Let’s begin at the beginning: August 2015. Last August I began to worry about Doug’s health after hearing him try to stifle groans of agony while he was in the bathroom. He’d had a very painful condition for years, Lichen Sclerosis, which made urinating painful, but this was different. I gently suggested he see a doctor and he gently declined, until finally in mid-September I noticed a growth that looked like a huge blood blister on the head of his penis. That’s when I became insistent that he see a doctor, and he reluctantly agreed. A friend helped Doug get an appointment with a urologist.
The two-week wait was mentally and emotionally exhausting for us, and physically agonizing for Doug. Finally, we saw the doctor on the first Wednesday in October. He talked to us pleasantly, looked at Doug’s penis and calmly said, “We’re going to do a biopsy,” and then told his assistant to schedule it for Friday. Friday?! Doug and I were surprised that he was making room in his busy surgery schedule for Friday, rather than waiting until Monday. My stomach dropped and we both were silent as we drove home. (to be continued tomorrow…)