Awkward Auntie Question No. 3

sex with one testicle

Ever had a question about relationships or sex that you just can’t ask your oncology care provider?  Ever felt too shy to ask a nurse or doctor a question but really need the answer?  Now you can ask those questions and get answers from Dr. Anne Katz, the Awkward Auntie!

Q: Can a person still have sex after an orchiectomy?

Awkward Auntie: The short answer to this is “yes!”. A testicle (ball, nut – whatever you call it) is not essential for sex. Losing one testicle will not affect anything related to sexual functioning but some guys may experience changes to their body image if they are not given a prosthesis (artificial testicle placed into the scrotum). This is usually done at the time of the removal of the original testicle.

You can learn more about this great program, find the answers to past questions, and submit a question of your own by going here!

More about the Awkward Auntie program:

Dr. Anne Katz, also known as the Awkward Auntie, is a certified sexuality counselor and nurse who has written a couple of books about young adults and cancer* – and all the things that happen to your body, relationships, and sex during and after treatment.  She will be answering any and all questions that you send to AwkwardAuntie@lacunaloft.org or that you submit in the form below. You don’t have to give your name or other identifying information – but it might be helpful for her to know how you identify yourself by gender, your age and what kind of cancer and treatment you had.

YOU CAN ASK HER ANYTHING…. Don’t hold back!  Your questions will be answered periodically and posted on our Awkward Auntie page.

Awkward Auntie Question No. 2

dating after young adult cancer

Ever had a question about relationships or sex that you just can’t ask your oncology care provider?  Ever felt too shy to ask a nurse or doctor a question but really need the answer?  Now you can ask those questions and get answers from Dr. Anne Katz, the Awkward Auntie!

Q: I had acute lymphocytic leukemia as a toddler. I’m now 23 and healthy. I have a little scar on my chest from a surgery. I get questions about it when I’m at the pool or with a new partner. How could I best answer/deflect questions without making things awkward or ruining the mood? I don’t remember much of my treatment since I was so young, it’s always uncomfortable for me to explain. I usually say “I had surgery when I was little…” or “I had cancer when I was really little, but I don’t remember it” etc. (23 year old man.  ALL)

Awkward Auntie: Thanks for this great question. It sounds like you have dealt with this in a really good way. Just stating the facts without going into a whole long story is the best way to deal with questions like these. If the other person wants more details they’ll ask for them or they’ll just move on to something more interesting to talk about. You don’t even have to say ‘cancer’ … just stating that you had surgery when you were little and you don’t remember it is truthful and probably all that others need to know.

One way to deal with discomfort is to make a joke about it. “Oh this little scar? Small Game of Thrones accident” might work if you’re a GOT fan. Or perhaps “Oh that’s where Cupid’s arrow pierced me the moment I saw you”….

Some people get a tattoo to cover up the scar – but you have to find a tattoo artist who knows how to work with scars.

You can learn more about this great program, find the answers to past questions, and submit a question of your own by going here!

More about the Awkward Auntie program:

Dr. Anne Katz, also known as the Awkward Auntie, is a certified sexuality counselor and nurse who has written a couple of books about young adults and cancer* – and all the things that happen to your body, relationships, and sex during and after treatment.  She will be answering any and all questions that you send to AwkwardAuntie@lacunaloft.org or that you submit in the form below. You don’t have to give your name or other identifying information – but it might be helpful for her to know how you identify yourself by gender, your age and what kind of cancer and treatment you had.

YOU CAN ASK HER ANYTHING…. Don’t hold back!  Your questions will be answered periodically and posted on our Awkward Auntie page.

Awkward Auntie Question No. 1

dating after aya cancer

Ever had a question about relationships or sex that you just can’t ask your oncology care provider?  Ever felt too shy to ask a nurse or doctor a question but really need the answer?  Now you can ask those questions and get answers from Dr. Anne Katz, the Awkward Auntie!

Q: I had cancer 3 years ago and look pretty ‘normal’. When should I tell a guy about my cancer? I’ve told only one guy who I really liked and after that, I never heard from him again. (23 year old woman. ALL)

Awkward Auntie: This is probably the most challenging question to answer because it all depends! There are risks to telling on the first date – the guy may bolt in shock or decide that this is too much to handle. Leave it to the third or fourth date and it may feel like you are hiding something. Maybe the second date, if there is a second date, is a good time to disclose. There’s more interest than a first date but you are not as invested as you might be on the third date or beyond.

You can learn more about this great program, find the answers to past questions, and submit a question of your own by going here!

More about the Awkward Auntie program:

Dr. Anne Katz, also known as the Awkward Auntie, is a certified sexuality counselor and nurse who has written a couple of books about young adults and cancer* – and all the things that happen to your body, relationships, and sex during and after treatment.  She will be answering any and all questions that you send to AwkwardAuntie@lacunaloft.org or that you submit in the form below. You don’t have to give your name or other identifying information – but it might be helpful for her to know how you identify yourself by gender, your age and what kind of cancer and treatment you had.

