||
Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story spring. NEW POSSIBILITIES My Dad was seeing Joe on a regular basis about every six weeks or so for checkups. On one of these trips in early Spring, Joe told Dad about a "relatively new procedure" being performed at some of the hospitals around the country. He thought it might take care of the impotence. "You're a young man, and I hear it works for some people.” He said, "There's a doctor at the University of Virginia Medical Center, I want you to talk to him, if you're interested ‑ think about it and let me know”. My Dad was much in the dumps. He didn't think anybody could do him any good. However, Joe's revelation didn't require much "thinking about it”. Dad was ready to talk to anyone he felt might help his situation ‑ he told Joe to set up an appointment. The following week Dad drove to the University Medical Center for an appointment with the Chief of Urology. Dr. Howards explained there had been some recent developments in Urology, by which the Urologist could implant a device in the penis. This could help the patient achieve about an 80 percent erection. This enabled most patients to engage in intercourse. "There are two primary procedures," he explained, "one includes the insertion of a type bladder inside the penis with a pump installed in the scrotum. To achieve an erection, manipulation of the scrotum is all that's required." That sounded damn good to Dad. "Of course it is a mechanical device and, as such, is subject to failure, the same as any other mechanical device." Dr. Howards went on, "You could have a malfunction with the pump, it could fail to pump up the bladder, and you couldn't achieve an erection. On the other hand, it could fail to bleed‑off and you couldn't lose the erection. The movement of the bladder inside the penis could cause irritation and possible rejection. Any problem could result in additional surgery to repair or replace the device." The second procedure Dr. Howards described included the insertion two silastic rods down the length of the penis from just inside the scrotum to just behind the glans. With this procedure the patient would always maintain roughly 80 percent of a full erection. While there would be none of the pressure associated with a natural erection, it could function nearly as well as a normal erection. He assured Dad the wives he had talked with, whose husbands had this operation could not, in most cases, tell the difference. My Dad liked what he had heard. He went home and discussed it with Mom. They both thought it would be more than something "nice" to bring back into their lives. My Mom told Dad it would have to be his decision, since the procedures both entailed surgery and a painful recovery. Dad said he would stand on his head for a month or walk barefoot through fire to get that damn thing up again. Dad called Dr.Howards at the University early the next morning to set up an appointment for surgery. They scheduled it for late June. When he went for the operation, Mom went with Dad. Dr. Howards examined Dad and asked which procedure he had decided on. Dad told him, despite the drawbacks associated with the mechanics of the device and the risk of rejection or infection, he had been around a bunch of engineers most of his life. He did like the idea of being able to pump up his penis to a full erection any time he liked. The major drawback was getting together with a bunch of his buddies on a Friday night for a few beers, getting to bragging about the damn thing, pumping it up and "blowing the head off.” Dad opted for the static job. Dr. Howards said they were experiencing a high level of success with the static implant. He thought it would be very satisfactory ‑ it was also a less complex procedure. No one in either Dad's or Mom's family was told about the implant surgery. After cancer, anyone hears about a trip to the University Hospital and everybody is sure you're going up there to have chemotherapy or radiation therapy or die. They told a few close friends where they would be and, generally, what was going on -- corrective surgery. Frank had been told. Dad asked him to come down from Washington to be with Mom while he was in surgery. She had stopped eating and was losing weight again worrying about Dad going in for surgery again. At the hospital, Dad got another one of those "close shaves" and got in line for the operating room. That afternoon he awakened enough to look at the agony between his legs. It scared hell out of him. His cock was swollen to the size of a beer can. It looked ready to burst and was black as hen shit. It looked horrible and hurt like hell. If he thought it hurt after the prostate surgery, that pain was nothing compared with the way it now felt. Because Dad was a diabetic, the doctors wanted to keep him in the hospital a few days with the catheter in place to closely monitor his sugar level and check for infection. About every four hours a nurse would come in and pull a urine sample out of a disk on the catheter. They had not yet seen the "Black Monstrosity”. Dad awakened from a drugged sleep to feel an all too familiar pressure ‑ the catheter was blocked. Along with the other pain this was more than he could tolerate. He pressed the button for the nurse. "Yes,” came the voice over the intercom, "what can we do for you?” Dad, "I think the damned catheter is stopped‑up, please send an orderly get it straightened out.” She told him someone would be right there. In about thirty seconds the door opened and in walked an angel. Dad knew she couldn't be a day over eighteen and on a scale of one to ten a definite fourteen ‑ she had come to work on the catheter. "I called for an orderly," Dad said. She informed him she was a Registered Nurse and well qualified to correct the problem with the catheter. With those words, she deftly flicked the sheet away, gently lifted the swollen member, and removed the kink from the catheter. Dad's relief was immediate. As she started out the door, Dad murmured an embarrassed "Thank you”. "THANK YOU," she responded with a mischievous grin as she closed the door. On the second day after surgery, the doctor told Dad he could plan on going home the next day and doing about anything he felt like. The doctor didn't think Dad would feel like doing too much for a week or so. Dad responded, "I guess you don't expect me to use this thing before I get home and you're probably going to insist that I wait until I get out of the hospital”. The Doctor didn't see the humor. "You damn well better not use IT for anything but taking a piss for the next month. You could seriously hurt yourself." Mom put things back in perspective with a laugh and the comment that she had planned on catching Dad before the swelling went down. My Dad was damned