Before the operation I wasn’t planning to write this blog post. Better to keep what had happened secret I thought – save myself the embarrassment and ridicule. As I lay on my back watching clouds passing by outside the hospital window I tried to digest what the Doctor had told me that morning. I’d never heard of this condition before. How had it had happened to me? ‘Very rare for a man your age,’ he’d said. Well that day of cycling was no different from hundreds of others on the road. No twists, turns, falls or knocks. Were all those thousands of hours I’ve spent on a saddle building up to this? I’m still puzzled as to how it happened.
I was in Mozambique when the pain started. In fact I’d only entered the country the previous day on a 3-day transit visa from Malawi. I had 250km to cover in that time, so needed to make steady progress in order to reach the Zimbabwean border before facing an overstay fine. There was no need to push myself though. The ‘Tete corridor’, as the road is often dubbed, links Malawi with Zimbabwe and passes through a western branch of Mozambique. There were no big climbs and the road was pretty well paved.
The night before I’d memorably camped on the banks of the River Zambezi as it passes through the city of Tete. Lights lit up the city skyline and the enormous suspension bridge spanning the river. With the Cahora Bassa dam not far upstream, responsible for powering most of Mozambique and a number of other countries, it was no surprise that this was probably one of the most well-lit cities I’ve been in on the continent.
The next night was very different though. There had been a gradual climb out of the Zambezi valley earlier that day, passing small mud-hut villages selling bags of charcoal on the roadside, and the heat had been of an intensity I’m now familiar with. The rains I’d been cycling through in Malawi had now been replaced by blue skies, and once I’d seen the condition of the budget rooms available in the last Mozambican town before the border I decided I’d camp again.
Most nights in my tent in Africa are spent beside a village school, Church or within the compound of the village chief, but it was clear from my surroundings that on this night I would be wild camping. I filled my water bottles plus a 10-litre water bladder before leaving the last town on a gradual climb towards the border, recording this video as I went.
It was whilst showering under an acacia tree that I first felt the pain. It started with a stitch in my lower right abdomen, then moved to what I felt was my bladder. By this time I’d abandoned plans to cook pasta and lay down in my tent hoping the pain would subside. But it continued to intensify. Was it my appendix I wondered? But which side was my appendix? Maybe it was those two beers I’d taken mid-afternoon? I never drink alcohol in the middle of a cycling day, but I was leaving Mozambique and this was going to be one of the last opportunities to drink Manica, a far superior beer to the Carslberg I’d been drinking in Malawi. Perhaps that litre of beer in my system was causing the stitch and pain in my bladder?
I found my first-aid kit, swallowed 2 Paracetamol, then started drinking water in the belief that peeing was going to flush this pain and alcohol out of my system. It didn’t. I took another 2 Paracetamol and continued to drink, but the water just seemed to sit in my stomach, and before long I was vomiting it back up. Lying down was more painful than standing up, and I spent most of the night pacing around my tent in agony. The road was several hundred metres away, but what little traffic had been on it during the daytime had now almost ceased, apart from a very occasional truck. Of all the places I could have been this was one of the worst. There was no-one around and my cries of pain were lost in the surrounding bush. I took another 2 Paracetamol and finally managed to produce a trickle of urine before sleeping for perhaps an hour.
The intensity of pain had subsided a little when I started to pack up my tent early the next morning. The sun quickly rose and energetic flies buzzed irritatingly around my face as I went about repairing a puncture on my rear tyre before wheeling the bike onto the road. I cycled slowly. The border was only 30km away and I was there well before midday.
I had little appetite, but hadn’t eaten the night before nor taken any breakfast so used my remaining Mozambican metacais on a plate of chicken and rice. I only managed to finish half of it before lying down in the shade outside to wait for the worst of the midday heat to pass. What had been agony in my bladder during the night was now a dull pain.