YOU CAN ASK HER ANYTHING…. Don’t hold back!  Your questions will be answered periodically and posted on our Awkward Auntie page.

Welcome to Awkward Auntie by Dr. Anne Katz

sex after cancer

Ever had a question about relationships or sex that you just can’t ask your oncology care provider?  Ever felt too shy to ask a nurse or doctor a question but really need the answer?  Now you can ask those questions and get answers!

Dr. Anne Katz, also known as the Awkward Auntie, is a certified sexuality counselor and nurse who has written a couple of books about young adults and cancer* – and all the things that happen to your body, relationships, and sex during and after treatment.  She will be answering any and all questions that you send to AwkwardAuntie@lacunaloft.org or that you submit in the form below. You don’t have to give your name or other identifying information – but it might be helpful for her to know how you identify yourself by gender, your age and what kind of cancer and treatment you had.

YOU CAN ASK HER ANYTHING…. Don’t hold back!  Your questions will be answered periodically and posted on our Awkward Auntie page.

Send your question to AwkwardAuntie@lacunaloft.org or submit them in the form below and watch this space for the answers.

*This Should Not Be Happening: Young Adults with Cancer

Let’s Talk About Sex

sex after young adult cancer

This post is brought to us by Jennifer!  If you missed her interview with Lacuna Loft, you can find it here!  You can find all of her posts here.

“Let’s talk about sex, baby. Let’s talk about you and me. Let’s talk about all the good things and the bad things that may be… let’s talk about sex.”

– Salt N Pepa, “Let’s Talk About Sex”

The speed at which your head spins upon getting a cancer diagnosis eventually stops. You right your course; you hold your head up and barrel through invasive tests, treatment and surgeries. You may lose body parts. You may go into ‘I don’t care just get it out of me’ mode. You may cry, break things, and climb under the covers for as long as you can withstand not having to eat or pee. It’s all normal and it’s all okay. There is no right or wrong way to deal with cancer. There will be a time when you catch a glimpse of your pre-cancer life after the haze of treatment. Maybe you’ll go shopping or out to lunch. Perhaps you’ll make time for a quick mani-pedi with a friend or enjoy the solitude of sipping a cup of coffee alone in a café. In pieces, it comes back; a subtle reminder of the complete person you were pre-cancer. But in the trenches of treatment we may forget, in addition to human beings, we are intimate sexual beings as well. That is typically the last piece of the puzzle to fit into place.

The words sexuality and cancer, when used together, are an oxymoron. How can you possibly feel desirable, or attractive when you’ve been chopped up and put back together? As a breast cancer survivor I frequently refer to my Franken-boobs, for they are unlike any other body part I was familiar with. They feel numb, alien, foreign and far from sexy, trust me, they are just for looks. Add to the extensive surgical recovery the indignities of chemotherapy: nausea, mouth sores (and sores in other areas where you have mucous membranes … wink, wink) and both diarrhea and constipation. If you need radiation you may have to deal with extreme fatigue and often painful burns and blisters. Good times? No. Sexy times? Not even close. But one thing I realized during my first visit to Cancertown is that intimacy is even more important than sexuality. If you are as lucky as I am to have a kind and extraordinarily patient partner, you realize that way, way, way before the physical must come the emotional. Being intimate with someone is so much more than a bump and grind between the sheets.

When I was in active treatment my husband and I set up a routine, which, unbeknownst to us, built intimacy. While I was on disability the first thing we would do in the morning was go for a long walk at a local park. Sometimes holding hands sometimes not. There were times I wanted to be touched and times I needed to be self –contained, he respected that boundary. We would frequently grab a coffee and a bagel on the way to treatment (I found heavy starchy carbs to be great at keeping the nausea at bay). After treatment, if I felt well enough, we would go for a light lunch. We would sit across from each other in a booth, sometimes talking, sometimes reading the newspaper, sometimes doing the mundane like paying bills or making the week’s shopping list but we sat there, together. That’s intimacy. Once the hard-core chemo was done, and my appetite back to normal I still had to contend with my monthly Herceptin infusions. I would schedule them for late morning so that we could have our Herceptin lunch dates, afterwards. We were side by side, together. It wasn’t a turn-on but it was intensely comforting. I set the pace and the boundaries and he respected that allowing intimacy to grow.

As my hair began sprouting and I lost that deathly pallor that cancer embedded into my skin I began feeling pretty good about myself. I could totally rock the buzz cut and cancer gave me a bit of swagger. I was a badass and I sure as hell worked it. My husband’s desire for me was always there … I just had to be ready to accept it. We started slow; there were many nights of simply snuggling, holding each other and talking. When I finally felt ready I asked my nurses for any tips and or tricks because my body, I could tell, was so different than it had once been. Their advice? “Oh sure honey, just use lube and protection.” Ummm, okay.

