I guess though, when you've had someone shove their finger up your bum or been probed about with MRI or with an ultrasound scanner, there's not much left to reveal about your physical self, other than what you actually do with your body when you're not sprawled on the examination table.
It continues in a bizarrely formal way in the documents you need to complete before your pre-op discussions. The "Male Health Inventory" for example is a form that probes you about erectile dysfunction, ease of urination and bowel function. "How often were your erections hard enough for penetration?" it blithely asks and you score yourself from one to five.
Gloria, of course, has found this hilarious and is now regularly scoring me on all sorts of aspects of our daily life, not excluding any of the above-mentioned. "That was a three!" she'll happily yell as I look in shame at what I've produced ... the omelette, I'm talking about here. Great for the old male ego, I can tell you.
However, these forms all have a really good purpose - making sure that the hospital teams know how well or otherwise you're likely to react to surgery and what your post-operative priorities are. (Getting well enough to have a few glasses of wine apparently doesn't feature!) So, if you have a relatively active sex life, it's a given that you're probably wanting that to continue. By the same token, if your urination is free-flowing and joyful, you're more likely to be able to withstand the issues that arise when your prostate is bashed about during the insertion of the radioactive material.
The screening and health questionnaire that also accompanies this form asks you to detail what health issues you've had. Where should I begin? At the age of 68, I've had more than my fair share of issues and there appears to be a forest of ticks in the Yes panel, but nowhere to explain the details. This is going to take a long time. The stopper is always the alcohol question, though .. do you routinely lie when the doctor asks you how many units you drink? I've stopped doing that and just admit that I rather like a glass or two of wine and, ooh yes, that does seem to add up to a lot of units, doesn't it?
Any body-piercings? Nope - well, not until I've had a bunch of radioactive rods (see what I did there?) inserted into my prostate. Pacemaker or implants? Nope. Could I be pregnant? Ah - sorry, it says for Women only. Isn't that discrimination? What medicine do you normally take for pain? I'm guessing alcohol is not an appropriate answer here.
The certain thing is that you have to fill this in as truthfully, completely and objectively as possible, even if that is going to lead to uncomfortable questions.
So, my forms are complete and I'm now waiting for my pre-clerking appointment which takes place on 5 February. This is the pre-operative assessment and they'll be quizzing me further about my answers on the forms and then taking my observations - height, weight, blood pressure and so on.
The time is coming closer for the op and I confess to a little nervousness. However, this is really not hugely invasive on the scale of potential operations that one could have - or, indeed that I have had. Looking forward to a bright future then, I'll produce my assessment forms with confidence and wait for the admiration of all those around me. ("Three!" shouts Gloria.)
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