Balls Read Free

why not risk that?
    Holding his hands out to Martz, supplicatingly, he told him, Doc, listen, I…I found a growth…on my testicle.
    A growth? said Martz. The doctor quit writing at once and dispensed with his clipboard.
    Yes, Henry told him. About the size of pea and solid hard.
    Which testicle is it?
    The left.
    Lower your underpants. Lower them. Come on, Martz half-shouted.
    Henry did as he was told, but his hands were shaking, his throat was suddenly dry and Martz, himself, seemed genuinely agitated watching Henry recline onto the table. Without delay the doctor’s gloved hand seized Henry’s crotch. The digging of his fingers made Henry nauseous.
    Where is it? he asked. Is it here?
    A little lower, said Henry, turning his face to the wall. At the far end of the table his right foot trembled.
    Martz was drawing Henry’s scrotum one way and back the other. He did it a half-dozen times. Henry had had many physicals performed right here. During any one of them the doctor had spent between ten and twenty seconds inspecting his testicles. But Martz had never treated them this aggressively. He was yanking on the skin, forcing the testes in every which direction.
    At last he said, Mmmmmm.
    You’ve found it?
    I’ve found something.
    Henry peered down at his sideward bending penis in all that black hair, ready to cry. He said, What is it?
    Between the brown examination table and hazardous material box and jars of syringes, Martz pulled off his gloves. He didn’t answer Henry’s question, but told him to dress. Anxiously rubbing his mouth with thumb and forefinger he remained silent, his light eyes flickering, his face tense and searching. He said, Henry, I want you to listen to me. I’m not going to tell you to worry just yet.
    You’re not?
    No . I want to give a call over to Dr. Glen Dahl. He’s a urologist on East 74th Street. You’ll see him today.
    I’ll go there this minute?
    Exactly.
    Martz placed his hand firmly on Henry’s shoulder. Staring into his patient’s eyes, he said, We don’t know what this is. It could be nothing. So please, Henry, try and be calm.
    Try and be calm? said Henry, to himself. But how?
    It was forty minutes later and he was in his second examination room of the day, this one at the Park Avenue offices of Dr. Glen Dahl. In a blue gown left open at the back he paced the cool, metallic room. The air conditioning was degrees colder here than at Martz’s and Henry, still damp from the rain, was shivering. He had arrived by taxi. But on the way over he’d already begun to feel that he was being had. These doctors were using fear to ensnare him. He was their victim, he and others . They threw you into these trials and what could you do but follow their orders, paying at each stop along the way. Thank god for George. His father’s brother owned a car dealership up in Yonkers. Three year ago he’d put Henry on payroll so as to provide him with medical insurance (albeit illegally). Henry couldn’t afford to be here otherwise.
    The room was small and gloomy, and the furniture—an examination table, a wooden coat stand, a red felt upholstered chair and metal file cabinet—struck him as old. The mahogany cupboard storing medical supplies was also an outdated model. But where had Martz sent him? Who was this doctor that couldn’t keep up with the times and present the newest designs? His lips fluttering, Henry’s attention shifted to the medical literature tacked to the walls. His hand on his brow, as if anticipating pain there, he began to read about infections of the epididymis, torsions of the testicle, the TSE:
    Testicular Self-Examination:
    1. Place thumb atop testicle; the index and middle fingers below.
    2. Roll the testicle back and forth.
    3. Be aware of any changes to your testicle, of size or shape, or if any lumps or swelling have occurred.
    4. A healthy testicle is egg-shaped, firm, yet smooth
    5.