Border crossing formalities passed without incident. Too many white faces had come this way before to make my presence be of any particular significance. A Zimbabwean official gave me a 30-day visa in exchange for $55, although there was some disbelief when I said I’d cycled from Malawi and was proceeding to Harare, about 240km away. “All that way, by bicycle?”
It was only later that night that I noticed the swelling. I’d pitched my tent on the veranda of a Primary School, then taken a shower under a nearby tree. My right testicle was hard, raised and swollen. No pain unless I moved or touched it, but this wasn’t normal. Surely it had something to do with that stitch and pain in my bladder?
Well I slept like a log that night, hoping the swelling would go down by the morning. It didn’t. I cycled on slowly, greeting school children with what little enthusiasm I had to be on the road, but the discomfort and pain was increasing.
It needs a really good reason for me to abandon ship, quit as it were and take motorised transport to reach my destination. Well by mid-morning I decided to throw the towel in; it was time to flag a lift to Harare.
I waited some 40 minutes under the shade of an acacia tree before a mini-bus with a trailer passed by. Sitting squeezed in the back amongst vociferous Zimbabweans was no more comfortable than being on the bike, and what would have been a 2 hour journey in a private vehicle took more like 4 hours with the never-ending police check-posts.
In downtown Harare I wheeled my bike around looking for a bank that would accept an international visa card. I had no map or information about the city. People seemed busy going places. I felt lost and had no idea where to stay that night. I had the contact number of a friend of a friend who lived somewhere in or on the outskirts of Harare, but that number was buried in an old facebook message. Why hadn’t I written it down? More than anything else I needed to see a Doctor, but I didn’t know who to ask.
In the end a travel agent directed, then decided to escort me to a nearby clinic. “I want to be a good Samaritan. We Africans have a duty to help.”
The Doctor was female and at first I wanted to ask if she had a male colleague before dropping my pants. “Don’t worry, I’ve seen everything here in Zimbabwe” she remarked puling on some surgical gloves.
She took the right testicle in her hand and looked up at me gravely. “This is serious and you need urgent medical assistance. This looks like testicular torsion”.
I’d never heard of testicular torsion before, and explained that the pain was never really in my testicle, but my lower abdomen. She put her fists together then twisted them as she explained how the testes, the right one in my case, had twisted upon itself and cut blood supply to the testicle.
The Congolese Urologist confirmed what the female GP had said, but was surprised that a man of 33 was experiencing torsion. “It’s usually young boys and teenagers who I see this with. Unless it’s Orchitis (an infection) this testicle is now dead”
Dead!? I exclaimed in shock. I later did what research I could with limited Internet access, and read what the Urologist had said. Unless operated upon within 6 hours from the onset of pain the testicle dies from lack of blood supply and soon goes gangrenous.
Coming to terms with the news that you are going to lose a testicle isn’t an easy thing for any man to deal with, particularly when you are alone in a hospital in a foreign country. I should have acted quicker, but there was no way I could have got to hospital within 6 hours.
I did a lot of crying in the hours before being taken to theatre. “Don’t worry. You can still have 20 children”, said the Urologist. “It’s a simple operation and I’ll fix the left testicle so it can never become twisted”. The nurse smiled at me. “God gave you two and you only need one to function.” But one testicle I thought to myself. Hitler had one testicle didn’t he? What was it going to look like? How was it going to feel? When could I ride my bike again? Was it going to affect getting an erection and performing? How was I going to tell people? Maybe I should keep it a secret? Girls would think I’m abnormal and have no sex drive. Why had this happened to me now and not when I first started cycle touring years ago? Was it even connected to the cycling? The Doctor had said this could suddenly happen. “A bump or pothole in the road is all it needs sometimes.”
A scan some hours before going under the knife confirmed that it was torsion and not orchitis and that the left testicle was still healthy. By this time I’d made contact with those friends of friends, who asked why the hell I hadn’t called them when I first arrived, and probably shuddered when I said I was in the government hospital.
