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Selwyn
R Cudjoe
Making
choices
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There are several side-effects from a prostatectomy.
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When a man opts to take out his prostate gland his major
concern is to get the cancer.
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If black men are to save their lives they must have a
physical check-up annually.
Oskie was cagey ever since our second conversation about
my operation. Last Thursday was not different. Looking at
me suspiciously like if ah kill ah priest, he started:
“You
say yo’ operation went well but you didn’t tell
me if there are any side effects.”
He ketch ma dey. In spite of our many conversations, Oskie
was not entirely satisfied with my choice of procedure.
He wanted more information from me.
“Well,”
I said, “there are several side-effects from a prostatectomy.
One may be unable to control one’s urine, they call
that incontinence; and one may be unable to get an erection,
they call that impotence.”
Oskie eye open up big. He could understand the peeing part;
he couldn’t understand the impotent part.
“You
want to tell me you went and take an operation that stop
you from holding yo’ pee and prevent you from getting
an erection? You must be mad.”
Immediately, I began to think: a black man and his precious
penis. Ah didn’t say a word. I merely affirmed: “When
a man opts to take out his prostate gland his major concern
is to get the cancer out of his body which could mean an
additional 20 or 30 years of life.”
Oskie was not convinced. He became thoughtful.
“Could
you think of any black man living for 20 or 30 years without
having sex?”
“Oscar,”
I asked, “how old are you?”
“Fifty-five.”
“How
many sexual partners you have had in your lifetime?”
“Dat
is none of your business.”
He shocked me dey. Oskie and I shared many intimate details
about our lives. We knew each other inside out. He did not
hide his dalliances from me so I knew the man. In fact,
Oskie’s friends knew his lady friends found him alluring.
“Alright,”
I said, “let me put it another way. If yo’ had
to make a choice between dying of cancer and not having
another erection in your life, which would you choose?”
“Dat
is a damn stupid question?”
“Yo
say ma question stupid. Here is another one: if you had
to choose between incontinence and impotency which would
you choose?”
He felt easier with this question.
“If
it come to dat, I prefer to be incontinent?”
“You
really think you want to walk around for the rest of your
life wearing a pad to prevent drips of urine that come unsuspectingly
when yo’ laughing or even when yo’ cough. That’s
how bad it gets.”
“Like
yo’ didn’t hear me. I prefer to be incontinent?”
“Why?”
“What
kind of chupid question yo’ asking?”
I kept on pressing: “Why?”
“You
really want to ask a black man to give up his virility while
he is alive?”
“What,”
I asked, “is so precious about a black man’s virility?”
“Dere
yo’ go again. Like you eh black or what?”
“What
you mean by that?”
It was his turn to ask questions:
“You
know what it mean ‘to put down a wo’k?’”
“I
know what it means to make love to a woman.”
“Dat
is not the same thing?”
“So
you telling me that ‘putting down a wo’k’
and ‘making love to a woman’ are two different
things.”
“They
are not!”
“And
what about ‘bussing a drawers,’ as the young men
say. Is that the same thing as making love?”
“Me
ah know where you come from but in this sweet land of La
Trinity, if yo’ ask any man to choose between peeing
plenty and the death of his precious instrument, I could
assure you that he go choose to keep his precious instrument
alive.”
“Even
if it means his ultimate demise?”
“Even
if it means his ultimate death,” he repeated.
I had known Oskie for a long time but it was hard to follow
his logic on this one. I know that brothers place a lot
of emphasis on the dexterity of this body part but I could
not understand why its tentative demise placed him in such
dire straights.
Life could be so rich if we saw sexual pleasure as one of
the many pleasures that life offers. It might be even useful
to see love-making as the fulfilment of a rich, sensuous
relationship with another human being rather than view it
as an instrument of justice (“ah’ go kill that
thing”); or as an implement of labour (such as, having
“a wo’k to put down”); or as an industrial
tool (as having “to buss a drawers”).
Oskie didn’t like the direction of the conversation.
I was convinced that if black men are to save their lives
they must have a physical check-up annually to determine
whether they have prostatitis (inflammation of the prostate
gland) or prostate cancer. These conditions kill our men
and eventually render our precious penis null and void.
“So
that is what you have to face for the next few years: incontinence
and impotency,” Oskie offered sympathetically.
“It’s
a possibility but it is a choice I made.”
“Or
was it a choice that was made for you?”
As he walked away, he left me thinking: “Did I really
make the correct choice?”
n Prof Cudjoe’s email address is
scudjoe@wellesley.edu
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