Let’s talk about sex
My name is Leonard Ballosh, and I have syphilis. Yes, I know I should not be posting or even screaming about this at the top of my lungs, however, I want people to hear my story. Why? Because I want to raise awareness to sexual health and encourage people to go get themselves tested, especially after having a little unprotected hanky panky.
But lets go back to when all of this started. This summer, I went on a vacation up north with my family for our yearly vacation at our timeshare. During the trip, I noticed a “lump,” that located in my groin. I never put much thought into it, but I told my mom and she told me, “Oh it’s probably nothing. If it’s anything, it’s most likely a hernia.” Well, this “lump” ended up creating a little bit of pain, which I ignored since my family decided to have a grand ole time during this trip, from the minute we checked-in.
After I got back from vacation, I came back to Platteville, where I live and go to college. I had been back for maybe all of four days before I came back to my house with a two and half month old kitten from the Dubuque Regional Humane Society. Yes, I am an aspiring crazy cat person, wanting to eventually make a club about, plus, I got her for $50 with shots and her being fixed, and if I say so myself, that was a pretty good deal, without any coupons. Anyways, during this time, the “lump” decided to grow a little bit bigger and would hurt a little more each day. Of course, my mom’s words echoed in my head, “It’s probably a hernia,” so I kept ignoring it and taking it easy at work, by not lifting as much as I used to.
Fast forward to the beginning of August, I decided to go visit my family, who live four hours north of Platteville in Prescott, WI, which is half an hour outside of the Twin Cities (Go Vikings!).
After a nice visit and getting a bunch of groceries, I came back to Platteville and worked since the bills cannot pay for themselves sadly. When I got back to Platteville, I decided to buy new bed sheets because they were on sale at Wal-Mart (without a coupon), plus, I got sick of the nice teal beach monkey sheets my mom gave me when I moved into my house back in June. Shortly after getting the new sheets, which I did not wash right away because you know, there were not used, so what’s the worse that could happen?
Well, lets get this out of the way, I sleep naked. Why? Because why not? It’s something I have always done and it’s comfortable for me. Anyways, the worse started to happen, and bare with me on this one. I started to form this open sore like thing on the tip of my penis. And then another open sore started to appear on the shaft of my penis. My first thought was, “Oh dear god, did a random spider come into my bed all ninja like and bite me?” However, I did not find any spiders since my roommate sprayed our house with Home Defense, which prevents all those creepy crawlies from wanting to come into our house. I mentioned the sores to my mom, who thought it was coming from my bed sheets and that I was having a bad reaction to my new sheets since I did not wash them before using them.
Listening to my mom helped, a lot. So I decided to wash my sheets immediately along with all of my blankets to play it safe. However, things started to take an even worse route then anticipated. The first sore started to dry-up and created what appeared to be a scab, which I thought, was no big deal since I thought it was finally healed over from the sheets. But, the second sore kept getting worse. I thought it had something to do with where it was, and of course, when morning wood calls, that kind of thing stands at attention. Well, I put Neosporin and Band-Aids on both of them, since I would rather be safe then sorry. This method seemed to have worked for a little bit, until it got worse.
Three weeks ago, I decided to masturbate as any normal human would do because sex is what drives our culture along with pornography, which I still do not get why, but I guess it is the new social normative. However, the second sore became very irritated, obviously, but never to the extent where it became almost unbearable to even touch my penis. The irritation become bad enough that the area around the second sore became very inflamed and even swollen. It was very tender to the touch and it started to burn when I went to the bathroom.
At this point, the “lump” was at its largest. It grew to be the diameter of a quarter in size and it was noticeable enough that if I looked down at my crotch, I could see the difference between the left and right sides of my crotch. The “lump” had become painful to touch. It would hurt even when I took a shower, however, I still had the same words from my mom going through my head, “It’s a hernia and you had a very bad reaction to your bed sheets.”
Little did Mom or I realize how wrong she was. Last week, the “lump” shifted towards the middle of my crotch. I had mentioned to a couple of my fraternity brothers about this “lump” and was advised I should go see a doctor about it. I took their advice, and I am very happy I did.
I woke up last Friday and called Student Health Services on campus to set up an appointment for that afternoon. After my classes, I went to my appointment, where I broke down. I was scared beyond belief, however, I knew this issue needed to be addressed and fixed immediately. Of course, me being the worry-wart I am, thought it had to be cancer of some sort since the “lump” felt like someone taking a knife and jabbing me in the crotch. How women are able to do it every month is beyond me, but I give them a long round of applause because it’s amazing how they are able to handle it.