I panicked when I came round from the anaesthetic. “Where is my bike and bags?” I asked the theatre nurse. They were in fact still with that travel agent. I expected to be in some pain as I looked down at a large bundle of bandaging around my scrotum, and the tube which was draining out from where I guessed there to be a number of stitches. It was that numb discomfort again though. The cocktail of antibiotics and painkillers I’d been on before the operation were no doubt at work.
I was discharged from hospital 2 days later, wheeled out on a wheelchair that used a white plastic garden chair as the seating component. How resourceful Africans can be I thought. “This hospital has changed a lot in the last few years”, remarked my hosts. “You wouldn’t want to have been here in the real crisis years”.
At first the Urologist had said no cycling for 3 months, but when I revisited his consultation room several days later and questioned him on this whilst the bandaging was removed he said at least 1 month, 2 would be better** (see below). I guessed he’d never operated on a guy who was cycling across the continent. Apart from 6 ugly looking stitches and a little bit of loose skin my manhood looks no different from before. The stitches will fall out within a week or two I’m told.
And so here I am recovering in one of Harare’s leafy suburbs, wondering when to get back on the bike, at least for a casual ride around the shady jacaranda lined streets?
Other than the fact that it makes for an interesting, if somewhat wincing read, I decided to blog about this experience for two reasons. Firstly I want to hear from readers, cyclists or non-cyclists, as to what they know or don’t know about testicular torsion and the recovery from such an operation. Were all those hours I’ve spent on the bicycle leading up to this happening? Perhaps it was the heat that day and the added load I was carrying for the last 10km? Did the beer in my system have an affect? Can I blame my brooks saddle even though I’ve done 30,000km on it now? I’m basically asking whether testicular torsion is an occupational hazard for cycle tourers?
In my mind I’d like to be heading out of Harare in about 1 month, but I clearly don’t want to end up again in a hospital bed in Zimbabwe, or somewhere else between here and Cape Town.
The second reason I decided to announce that I now only have one testicle is to pre-warn my cycling brethren, particularly those younger than me. I don’t think many people know what testicular torsion is, and I wonder how many guys have found themselves climbing a mountain, sailing an ocean or possibly wild camping after a day on the bicycle and thought to themselves, as I did, let me see how this pain feels tomorrow. Maybe it will go away. Well the next day is unfortunately too late in the case of testicular torsion. The moment you feel any kind of unusual pain or discomfort in any region of your lower abdomen or genital area don’t hesitate to get yourself, if you can, to the nearest hospital. When I think of all the places I’ve cycled and camped, unfortunately 6 hours would never have been long enough. But to ignore the pain and continue with the discomfort, which the Doctor said would also pass over time, is even more dangerous. That dead testicle will infect the other. Well if I’d lost both testicles I really don’t think I’d have easily found the balls to tell you this.
** I am as of now back on the road, cycling out of Harare some 32 days the operation date. I wrote this blog post about 1 week after the operation, but delayed posting it for reasons I’ll write about in a forthcoming post.
Comments
Hello Peter,
I am 33 and have had partial tortion 3-4 times a year for the last 15 years without knowing what it was. It twisted in the night and detisted, leaving me with unexplainable pain usualy lasted about 12 hours.
Two weeks ago, the pain did not go away and I ended up in the hospital with full testicular torsion. I have had surgery two days ago and I am currently uni-testicular. Your blog gives me have hope for the future…
I also do a lot of cycling and asked if it could be a cause. My urologist explained that t cannot be the bike: the testicule is usualy attached to the scrotum so it cannot turn. I have a congenital defect where the testicle is not attached and is thus free to turn on itself.
I hope it helps you feel free to bike as you may like!
