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a selection from:

Man to Man: Surviving Prostate Cancer by Michael Korda
continuing Part IV - Recovery



Page 247 - (go to page 246)

My behavior as Dr. Eid injected the left side of my penis was craven enough to shake his very considerable sangfroid. I tried to imagine doing this to myself, and failed. After all, he was a doctor; he presumably knew how to give injections. Even if I practiced a lot on oranges, I did not think I could plunge the needle into my own penis myself. Still, many people did, I reminded myself.

I felt him withdraw it. ''Good,'' he said. ''You see? What did I tell you? It was nothing.'' He told me to stand up — the injection works best if the patient stands after it has been administered, and it may even be necessary for him to perform intercourse either standing or kneeling. He opened a drawer and handed me two issues of Penthouse and one of Playboy. I was to flick through these and arouse myself while I stood. He would return in fifteen minutes or so to observe the result. Moodily, I swayed from bare foot to bare foot, flicking through the photographs in the magazines, while my penis throbbed. Seldom, if ever, had pornography had less effect on me. Not even the Penthouse Pet of the Month (for July of the previous year, I noted with an editor's eye), fingering the folds of her vagina as she smiled wistfully toward the camera, could arouse anything in me except a deep desire to be somewhere else and an overwhelming sense of how ridiculous my position was. Still, I reminded myself, almost everything to do with sex was ridiculous, if you thought about it long enough.

I was interrupted in this train of thought by the arrival of the erection Dr. Eid had promised. It was not, perhaps, an erection on a scale to excite fans of XXX-rated movies, but it was definitely there. And it hurt like hell.

It occurred to me, standing there looking at Playboy, that most of my life women have been telling me that sex isn't about erections, or penetration, it is about feelings, love, communication, contact-words which fell on deaf ears, in my case, as they do in the case of practically all men. I will not say that there have been no moments in my life when I understood what they meant (without necessarily believing them), but the advice played little or no part in my own feelings about sexual intercourse or male sexual identity. Erection and penetration seemed to me what it was about, although I was open to other activities if sufficiently persuaded. Now, suddenly, I got the picture. After all, here I was, with a perfectly good erection, without even the slightest trace of sexual desire, no matter how earnestly I studied Playboy's Playmate for May 1995.


Selections reproduced at www.phoenix5.org with the kind permission of the author. Copyright © 1996, 1997 by Success Research Corporation

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