Nope, not those balls.
Oh, baseball. After all, it's April and everyone knows how much I do love those Red Sox.
Not those balls either.
Let me give you a hint: In many parts of the country, bulls need to run and hide or theirs could end up on someone's plate renamed Rocky Mountain Oysters.
Yeah, those balls.
Wait. Know my balls? THOSE balls? Last I checked I didn't have any. In fact, if I remember my High School Sex Ed correctly, women characteristically don't (except my friend Betsy, and you can buy hers here: Happylicious by Betsy).
But all the men I know do. Well, that may be presumptuous, but I'm willing to go out on a limb here. Quick side note to my male friends, please do not start sending me pictures. Really, no visual confirmation necessary, thank you very much.
Years ago I wrote an entire post about the blogging trend of writing about bodily functions and body parts. In Virginia is the New Furt, I declared my intention to give that particular trend a pass. I would not be discussing my "Virginia" on the interwebs.
So, of course, here I am talking about balls.
This is my story, and I'm sticking to it (you knew there was going to be a story, right?): I receive a ton of emails in relation to this blog. It's why it has its own email address. With more frequency than I'd like to admit, I'm asked to write for this or that company. I consider them all but rarely accept.
Last November when Shannon of Tommy John, a men's undergarment company, contacted me about including her brand in a post, I declined. But Shannon got
Well played, Shannon, well played.
You see I'm not only married, and not only the mother of two boys, but I also have a friend whose husband had testicular cancer. I approached Elizabeth about this post and she generously agreed to share her story. From my friend Elizabeth:
I am the wife of a testicular cancer survivor. I'm lucky to be able to say that. My husband found a lump long before he did anything about it. I'm not sure why, but I can imagine. Maybe in our hectic young married lives he just forgot about it. Maybe he'd convinced himself it was nothing.
I was 6 months into a difficult pregnancy with our first child when he was diagnosed. From there it was a whirlwind of action and emotion. He went into treatment immediately. My pregnancy, his diagnosis, banking sperm, surgery, months of radiation before work, I'm not sure we really had a chance to process it, either of us. It all just seemed so surreal.
He recovered. Despite his delay in seeking a diagnosis, it was caught early enough. We went on to successfully have 2 more children through artificial insemination. All these years later I look across the table at my husband, I look at the beautiful family we created and I know it could have gone differently. I appreciate how very lucky I am to be able to say that I am the wife of a testicular cancer survivor.
Some general information as provided to me:
*One male is diagnosed with testicular cancer every hour. That's 24 men a day.
*Testicular cancer is the most easily detected form of cancer.
*The survival rate for testicular cancer is 99% when caught early.
*Testicular cancer is the most common cancer in males ages 15 - 34.
*Awareness is low about the risks for testicular cancer and the precautions that should be taken, jeopardizing the chances of early detection.
So, to all the women out there, here's your opportunity. In this Testicular Cancer Awareness Month, give your men a kick in the pants. We are advised to feel ourselves up, it's only fair that we ask our men to feel themselves down . . . so to speak.
Please. It's important.
Because these people really care,
about, you know,
what ya got down there.