Laurent
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Peter Reply:
July 21st, 2012 at 9:57 pm
Hi Laurent. Reading about your experience still makes me wince. That night camping in the bush was probably the most painful and scary of my life. At first I had assumed it was due to the cycling, as people around me at the time all thought this. It was only after the operation, when I cast my mind back to that night and had people respond to the blog post here, that I realised the torision came about from twisting when I was taking a cold shower. Incredibly unfortunate. Within a month after the operation I was feeling fit to continue my journey, and as for the imbalance and ability to fire on one engine, I can’t report any problem…. Just one question: Did they insert a prosthetic testicle having taken the dead one out?
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thank goodness you are alright. It’s been some time since you last posted and probably quite a few of us were a little worried.
As for the torsion and the operation, it all sounds as if it went pretty well in the end. I’m sure it will make no real difference to any aspect of your life, other than as a tale to tell. Thanks though for being candid enough to share the fears and the pain that went with being alone in the bush far from help. Nice to hear about the man who wanted to be the ‘good Samaritan’. Good luck for the onward journey.
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Thank you for telling this story, Peter. I know there’s a lot of us who’ve been following you for the past two and a half years and we were all worried when we didn’t see any posts. You bring loads of happiness to all your readers so thank you. And you’re really pretty bad ass the way you keep on biking no matter what happens. That video really makes you look bad ass. We all think your really cool, kind of like Indiana Jones or Rambo. Thank you for all your stories and pictures, hundreds of us get our jones through your blog!
Happy traveling,
Britt
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Hey!!’Rest assured, it makes absolutely no difference to a woman whether there is one or two. Or is that just me?
Caroline x
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Peter Reply:
March 20th, 2012 at 10:23 am
Thanks. Reassuring to know. Well there isn’t a huge visual difference, but showing my travelling scars might only be for a select few.
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Peter, nothing wrong with coming out! Cold showers, nuff said! Every journey has it’s twists and turns….ouch!
Great journey, great writing, great admiration.
Nigel
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Hi Pete,
Many, many thanks for sharing your story. No need to be embarrassed!
Wishing you all the best, cold beers when you want them, good places to sleep and good health for rest of your trip and beyond,
Judy
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I have heard of testicular torsion but was unaware that cycling could cause it.
Sorry to hear of your misfortune but glad you’re on the mend. It could have been worse!
Not sure of Hitler’s scrotal status…I have been to the Albert Hall but didn’t see any signs for ‘Hitler’s Testicle’
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Peter Reply:
March 19th, 2012 at 8:17 pm
In hindsight and on reflection I’m reversing what most people probably thought. I dont believe it was the cycling, but the cold bush shower I took soon after setting up camp which caused the twisting.
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Hello Peter
Good to hear that you are recovering and back in the saddle. Wish you all the best. Looking forward to follow you the last “mile” for Kapp Agulhas
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Heh Peter,
I’ve been engrossed by your story for some time and was somewhat concerned when you didn’t post for so long. Glad to hear that you are ok and recovering well, keep the blogs up, always a cracking read. Admire your honesty.
Iain
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Hello Peter, I hadn’t check your blog for over a month. Decided to check it today–after being conned out of a lot of money a few hours ago and remembered your post about the money changer. I was kicking myself for being so stupid. I called my sister in the states, she said, it happened because I am too nice, and there are worse things I could be. I felt that I really did not want to tell anyone about it because I felt so foolish. So, I wanted to re-read your entry about the money changer, because I remember how open you were with your feelings.
I’ve just finished reading this blog which really puts life in perspective. What happened to me is so inconsequential. I was so relieved to finish reading the entry to the relatively happy ending of the story; and the picture of the wheelchair! Also–do post how we (all your loyal followers) can contribute to your medical expenses–it is the least we can do given that we receive so much vicarious joy of biking through the dark continent pain-free. All the best to you.
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hi pete,
at last a new blog! was so waiting for it!!
so glad to learn that youre back on the road. you must have a great drive to keep getting back on the bike even after meeting with so many obstacles.
youre an inspiration
thumbs up!