The doctor came in and we went over everything, from the symptoms to discussing my sex life. After 20 minutes, he came back with a conclusion, that it was lymphogranuloma venerum, a form of chlamydia that attacks my lymph nodes. With the first diagnosis, he also gave me another possible option, syphilis, which I ignored and did not think I could possibly get that, but I was dead wrong. After he told me what it could be, he took samples along with blood. The nurse was very nice even though she knew I was slightly freaking out.
I have a great fear of needles, specifically when it comes with having to draw blood. After she drew my blood, I was sent on my merry way and called the first person I needed to tell, my mom. Carol is a very interesting woman. She is mostly right and is very open when it comes to talking about nearly everything. When I first told her, she laughed. Yes, my mom laughed very hard and I ended up laughing about it with her. I told her how I had to get doxy-cyln, an antibiotic to help cure the infection and that I have to wait until the following week to hear of my test results.
Once I told my mom, I had to tell my dad, who lectured me and said how I need to “wrap my dick” for the 10 minutes I was on the phone with him. Of course, my dad cannot keep a secret to save his life, and told a family friend of ours. I refer to him as my Uncle Mitch since he is one of my dad’s best friends, and I can tell him anything without judgment. He text me that Sunday, “Consider it poison ivy, not fun but don’t let it keep you from enjoying the beauty of the woods!” It was from that point on, that no matter what the results would be, I had supportive family behind me.
When I told my fraternity brothers (no, we do not have parties like everyone thinks), everyone laughed. And I kind of found myself in a funny position, because all I had to do was laugh about it. Why? Because it made the situation turn from bad to funny. One of my own roommates laughed for 45 minutes about it when I told him but they all have been supportive because we are a family. We are there for each other no matter what life throws at us. I knew at the end of the day, my friends were going to support me like my family four hours away.
Fast forward to September 30, I woke up to a phone call from Student Health Services on campus. They managed to wake me up from a dead sleep to tell me they needed me to come in for a follow-up appointment immediately that afternoon. No big deal I told myself, but of course, I had the thought process of going in thinking the results were going to confirm what the doctor had already told me.
The last class I had for the day ended at one, so I had made my appointment for 1:30. I text my mom telling her about the appointment and I was to call her immediately after. I did not have to wait and was taken back immediately while there were four other students waiting in line to meet with the doctor. He came into the room and the first thing he handed me was a packet of information about syphilis. He told me the results and stated how the lab ran the blood test three times, and each time, syphilis came back positive. I was completely numb. At this point, nothing phased me anymore because what was the worse that could happen?
He told me I had to be monitored over the next year by the Wisconsin Department of Health to make sure my serum levels were staying low and to make sure the medication was working. After giving me the information, he told me I had to go up to the ER immediately following the appointment to get a penicillin shot, which is the cure for syphilis.
I decided to follow the doctor’s instructions and went up to Southwest Hospital with one of my fraternity brothers. I was taken back right away and had to do a check-in with the nurse, who was going to administer the shots. At this point, I had become embarrassed. Why? Because the nurse, a complete stranger, knew I had syphilis and I do not like to tell strangers personal things, especially when I had recently found out about my results. But, I held my head high and was preparing myself for the shots. The nurse had told me they were going to be putting the shots into my bum…yes, I am calling my butt a bum since I do not wish to add any profanity that I would normally say.
“Pull down your pants and bend over,” the nurse said. Yes, I had to bend over a hospital bed and was told to stay perfectly still. Before she decided to stick me, I took a picture of grumpy face and sent it to my mom stating, “This is great. Bent over and my ass is bared all.” The only thing my mom sent back were laughing emoji’s because apparently it was too funny for her to call me.
Yes, I managed to take not one, but two shots. One into each cheek, and no lie, it hurt like a motherf***** and even yelled the F bomb. After getting my shots, I decided to treat myself with McDonalds and the next morning was bad news for me. What normally is a five-minute walk to campus became a ten-minute walk with how sore I had been.
Now, I called the Department of Health. I am now going to be monitored over the next year like the doctor had stated and have to get myself tested every three months to make sure I do not have anything again, since I can get syphilis again.
Over this next year, I am going to talk about my experiences of going through this process. My intent is not to gain sympathy, but to educate people even with humor thrown into the mix. I am NOT ashamed of this. I have decided to turn a negative into a positive and own it. I am not afraid to talk about this. Why? Because people need to be OK with discussing sexual health. Whenever you hear about people having an STD, everyone becomes immediately scared and shunned from society. This should not be happening. People should be embracing it since STDs can and will kill if they are not detected or properly treated right away. Life has its ups and downs, and this is one of my downs. I look at it as another little speed bump as I travel this road called life. I have everything to be thankful for. I am thankful for having access to treatment and the fact that this STD is curable. Although people will judge me and may never look at me the same, I do not care because I am letting people hear my voice. Maybe this will be the start to people actually bringing up the discussion of sexual health and the problems that they may be having.
Talk to you folks next week!
-IV
