So, he said, I spent all night with the ice pack stuck to the fellas. See how cold they are? Uh.. just remind me never to use that ice pack in our picnic cool box again, okay? So here we are. Counting down the final days before the first semen analysis since the embolization. And Mr. T seems prepared to pull out all the stops. Or at least, freeze his balls off.
And so, the ice packs await in the freezer. The scrotum prepares for a frosty reception. And a bemused wife who's not sure whether to laugh or to cry at the ridiculousness of it all, secretly hopes this will be the answer to her prayers. Nocturnal scrotal cooling. Who knew?