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Hi Pete,
I am also a long time lurker who very much enjoys your journal. You certainly have been up against it recently. Was a bit worried by your silence. Hope you get well soon and are back on your bike. Have you had a chance to test whether your tackle is still working fine?
Best wishes,
Alex
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Peter Reply:
March 17th, 2012 at 7:42 pm
Fotunately all is in fuctioning order. I don’t write about everything on the website otherwise there would be nothing new for the book.
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Hi, I got testicular torsion for about ten years ago, never got it again after a operation. I didn’t bike to much then and I use a Brook B17 then I biking for the moment. So the saddle it’s still ok.
I hope everything get better, I know the pain :s
Take care!
Daniel
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Thanks for sharing this Peter. Having followed this blog for a while, I really wanted to know what had happened (although I realize that is selfish).
Good thing I’m not much for cold showers. I’ll probably keep that policy now.
Keep on keeping on. Your perseverance is incredible.
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There is a school of thought that the dangers of travel/cycling trips are overrated. See here
http://thatemilychappell.com/2011/12/isnt-it-dangerous/
and here
http://www.alastairhumphreys.com/2012/03/wimpish-excuses-travelling/
Have to say though, your adventure has not supported this. Had you stayed in the UK you wouldn’t have been attacked with a machete or ever been many hours from a hospital. So is travelling dangerous after all? Or is it just that we have to look at Africa separately? Or have you just had really bad luck? Probably some truth in all these questions I might guess.
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Peter Reply:
March 16th, 2012 at 11:18 pm
Yes there is some bad luck involved, but things could be far worse and no I dont that Africa should be looked at differently at all. Travel as I chose to do, brings with it a whole lot more risks than staying at home and reading about other peoples’ adventures, but then the rewards I get from it all are far higher.
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An honest and thought provoking account. Glad that you are doing better and back on the road. What a journey indeed. Life’s challenges make us more understanding of others and thankful for all the goodness in our lives. You have lots of supporters and are inspiring many, just make sure you get some down time with encouraging people. Take care and see you soon? Steak awaits….
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Seemed to be kept waiting ages for this, I must have checked the blog 20 times since the last one, but now we know why, or part of why.
A brave and unselfish decision to share the whole story, and one that suggests that we must be getting the whole story (or at least will by the time of the book). If you didn’t leave this out, you can’t be leaving anything out.
I might be being a bit cynical but could this be a good time to do a blog purely asking for malaria nets donations (sympathy vote)?
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Peter Reply:
March 16th, 2012 at 11:12 pm
Jamie, I felt it right to share it after getting over the shock and realising there wasn’t a whole lot different about me. I don’t intend to use this opportunity to ask for a sympathy plea for mosquito nets. The two aren’t really connected, but now that my insurance company are refusing to pay out the $2000 I had to pay for the op I’d be more inclined to ask my readers to chip in to help pay, but probably won’t.
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Jamie Reply:
March 19th, 2012 at 11:45 pm
@Peter, This part of the story interests me, more from the point of view of local healthcare than being nosy….Did you have to hand over the money before getting operated on, or did they do the op first, and bill you and trust you to pay?
If a local African had the same issue, would they have to pay $2000 or are they covered by any sort of national health care? What would happen to a local African who badly needed the op but freely admitted they had no prospect of ever being able to pay?
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Peter Reply:
March 20th, 2012 at 8:23 am
Interesting questions. Some of the costs had to be paid for upfront, such as the hospital admittance. The operation costs were paid some weeks later, but I think there was an element of trust between the meds here and the foreigner. I was staying with an expat who has been here 8 years. Had I just been passing through without any contact here they might have been more suspicious. Were it a local African I have my doubts as to whether they would have been billed the same amount. Some Zimbabweans have some form of medical cover. I was within a private ward of the government hospital. You might imagine what a normal ward here resembles.
A very brave and inspirational story for me, also cycling alone at the moment. Your blog and perseverance in the face of some of the events of your trip has been astounding.
