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
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