Armed with a vat of KY and a box of condoms I decided to tentatively step back in the sexytime ring, but within seconds my lady parts were screaming ABORT, ABORT, ABORT. See, my nurses never told me that using KY would be akin to sitting upon hot coals. So no. No sexytime for us that night.

When we were over the trauma of the fire crotch we tried again, but this time with coconut oil, which is truly the bomb-diggity! Was it great? No. Was it better than I expected? Yes. I felt a part of myself come back to life. We took time to build up the intimacy, which eventually bridged the gap, to desire, which then led to the good stuff. I got my groove back. We got our groove back. Then I found out I had cancer again.

This time my damn hormones were the driver, which meant after the bilateral mastectomy, after the DIEP flap reconstruction, after the drains, after the chemo and after the hair loss I was scheduled for a full hysterectomy. I was quickly being stripped of any and all femininity. Being put into chemical menopause twice before I even hit age 45 and then having all my lady parts removed was a real hit to my libido. All I could envision was myself quickly aging into a hairy, sexless troll. Sure I knew we had the tools from the first visit to Cancertown but could we do it again? Would I ever feel like an intimate sexual being again?

The short answer to that is yes. Like a camel that can go weeks without water while trudging through the hot dry sandy desert we, as sexual intimate human beings, can go quite a while without sexytime. The key is to build intimacy. Intimacy comes in many forms but at its root it’s about being together, communicating and understanding the boundaries and limits a loved one with cancer may be dealing with. It’s not easy and there is no set timeframe. Listen to your body and to each other. Remember, your partner may be terrified of hurting your newly scarred and reconstructed body as well. Talk through your fears and your feelings. Explain your needs and the ways your body has changed. Be honest and embrace each little pre-cancer piece that returns after the long dry spell.

Welcome Natalie!

Lacuna Loft is excited to continue introducing more young adult voices! These great folks represent a variety of perspectives on the myriad of topics covered here at Lacuna Loft. Before everyone starts really getting into the nitty-gritty of all they have to say, we wanted to introduce them a bit. Without further ado, here is Natalie!

Natalie is a sexuality educator and mentor with a Masters in Psychology, sex toy peddler, speaker, blogger, and event organizer in South Florida. She offers empowering education for women through her wide variety of transformational, inspirational, and practical teachings. She has over 12 years of experience working one on one and in group settings, educating women on intimacy and sexual health.

Natalie is also the founder of an online program Reconnect, Restore, Reclaim; a Holistic Approach to Intimacy After Cancer. She can be seen in ihadcancer.com. beatcancer.org, noumagazine.org, and more. She has also appeared on multiple podcasts, blogtalks, and video interviews.  You can check out her website, here.

Let’s Talk About Sex Baby!

sex during cancer

Geraldine is a lovely lady. In her 60’s. Well spoken. Wise. She’s one of the Breast Care Nurses who’s called me in for a little chat and a check up.

“Now I need to ask you Lara. Do you have a partner?”

“No. (Dramatic pause) I have a Lover.”

I said this purely in the hope of shocking Geraldine and to make her gasp or at least squirm in her chair. Course I don’t have a bloody lover! Well I sort of do – but I don’t think once a month counts. Right?

Geraldine doesn’t bat an eyelid. Doesn’t even flinch a millimetre.

Damn it.

Geraldine 1. Lara 0.

“You need to have regular intercourse throughout chemotherapy to keep everything in working order and the juices flowing so to speak. I recommend you get a vibrator.”

I think I’m gonna vom. Now I’m the one squirming in my chair.

Geraldine 2. Lara 0.

I can’t think of anything more revolting. A cold, clammy, glittery dildo that stinks of rubber and has a tiny pink rabbit having an epileptic fit attached to the side. How thoroughly sexy. I rather use it to stir my custard thanks. But if you insist Geraldine. I mean so far the NHS have come up trumps. A free wig. A complementary silk Hermes scarf designed by Stella McCartney. So why not give out free quivering wangers to all cancer patients? Or even better, free sessions with hunky men who are trained sexual ‘therapists.’ Oh and on top of that, throw in a couple of Merkins, seeing as chemo makes ALL of the hair on your body fall out if you know what I mean. Thank you please.

After my heart to heart with Geraldine I text my ‘Lover.’

‘I’ve just been to see my nurse and she says I need to have LOADS of sex during chemo to keep everything in working order. THIS IS A MATTER OF LIFE AND DEATH! You would be saving my life x’

No pressure or anything.

A few minutes later I get a reply.

‘Happy to oblige! x’

Being a cancer patient sometimes does have it’s perks.

This post first appeared here.