When you live every day completely in tune with your body, something like this would be a huge challenge for me, but once again you’ve proved that your stronger than what the world can throw at you, bravo and onwards!!
Thank you for sharing, best of luck with the rest of your trip.
Nico
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Hi Peter, very glad to hear you are up and pedaling again; it takes balls to undertake such a journey and you have plenty.
Puns aside, its interesting to see that you struck a chord with the male readership and not surprising. Very good on you to share the dreadful and unexpected tale – had me gripping my parts for safety as I read…
Anyway, sounds like this was just luck of the draw but glad to hear you are in one piece, thought you might have met with a truck on a darkened road or some deranged wildlife, which could have been much worse.
Digging that wheelchair. Safe onward travels!
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Hi Pete,
Good to hear that you came through the operation ‘unscathed’ and are back on the bike for your last leg!!
Thank you for your Courage in writing to us about this delicate subject.
It is good to be able to have it out in the open and talk about the effects of saddles on our genitalia.
As a fellow long term cyclist it is always a worry: will i be able to have kids!? Luckily I haven’t yet had any numbness or fatal squeezing.
By the way, what problems do women cyclists encounter?
All the best and i hope you have those 20 kids!!!
Jo, that german cyclist from Gambia
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Hi,
Glad to hear from you, I’m sure many of your supporters were getting twitchy not having had any news for so long.
Keep on pedalling!
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I’ve read your adventures since “The Long Ride Home” and you inspired me to ride across and along the UK, and to buy a few nets too. They let me know about the distribution today http://www.againstmalaria.com/Distribution_TopLevel.aspx?ProposalID=184&DistributionID=604
So thank you and hope you have a full and safe recovery and a wonderful ride.
Terry
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Since my motorbike crash in 2004 where my nuts took the first impact on the tank I’ve had to wear cycling short when cycling.
Not for the padding but they keep my gear tucked up out the way so they dont get smashed around so much, otherwise they get irritated very easy :).
Good to read all the possitive feedback for Peter:)
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Great write up and hope you are now 100%.
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Best wishes for a speedy recovery Peter. Your mission to help protect others by providing mosquito nets is as compelling as the story of the lawnchair wheelchair from the hospital. See BYUtv and the documentary series Turning Point, episode Harmony Project and Wheelchair Mission. A most excellent and inspiring story.
Ride on with toughness and wisdom.
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There’s nothing to be embarrassed about.
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David Reply:
March 15th, 2012 at 6:38 am
Glad you’re ok.
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Peter, you are BRAVE! Brave for sharing this. Brave for having an operation done in an African hospital. Brave for everything! That photo of the wheelchair made me LOL though :) Thinking of you, and hoping you stay healthy for the rest of your trip!
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Hey Peter,
I’ve never posted a comment before, but I’ve been avidly following your progress since I came across your blog almost a year ago. I’ve never done cycle touring, but you’ve made me want to try it. I did a round-the-world trip taking buses and trains as much as possible (as opposed to flying), and I found that I wanted to go even slower, that I was still missing all the in-between stuff. The times when I did do a bit of cycling (just exploring my immediate surroundings on rented cycles… nothing like what you’re doing) were among the happiest of the trip. So since discovering your blog, the idea has taken hold to give cycle touring a try, perhaps starting with a short trip and seeing how that goes before undertaking something bigger.
Anyway, that’s one way your blog has inspired me, but I’m also continually struck by the quality of your writing and by your willingness to share the entire experience with your readers, including the hardships. And this entry especially made me feel that way. So I just wanted to say, as an anonymous reader until now, that of all the things I admire about this incredible adventure you’re on, one thing that really stands out is the way you invite others to share in the experience by putting yourself out there and telling the whole story. And of course that nothing you’ve faced has stopped you from getting back on the bike and continuing your journey.
Hope this finds you in good spirits and that it’s been great to get back on the open road. Thanks again for sharing your adventure.
