At the time of the event I was a 42 year old single man living in Silicon Valley. I had not had sex or even been out on a date in several years. This is not uncommon in Silicon Valley as there are very few single women compared to single men and introverted nerds like myself are greatly disadvantaged. I am in good physical shape but on the thin side. I am not particularly handsome but not ugly either. My biggest liability is probably not my looks but my introversion. All in all, in this environment, this means I will not get a date without considerable effort on my part. I also do not masturbate very often; no more than once a month, if that. I guess between work and worrying about the economy I haven’t haven’t felt very motivated to pursue women or even to masturbate. For about 15 years I have had some minor health issues that I believed to be prostate related. I get occasional impaired urinary flow; nothing very severe, but noticeable. This waxes and wanes over the years. I’ve had a few digital rectal prostate exams during these years which were always, surprisingly, normal. Recently, the impairment seemed worse than it usually is and, since I hadn’t had a prostate exam in about four years, I decided to make an appointment with my doctor to ease my mind that nothing sinister was developing. My doctor was a new doctor who I had known for about two years and had seen for a couple of minor issues during that time. This doctor was also a woman doctor — my first. She was a young doctor, probably in her early thirties. When I first saw her she had just finished her residency and, being a new doctor, was one of the few doctors who were still accepting new patients. When my employer switched health insurance providers my previous doctor, who had a private practice, was no longer “in network” so I picked the new doctor at a nearby large not-for-profit institution which was “in kızılay escort network”. You might say that I had a crush on this doctor. She was young and very attractive. The celebrity she most resembles is probably Anna Torv, the actress who plays Olivia Dunham on the TV series Fringe. I never got a good look at her figure because I’ve never seen her without her lab coat, but she looked fit under there, and we had discussed fitness before so I knew that she went jogging regularly. Other than that, I had no other personal information about her. She also seemed interested in me. By that I mean that she seemed friendlier and more personal with me than she needed to be. Perhaps this is just a delusion of an introverted nerd, but I’d like to think that she wasn’t this way with all her patients. Maybe she was attracted to my intelligence (I do have a Ph.D.). One can hope. I made an appointment and eventually saw her. I had some reservations about the prostate exam. One one hand, it was probably prudent to get a prostate exam and being examined by my hot doctor was a bit titillating. On the other hand, I liked this doctor and wanted her to have a high opinion of me and, somehow, the idea of her thinking of me as a middle-aged man with prostate problems made me sad. I definitely was not going to ask her to examine my prostate, rather I was going to ask her if she thought I could get a Prostate Specific Antigen (PSA) test given my history of intermittent urinary flow problems despite being younger than fifty, which is the age where the PSA test is usually recommended. I believe they teach doctors in medical school that men don’t like prostate exams and that doctors need to be insistent and proactive about this. So far, every doctor I’ve seen acts this way. As soon as the word “prostate” is mentioned, they are reaching kolej escort for the gloves and lube. They won’t ask if you want the exam or even if you will allow them to perform it; they will demand that you drop your trousers and bend over and will act like you don’t even have a choice. My new doctor was no exception. The first mention of “prostate” had her reaching for the gloves and lube. Needless to say, this exam like all others was not sexy at all. It was over in a matter of seconds. Furthermore, the pressure she used on my prostate was firmer than any male doctor had ever applied. As she pressed down, I could feel the sensation of fluid being squeezed into my urethra. I felt a slight bit of panic that she may have left me dribbling all over the place. I didn’t check. I just quickly pulled up my pants. She told me that my prostate was enlarged (oh oh) and she wanted to get a urine sample from me to look for signs of infection. This is the first prostate exam where I’ve been informed of anything other than a normal finding. She said the nurse would be back to get a urine sample from me and that I should make an appointment to get the PSA test in a couple weeks. She wanted me to wait until sometime after the prostate exam because the exam itself could cause the PSA levels to be high, so we should allow some time for it to go back to my normal levels before the measurement. The nurse led me to the restroom so I could collect a urine sample and there I finally got to check if I was leaking. To my surprise I was not, but when I squeezed my penis a couple drops of milky fluid dripped out. I made the appointment for the PSA test and went home. In a few days I received a call from my doctor. She said there was blood in my urine sample and she would be referring me to a urologist. She gave me the phone number of the urology maltepe escort office and volunteered that she had gotten good feedback about Doctor N–. She said Doctor M– was also very good but some patients complained that he could be a bit terse. I called the urology office. Doctor N– was on vacation and didn’t have an opening for a month or so. Doctor M– had a cancellation and could see me in two days. I made an appointment with Doctor M–. I went to see the urologist Doctor M–. They had me provide a urine sample before the prostate exam. Doctor M– is an old man, probably close to 80 years old and this exam is equally unsexy. He wants to squeeze out some prostate fluid to look at under the microscope. He presses down on my prostate and holds a microscope slide at the tip of my penis to capture any fluid, but none comes. He literally grabs my penis and squeezes it once like he’s milking a cow to force out a drop of fluid onto his slide. I’m one of those people who produces little if any pre-seminal fluid so I think my urethra tends to be drier than most and, without that lubrication, fluids like semen do not flow out easily. I’m instructed to wait in the doctor’s office and am told that he’ll be with me after the microscope inspection. In the doctor’s office he explains that he does not see any blood in my prostate fluid or in my urine and that the blood level in my previous urine sample is actually fairly low and could be caused by the prostate exam alone. He explains that my prostate is enlarged but that he believes it to be merely “congestion” and not anything serious. In short, he’s not worried about this and says he will write to my doctor to explain his findings. I am relieved by the information provided by the urologist but, as usual, the right questions to ask do not occur to me until later in the day when I realize I should have asked him why I have “congestion” and if I should be doing anything about it. I’m starting to realize why my doctor warned about the urologist’s terseness. The next week I take the PSA test that was ordered by my doctor earlier and await the results. After a week passes without hearing from them I call my doctor’s office to inquire about the results.