Read "Tales from a prostate biopsy".
There is no delicate way to describe what is about to happen to me. Wearing only two thin hospital gowns and lying in a modified fetal position in a cramped room in downtown Seattle, I’m waiting for a doctor to grease up an ultrasound probe and stick it where the sun don’t shine. But wait, it gets better: One at a time, a dozen needles will be inserted alongside the probe and through the wall of my rectum to snatch bits of tissue from my troublesome man gland.That pretty much describes the procedure. In fact, it describes it exactly.
But for me, “doesn’t hurt much” and “not so bad” are stunning failures at describing the awful cocktail of fear, anxiety and misery in which I find myself drowning on the day of my procedure.Fear, anxiety and misery....right on.
But let me say this....it really isn't that bad. There is zero pain involve other than the mental pain of "stick it where the sun don't shine". Lidocaine....not necessary and almost never covered by health insurance. The ultrasound probe about the diameter of a roll of nickels is pretty accurate but maybe a bit larger. No matter it seems very large. The actually biopsy....well there must be a script. The doctor does say "you're going to feel a little pinch" same as they do when they draw blood from a vein. The pinch really is a very little pinch. Then the spring loaded snapping sound....there goes an 18g piece of your "man gland". This is done 12 times and it's over. About 15-20 minutes tops. Next day....it's like nothing ever happened. It's all about fear of the unknown.