Banking Sperm Before Testicular Cancer Treatment Changed My Life

My dad taught me the importance of "checking yourself" in the shower when I was young. He told me to feel around to make sure everything was as it should be or has been and to check for lumps or bumps. So I "checked myself" from time to time. I don't remember if it was weekly or monthly, but I did it and for a long time everything checked out just fine.

Shortly before my 20th birthday I was taking a shower and felt something slightly off on my right testicle. It didn't hurt, but something was there. It almost felt like I had a zit. I didn't think much about it until the weekend was over. I was getting ready for class on Monday morning. There it was again.

I thought to myself, "Hmm, that is strange. That zit is still there. Is it…getting bigger?" I didn't know if it was getting bigger, but something was certainly there. So off to the internet I went. And the internet said it was cancer. I thought, "Of course, this is what the internet would say."

Nevertheless, I called my good friend and we walked to the emergency room to have it checked. After an ultrasound, some blood tests and hours of waiting, the urologist came into the room.

"It looks like you have cancer, but the only way to know for certain is to remove it," he said. "I have scheduled you for surgery first thing tomorrow morning."

I'm sure he said some other things during our exchange but that is all I got from it. Cancer? Surgery? It was all moving so quickly. I hardly had any time to digest all of the news. Suddenly, it dawned on me that I hadn't let my parents know I had gone to the ER.

The next day, I had surgery an orchiectomy to remove my right testicle. The surgery was successful, and the pathology report confirmed I indeed had testicular cancer. Fortunately, it was stage 1A.

A conversation with my doctor led us to go with surveillance as my "treatment." I didn't mind not getting chemotherapy or any other type of treatment afterward. Each test and scan, though, caused days of anxiety as I waited for the results. In the cancer world, we refer to this as "scanxiety."

About two years into surveillance, I noticed some swelling in my left testicle. It was tender, too. These weren't the symptoms I experienced before, but I didn't want to take any chances. After all, this was my only remaining testicle.

Sidebar: When I was younger, I had always thought you couldn't live without testicles. I'm not sure why, but I blame MTV.

Anyway, back to the swelling and tenderness. I went to my urologist, and he checked it out with an ultrasound and blood tests. Eventually, he told me, "I don't think it's cancer." What a relief!

Instead, he prescribed an antibiotic for a disease called epididymitis, which is basically the swelling of a tube, the epididymis, that is attached to the back of your testicle near the top. Sperm mature there. Unfortunately, a month and a half went by without much relief.

I went back to the urologist. He performed an ultrasound and some blood tests. This time he came back and said, "It looks like you might have testicular cancer and the only way to know is to operate."

It sounded all too uncomfortably familiar.

This time he recommended I get a second opinion the remaining family jewel was on the line so I did. The second urologist arrived at the same conclusion.

I'm thankful he recommended I bank sperm. He scheduled me for surgery in two weeks to allow me to bank an "adequate supply," whatever that meant. And so I did. First, I was going to do the mail-order service. Some additional research revealed a facility in town where I could make my "deposit." The future felt a lot safer with that route.

Before the surgery, I looked into getting a prosthetic testicle. I thought if I am going to be ball-less, I still wanted to have a sack of something down there.

So it happened that while home on winter break from college, I banked sperm (twice), had a testicle removed and had a prosthetic implanted. And again, after surgery, the pathology report confirmed I did have cancer. Again, it was stage 1. Interestingly, though, it was a completely different cancer than the first time.

My doctor and I talked about the next steps and what we would do about treatment. He was on the fence and I was stubborn about not having any additional surgeries lymph node removal or treatments because I wanted to graduate from college on time in the spring.

After a lot of thought and consideration, we opted for surveillance again. More than 11 years out from that second surgery, it was the right decision. I do think back sometimes and wish I would have eased my anxieties and opted for a different course, even if it was just for the peace of mind of knowing I did everything I could to make sure the cancer was gone.

I often think about how grateful I am to my urologist for recommending that I bank sperm prior to my second testicle removal. I was a 22-year-old college student, so having children wasn't really on my mind. I think banking sperm is probably not something someone receiving a testicular cancer diagnosis considers. Obviously, the main thought is, "How will we beat this?" Few young men think, "How will this impact my family planning in the future?"

In retrospect, I wonder if banking sperm before losing my first testicle or when my health was improved after my first orchiectomy definitely before my cancer recurred would have given us a better sperm sample for a better IVF outcome. Regardless, it is an important aspect that should at least be touched on during the discussions following testicular cancer diagnoses.

Now, I have a lot more to live for, so I continue to be proactive and stay on top of my health. I am not quite the age yet, but I will be sure to get my prostate checked regularly when appropriate. My daughter is a daily reminder to take care of myself and to ensure that my loved ones stay on top of their self-exams and checkups, because early detection saves lives.