Jon
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Peter Reply:
March 15th, 2012 at 8:34 pm
Hi. This is one of the most touching comments I’ve received. Thanks for writing, reading the blog and showing your support.
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I have been reading your blog. Just don´t blame yourself for what happen. I know what you talk about – gone through as tough things as you and I blamed myself as well in the beginning. You just followed your heart when biking – continue with following your heart, I will continue follow your blog. And good luck, I hope and think everything will be just fine for you!
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Hi Peter, I was a bit waiting for your new post, and here it came. I thought ‘oh no, he told me he did not have extended his health care, and now he’s in hospital!!’ Well, that’s not the most important, your health is, so I hope you are okay, doing well and not feeling itchy, sore or whatever down there while on the saddle. It really is not something to be ashamed about. Recover well, maybe some hours less on the bike, well… you know best for yourself. Take care.
Cindy
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scary story, Peter. Thanks for sharing though.
I’m glad you’re OK now.
Do you think your problem could have been related to the cycling?
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Peter Reply:
March 15th, 2012 at 8:39 pm
Looking back I feel it happened because I was taking a cold shower following a very hot day on the bike. Very much bad luck.
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Blimey Pete, their gonna have to make a film about you. Anybody else would have sacked it miles back up the road, but not you, you just keep going! I wonder if you realize how well you’re doing and how much you’re achieving. When you have these obstacles to overcome, when you’re tired and hungry, miles from anywhere and on your own in these foreign lands, I wonder where you get the strength to work things out and deal with the problems. This isn’t the first time you’ve had a very real need to visit a hospital. I hope this last leg down to Cape Town is pure pleasure for you and there’s someone waiting for you at the end with a very cold beer, and maybe a bag of frozen peas for your shorts!
Well done Pete, this really is the most extraordinary story.
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Hi Peter,
Glad we have heard from you at last. You have become part of our extended family during the past few years and I was getting concerned. I have a friend who was born with the condition you now have – didn’t worry me in the least! Good luck ith the rest of the trip.
Carolyn
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Hi, interesting but gruesome reading. Specially for a doctor like me. When reading you had pain in your groin/lower abdomen i thought it sounded like kidney stone. But thats the right age for you. Also pain that makes one pace around and untolerable.
As the doctors in Zimbabwe told you it mostly occurs in young boys and teenagers. Often appears in the middle of the night and accelerates quickly. There is not a classic tale of bikers getting testicular torsion, but its not uncommon to hear a story of some sort of trauma preceding the event. Noone, i think, can say it was or wasn’t caused by the many hours on the bicycle. Tempting as it is to draw the conclusion because of the anatomical closeness of the scrotum to the saddle.
And to blame it on beers is’nt a logical connection in my ears. The remaining testis will increase its hormonal production and your levels of testosterone will be as usual.
Copy-paste from a review article on PubMed: “The reported incidence of bicycling related urogenital symptoms varies considerably. The most common bicycling associated urogenital problems are nerve entrapment syndromes presenting as genitalia numbness, which is reported in 50-91% of the cyclists, followed by erectile dysfunction reported in 13-24%. Other less common symptoms include priapism, penile thrombosis, infertility, hematuria, torsion of spermatic cord, prostatitis, perineal nodular induration and elevated serum PSA, which are reported only sporadically.”
Not much help…
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Peter Reply:
March 15th, 2012 at 8:59 pm
Thanks for sharing this. Somehow reassuring to think that it’s not necessarily the saddle and the cycling that caused it.
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Hi Pete,
I first stumbled across your “Long Ride Home” when you were cycling through China, and have periodically checked in on your adventures ever since. I am, at the moment, about a year into my own humble cycle tour which is at least in some small part thanks to your personal inspiration. So thank you for what you have done, and continue to do…
I have looked at the Wiki link you provided and if I understand it correctly, some people (you?) are predisposed to testicular torsion just by virtue of the way your testes attach to your body. This, combined with the fact that you first experienced pain whilst having a shower, makes me think that it wasn’t caused by cycling. I think it even says that rapid changes in temperature (i.e. a cold shower when you’re really hot), can be the cause as the scrotum contracts?