sore and he was talking a hell of a lot friskier than he felt. When it came time to leave the hospital for the trip home he had to sit with one leg on a pillow shared with the "Black Monstrosity”. Once home he didn't feel all that much like moving around. The first couple of days he tried to back‑off the painkillers with some success. There were times when he wished he hadn't tried. The Doctors have a tendency to down‑play the pain associated with this type of surgery. This is probably because they think there's a potential for an individual electing not to have surgery, if he thought only of the pain associated with the procedure. In retrospect Dad thinks it was well worth it. Fortunately, the human mind cannot remember pain itself, only that they had pain. If Dad lost his long-standing erection today, he would be even more eager for a replacement (they're using platinum rods today) than he was before he knew about the pain. I don't know exactly how long it was before Mom and Dad got it on again after the implant surgery. You can bet your ass it wasn't a month. The swelling had about dissipated after a week or so. Dad said the rebuilt tool was everything the Doctor had said it would be ‑ and a whole lot more besides. "The damn thing is unreal," he would say. Dad managed to restrain himself and not overburden the still black and blue organ for the first month. After that, he and Mom were like kids with a new toy. They were a lot like they were on a honeymoon, but a lot more comfortable and engaged in a lot more mutually enjoyable screwing. It was only now Mom and Dad began to realize, within the short time of only one year they had experienced a life time of deepest despair and the return to a level of happiness far greater than they could ever have normally expected or even hoped for. Dad says when he's eighty years old, sitting around with his old buddies, who are still trying to remember what it was they used to do with those girls when they caught them, he and Mom will still be "doing IT”. That operation has been one hell of an ego trip for him ‑ "unbelievable”, is the only word that comes close to describing his feelings. "So, it's only a prosthetic device.” One might say. Dad says, "Yeah ‑ my climax is more intense than it has ever been. Sex is more enjoyable that it has ever been and I perform a hell of a lot better than I ever did before." There's only one problem ‑ if she's feeling horny and I'm not, I can't claim that I can't get it up because of a headache." A few months after the implant surgery, Dad was scheduled for his regular physical with Max. When the examination, including a close scrutiny of Mom and Dad's new toy, was complete and Max had started for the door, he turned to Dad (still stretched naked on his back on the examination table), "That's the damnedest thing I've ever seen in my life, I've never seen anything like it”. He said as he stepped from the room. Max had a lot of questions that day, including: "What do you do with it when you're walking around?" Dad, "I don't have that much of a problem. It's there, and it's obvious that something is. I usually carry my key ring or a twist of tobacco in the pocket on that side. I can't wear jockey shorts or tennis shorts (He looked like the cartoon explanation of why Hillbillies couldn't wear Bermuda shorts). I haven't been able to find a bathing suit I could wear in public without being arrested.” I usually just wear a pair of cutoff Levis when I go swimming. All that's a small price to pay and my wife seems to be happy with it. Later that week Dad went to see Joe for the first checkup after the implant surgery. He told Dad everything seemed to be great (no pun intended). There was no indication that he had not gotten all the cancer. He asked Dad how his bladder control was since the implant surgery. Dad told him he only leaked a couple of drops sometimes when he sneezed. “Hell,” Mom had been doing that for years. For a long time Dad has heard doctors who say that prostate cancer had very little effect a man's sex life. He has never heard one tell it like it really is. Even Joe, right from the beginning, didn't tell it like it was. When Dad went to see Joe for his three-year checkup after the prostate surgery, Joe gave him a more thorough than usual and much more painful examination, (Dad told him he better not catch him with both hands on his shoulders). "Well," he said after the examination, "I guess I can tell you now, seriously, you are doing fine, ‑ most men your age who have had prostate cancer don't make it for three years. After this length of time, I don't think you've got anything at all to worry about." Dad told Joe he was damn glad he had waited three years to tell him that. While, shortly after the prostate surgery, Dad was somewhat reluctant to talk about his operations, he later thought that his discussing it may help someone else. "The point is catching it soon enough. That is where so many men neglect themselves. They don't get thorough prostate exams, and that is why so many more men die of prostate cancer than women do from uterine cancer ‑ the women get the exams in time for early detection. Because of the sexual aspects associated with prostate cancer, people (including doctors) don't talk about it that much. Mom and Dad were very much that way. They were, in some unexplainable way, ashamed I guess and didn't want to advertise the fact. Some friends who found out Dad had undergone prostate surgery gave them sympathetic looks. A few had enough guts to, pointedly, ask questions, mostly about what it had done to their sex life.” My Mom also got a few passes along the way. I've tried to record things here as My Dad remembered them, the pain, the anguish, the frustration and, yes, the joy in knowing that no matter how bad things get, they can get better than they were before. All in all it was one hell of a character building experience. After his recovery, Dad's whole outlook on life changed. He has a much revised set of priorities. Things that used to really upset ("godamned motherfucker" kind of upset) him, don't rattle his cage at all anymore. He now laughs at most of them. My Dad is over seventy now ‑ a hell of a lot of his life is behind him. He has not done a lot of the things he'd planned to do when he was younger. He looks at life more objectively now and can't think of many things he would have done differently. He may look back at his life and say, "God damn, I wish I had not done this or that”. He won't look back and say, "I wish I had done ‑‑‑‑‑“. "Happiness" is his only true measure of success. He attributes his greatest success to his Bride of almost fifty years. (He still opens doors for her). Tweet
This is part 3 of a total of 3 parts. | ||
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