Medical Examinations

Morning, way too early. Noise – train, subway. Beware of poison gases.
Pants down, medical examination today.

I still have to go to it, that is an annual tradition here in the schools, I consoled myself with the idea that this might be the last time. This time we were dropped by bus in one of those shabby old buildings in Brussels. 

Three divided rooms. An examination room for the eyes, weight, posture and teeth, an office to test one’s hearing and a gender test room, a testicle test for the men, to see if everything is well developed.

For the hearing test, I entered a small room with a measuring instrument behind which was a young lady with long blond hair, full red lips and a firm bosom. No, this is not fiction, she really was like that. 

She placed headphones on me and I had to indicate where I heard the beeps coming from.
After about five minutes, she finished.

“That all seems normal to me.”
“Well, I’m still young, why shouldn’t it be?”
“Ah you know.”
I looked at her wonderingly.
“If you masturbate too much, it can make you go deaf.”
My mouth fell open. 
“So, with you it’s not so bad.” She winked. 
Is she kidding me or flirting with me?
“Just kidding huh, no, the youth who live with earbuds in, listening to screaming socials, or go to festivals and hang out at the big basses, there are those who do occasionally get hearing damage or suffer from tinnitus.” She said to me in a more restrained tone, then leaned a little toward and slipped a document to me.

“Would you maybe like to fill out this paper. You see, I’m doing a paper on the condom – use among art students and their opinions about it, the difference from normal students.”
I looked at her, smiled briefly and slid it back.
“Sorry, but I don’t have much to say about that.”

I was quickly outside again.

The next little room was one with a real doctor, a woman with whiskers and thick sturdy fingers. I entered in black T-shirt, orange boxers, and two pairs of socks. She laughed with me.

“Two socks on top of each other? What’s the deeper meaning of that?”
“The black socks are actually too big and they sag if I don’t wear a pair underneath, but since I only have white ones left – which my mother used to buy me all the time – I wear the black ones – from my father’s work – over them. It’s not art, but purely functional.”

“Well that’s good thinking then, now put the boxer down, and I’ll see if everything is still in place.”

She put on a rubber glove and felt my balls. I pulled back a little because I felt slight pain. She looked up at me.

“Does this hurt you?”
“Uh, yeah, sometimes, like something’s stuck, but it goes away. But isn’t that normal when you wear tight jeans.”
“Well, I see a vein splash and feel a slight torsion. I would have that checked out anyway.”
She pulled her gloves back off.
“Just pull up your pants, I’m going to give you a paper for the doctor.”
I looked startled.
“Is it bad?”
“No, but you need to get it treated, otherwise your testicle may not get enough blood flow and deliver poor sperm or even can die. But your testicle is not very swollen and obviously still sets back sometimes. With a minor surgery, one can fix this. They simply sew your testicle to your scrotum in such a way that it no longer gets tangled.”

After waiting several hours for this annual ritual and having been inside for 10 shocking minutes, I could leave.

No that was not a pleasant experience. I called my mother and she would immediately make an appointment with the doctor. After that examination, the doctor made an appointment with the hospital for an ultrasound. Then they would operate my balls. 

Just the thing I felt most insecure about was now also literally bothering me. It’s part of life for sure, part of being a romantic in this fucking exciting world, not everything goes the way you imagine it in your fantasies, where a handsome young doctor looks deep into your eyes, grabs you by the balls, looks at your magic stick admiringly and slides her beautiful red-lipped lips over your cock and gently sucks. No, that’s not how it went at all.