Do you want to know a secret? I had a friend in college, we'll call him Charlie Brown, whose testicle twisted up on him - 720 degrees as a matter of fact. Half of the bugger spun around twice, in other words, resulting in abdominal pain like you wouldn't believe and creating a life-threatening situation. He had to be rushed to the hospital and have the testicle removed. His roommate and I went to visit him and, as the school nurse was coming out of the room, his roommate asked, "So, did you get everything straightened out?" We doubled up in laughter and have been making jokes ever since. Often we'd start humming, whistling, or singing "Twist and Shout" when he was with us in the weeks that followed. (How can something so bad feel so good?)
As Charlie Brown recovered, he asked the nurse if he would be able to have children with one testicle. Personally, I would be more concerned with being able to ever show my face again in public. But people value different things. The nurse assured him that he would have no problems.
And while we each had our own favorite theory about how and why it happened, the doctor told Charlie Brown that this sort of thing can occur willy-nilly. Scary. Who needs to be afraid of the bogeyman or the Count when you have something like this lurking in the back of your mind? So for the last 15 years, every odd ache or strange twinge in my groin always leads me down the road of panic: Is it my time? I wonder. Is one of them twisting? But it has not, not yet, been my time to sit down and cry.
(By the way, the last time I heard, Charlie Brown had three children.)