In any case, for your own piece of mind you might like to try one of those Brooks saddle variations that has a gap in the middle to relieve pressure when you get the chance. The saddle I use is made by Selle SMP and whilst I get the occasional blister on my bum, there is never any pressure anywhere else.
For what it’s worth, I have only one functioning ball too. No torsion or anything, one just never developed properly. Without meaning to sound like Oprah Winfrey, I think this kind of thing is more common than you might imagine.
Try to take some comfort in the fact that the doctor stitched the other one up so that it won’t happen again.
Best of luck to you Pete, and I look forward to reading about your travels through the Americas some day.
Cheers,
Mark
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Hi Peter,
I’ve been reading your adventures for about one and a half years now, with pleasure, wonder and excitement. Allthough I never reacted before, I want to say it’s a good thing you wrote about it.
I wish you a good recovery and save roads…with some nice beers from time to time. Big up!!
greetz from Belgium
ciao ciao
Kurt
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Hi Peter, its great to read your blogs again. Wow, what an experience! I’m sure you are psycological better now for sharing this exprience with us all and that it surely is a warning to us men who end up doing crazy physical things. Take it easy as there is a lot of Africa still ahead to see before you reach the Cape. Maybe a plastic chair conversion for your saddle may do the trick!! You are a brave and lucky guy!
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Peter, thanks for letting us know what was going on. great you are back – good luck!
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Hey Pete,
Don’t sweat it too much, Lance Armstrong won the Tour de France seven times with one testicle! He’s also fathered five children. Controversies aside, that’s still a lot of biking/love making. Keep your spirits up- all of us following your blog know you have the tenacity and endurance to both finish your ride to Cape Town and recover physically and mentally from this “twist” in the road.
Marc
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Peter, that’s quite something you have had to deal with. My sympathies to you. I have often had a problem with ‘things’ becoming numb while cycling and have resorted to a saddle designed for women but which works well for blokes as well to keep ‘everything’ intact.
I had never heard of this before so thank you for the warning.
Good luck and looking forward to the next post from you.
PS That wheelchair was a classic.
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Good on you for getting back on your bike Peter. You’re a source of inspiration to so many people including myself.
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Hi Peter,
Long time reader first time commenter. Very generous of you to share the whole journey, including the wincing bits, there is great integrity in your writing.
Hope you do find some positive answers through this dialogue. Do let us know how we can contribute to medical costs if the insurance doesn’t come through (sounds like you could dedicate a whole post to insurance).
I’ve seen those wheelchairs in India too. The one I saw had a URL on the back to an org I forget the name of…
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Thanks for sharing this “twist in the road” with us Pete. It must have all felt very surreal at the time…and what a shock…blimey.
But well done for writing about it; it’s immensely useful for other cyclists like myself, particularly catching the symptoms early. I know you weren’t sure about posting it – but others who’ve had similar will take great comfort from your bravery in writing about it.
And you can still have 20 children…
Wishing you the very best with your continued recovery and ongoing cycle…but please do take it easy! And do enjoy the beers…it can’t have been, surely…
Ken
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Pete, no need to be embarrassed about such a blog- definitely worthwhile sharing so others are aware of torsion. I’m afraid I’ve no knowledge to share though, but it sounds like there could be just as much a possibility of getting it cycling 5 minutes to work as there is on a 5 year bike trip “a bump or pothole in the road is all it needs”. Bonne continuation mon frere, all the best.
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Thx for having the ball(s) to share your story peter, it is indeed food for thought and a warning for other cyclists.
Though I suspect there are few places in africa where you are within 6 hours of help.
Good luck with the recovery!!!
Shane
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