Extra Volume
Do a search on "trans-rectal prostate biopsy". Or better yet, don't. It's not something worth investigating if you don't have to have one.
To prepare for one of these one must get an enema. Self-administered if possible unless not possible or unless that kind of , what do they call it, "play" is your thing. It is definitely not my thing.
However my significant other was kind enough to pick up the equipment for me. Super-kind in that she bought me the "extra" size, as in "extra volume", i.e. more salt water to shoot up your ass. I had that one coming for years, I suppose.
I successfully executed that step while home alone. Turns out it is surprisingly refreshing, so much so that a brief run through an internet chat board concerning proper execution included threads cautioning folks to not do it more than once a week and not to drink the stuff. It wasn't that good for me, folks.
The procedure itself is fairly undignified since it is sorta-kinda surgery in my opinion in that they're cutting 14 pieces out of your body. However the way it goes is "step into this room, drop yer drawers to your knees and assume the fetal position on your side". Now "change into this nice gown", no other niceties.
I stopped, dropped, and rolled onto the table and away we went, first an injection that was supposed to numb the area although I seem to recall an elapsed time of greater than five seconds between the injection of Novocaine and the commencement of a dental procedure but maybe it's different approaches for different ends.
I felt pretty much every cut. I counted every click and at 12 I thought I was done since they had said they would take "about a dozen" samples. The clicks and jolts kept coming however and I realized that I was only feeling every other click which meant every other click was them placing the sample in the container.
They were fast, however, and within about five minutes and 28 clicks I was out and ready to spend, as promised, the next week with blood coming out of every excretory orifice .
"How do you feel?" the nurse asked.
"Well a nice dinner first would have been better" I replied, making a joke they've probably heard roughly 75% of the time they've had to do an exam or procedure involving an asshole. I mean a literal asshole, not me, though I supposed both are true in this case.
To prepare for one of these one must get an enema. Self-administered if possible unless not possible or unless that kind of , what do they call it, "play" is your thing. It is definitely not my thing.
However my significant other was kind enough to pick up the equipment for me. Super-kind in that she bought me the "extra" size, as in "extra volume", i.e. more salt water to shoot up your ass. I had that one coming for years, I suppose.
I successfully executed that step while home alone. Turns out it is surprisingly refreshing, so much so that a brief run through an internet chat board concerning proper execution included threads cautioning folks to not do it more than once a week and not to drink the stuff. It wasn't that good for me, folks.
The procedure itself is fairly undignified since it is sorta-kinda surgery in my opinion in that they're cutting 14 pieces out of your body. However the way it goes is "step into this room, drop yer drawers to your knees and assume the fetal position on your side". Now "change into this nice gown", no other niceties.
I stopped, dropped, and rolled onto the table and away we went, first an injection that was supposed to numb the area although I seem to recall an elapsed time of greater than five seconds between the injection of Novocaine and the commencement of a dental procedure but maybe it's different approaches for different ends.
I felt pretty much every cut. I counted every click and at 12 I thought I was done since they had said they would take "about a dozen" samples. The clicks and jolts kept coming however and I realized that I was only feeling every other click which meant every other click was them placing the sample in the container.
They were fast, however, and within about five minutes and 28 clicks I was out and ready to spend, as promised, the next week with blood coming out of every excretory orifice .
"How do you feel?" the nurse asked.
"Well a nice dinner first would have been better" I replied, making a joke they've probably heard roughly 75% of the time they've had to do an exam or procedure involving an asshole. I mean a literal asshole, not me, though I supposed both are true in this case.
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