Dr. Harris was concerned. This type of tumor normally develops in the testicles and causes a lot of pain in the groin before it spreads. He examined my scrotum and prostate (I refuse to describe this particular test!) and found no evidence of cancer there. So he ordered a number of additional tests. I was injected with more dye and scanned head to toe. I got additional x-rays all over my body. More body fluids were collected along with a stool sample. I gave the labs a lot of work.

Four of the tests were of particular note. The first one was an ultrasound of my scrotum.

I confess that I was sort of nervous when the nurse came to prepare my scrotum for the test. She explained that she had to shave it. I know she was as gentle as she possibly could be, but I want to tell you, it was uncomfortable! Having a razor pass so close to the family jewels was bad enough, but having to endure this while she held my manhood to one side was humiliating! I'm glad she was a professional. And she tried to calm my nerves by telling some funny stories as she worked. She finished quickly and I was taken to the ultrasound room.

I am convinced that the Universe is perverse. The ultrasound technician was proof of my conviction. I mean, I was here to have that most private part of my male anatomy scanned by a manual process. It was bad enough that the tech was a woman. But she was HOT! This woman was drop-dead gorgeous! I reacted the way any man would under the circumstances. And she was going to be handling the part of me that was reacting! Again, I am thankful for her professionalism. I suppose she was used to it by now.

The test was worse than the preparation. My scrotum was coated with (cold!) lubricating jelly and the ultrasound sensor was slid over them. The pressure was just about unbearable. The whole thing only took a few minutes, but it seemed like an eternity. I left convinced that Hell was an ultrasound of one's testicles. Little did I know.

The second test was not uncomfortable, just annoying. But it did have its amusing aspects. It was a bipedal lymphangiagram.

The same nurse who shaved the family jewels was now tasked to prepare my feet. She washed them, shaved them (I'm part Hobbit I guess) , and draped them with cloths. I was wheeled up to the OR again where I got a shot of lidocaine in each foot and a shot of methyl blue between the toes of each foot. The dye was squeezed down the foot and the surgeon made an incision on the top of each foot. The dye revealed the location of my lymph ducts. He opened one on each foot and inserted a catheter. Then he started the pump.

The pump was two huge syringes, one for each foot. They were filled with a dye which fluoresced when exposed to x-rays. The dye was being pumped into me to get a picture of my lymphatic system. Seminoma, it seems, liked to spread through the lymphatic system and this would show if it was using mine.

I was able to watch the whole thing. For once I got to see a surgeon slice away at me. It was interesting. He pointed out how the lymph ducts were colored by the methyl blue, making them easy to distinguish. I noticed that my legs were aching as the pumping continued and told the surgeon about it. He assured me that this was quite normal. And about 15 minutes later, he said that one of the syringes was nearly done, and when it finished the ache in my legs would vanish. He was right! It was like somebody flipped a switch. A minute later it happened to the other leg. The dye was now in my lymph system. The surgeon was satisfied, and so he stitched me up. He said that I should leave the stitches in for two weeks and if I was out of the hospital by then that my family doctor could remove them.

Before I returned to my room, I was taken to x-ray to get films of my entire body. When this was finished, the nurse packed my feet in ice and I was wheeled back to my room. My feet would remain packed in ice for the next twelve hours. This was the most uncomfortable part of the whole procedure.

Ironically, that night my roommate Dave and I were watching a classic movie, Bride of Frankenstein. As the creature was raised into the tower to be animated by lightning, I looked over at Dave and said, "Hey, look, she's getting a lymphangiagram!" We both had a good laugh.

One other thing must be mentioned. A side effect of the methyl blue injected between my toes was that it got into my urine. For the next two days I peed blue.