I just wanted to say thanks to everyone who’s wished me well over the past day. I obviously have had better days, but all things considered I’m feeling fairly positive about the outlook for the future.
I’ve done a lot of reading in the last day, and one thing that I am grateful for, other than the support of friends and readers, is that I’ve been exposed to feminist thought. I know, it seems strange to bring that up in terms of testicular cancer, but I’m serious. One of the recurring themes I’ve seen in my readings is the concern that losing a testicle will make one “less of a man.”
This isn’t a silly fear; we metaphorically refer to manly gumption as “having balls.” We talk freely about men being “neutered” or “castrated” when they’re silenced or marginalized. The testes, even more than the penis, are the metaphorical seat of manliness in popular culture. And so for many men, the loss of a testicle, even in the service of preventing death from cancer, is a traumatic psychological experience.
Fortunately for me, I’ve been exposed to the idea that what defines a person is not their gonads. I am no more “manly” with two testicles than I will be with one, and if cancer takes that one someday, I’ll still be no less manly. Who I am is not dictated by my genitals. And while there are no doubt a few MRA types who will find my demicastration appropriate, I will simply remember that I know an awful lot of humans who have never had testicles, who nevertheless embrace life without fear, who exhibit all the best of “manly” characteristics — bravery, loyalty, intrepidity — despite not being men at all.
And so I know that the loss of a testicle doesn’t make me lose my identity, any more than the loss of my gall bladder has made me a different person. That knowledge is a gift. Yes, it’s scary to face the potential of cancer, and I’m not looking forward to surgery. But at least I do not need to fear that I am going to come out of surgery somehow less worthy than I was before.
I want to put that WORDS poster on a t-shirt!