Once Upon a Time, There Were Testicle Thieves
Honey, I had a headache. My apologies for last week, I was not feeling well, but we are back and with a little bit of hope. Vaccinations have started! Electors have voted! There is a light at the end of this miserable tunnel. I admit to tearing up a little bit as I watched the news of the first U.S. doses being packed and shipped. Despite all of the rhetoric we’ve been subjected to this year, science is amazing, and it will get us out of this with a competent administration to guide it. The things I am missing this holiday season—like going to Target and picking out wrapping paper, dashing out for Hanukkah candles because I always forget which night it starts, or my children waking up a house full of grumpy grandparents at 6 a.m. on Christmas morning—will be back by next year for sure. In the meantime, we all have to stay safe which means avoiding sex clubs and swingers conferences for a little while longer. And, of course, dodging would-be testicle thieves.
Now is Not the Time for Sex Clubs and Swingers Conferences
It’s understandable that people are a little confused about what activities are safe during this pandemic; in the absence of national leadership, the rules are all over the place. Restaurants and gyms are open and mall parking lots are crowded this shopping season, but schools are still closed in many places. Masks are required in some cities and states and scoffed at in others. We were told to stay home for Thanksgiving, but the White House is hosting indoor Christmas/Hanukkah parties with only slightly pared down guest lists.
Still, it would seem pretty obvious that now is not the time for sex clubs (like the one busted in NYC) or swingers conventions (like the one held in New Orleans a few weeks ago that has proven to be a superspreader event).
Sheriffs were called to a club in Queens a few weeks ago when they received complaints of loud music. Inside they found over 80 people and three couples having sex in a back room. The event was broken up because it violated the state’s gathering rules—there were too many people and too few masks. In an irony that escaped no one on social media, the police found numerous empty condom boxes on the floor. STD protection is great, but crowded rooms create more pressing priorities right now. One woman defended her attendance by saying she was not there for the sex: “I just wanted to dance and see and hear a DJ play music, that was it! There’s no other options. You can’t go anywhere.” Yes, Jennifer, you can’t go anywhere. Get over it. Stay home.
The organizers of Naughty N’awlins, an annual swingers event that usually draws 700 couples, postponed it twice before deciding to host a scaled down version (about 250 people) in November with some safeguards in place. Though the now-regretful event planner claims to have consulted with a top infectious disease specialist, the precautions were dubious at best. Masks had to be worn in public places, like elevators and bars, in accordance with local ordinances, but did not have to be worn in the rooftop pool or when sitting at a table eating or drinking. Somehow, they were also not required at Colette which appears to be an indoor sex club. And, the protocols did not discuss what to do if/when you took another couple back to your room (it is a swingers conference, after all).
Participants were asked (though not required) to provide recent Covid tests. Those who tested negative for the virus or positive for antibodies were given a purple wristband and other participants were told to consider them the safest people to interact with. What constituted a “recent” test wasn’t defined, and it is likely that some participants took the test and then got on a plane to New Orleans exposing themselves to new risks. Plus, we still don’t know to what extent antibodies are protective.
Bubbles can work. The NBA was relatively successful. The NFL less so (ask the Broncos about their game without any quarterbacks). But they require more time and money and careful planning than Naughty Events, Inc., had available. As of a couple of weeks ago, 41 participants have tested positive and there may be more who are positive but have not gotten tested. Moreover, each of these people may have infected those around them—a friend, a family member, or perhaps the Uber driver who took them to the airport. Remember the summer wedding in Maine that infected at least 53 people, some of whom weren’t even at the event?
Sex clubs were cool and will be again. Swingers events should be fine toward the end of 2021, perhaps. But right now, they’re just another gathering that puts whole communities at risk. In the meantime, Naughty Events is hosting virtual gatherings.
A Different Way to Get Birth Control Pills
Delivery is everything during this pandemic—Amazon has been a lifeline to many, local businesses have stayed afloat by dropping things on doorsteps, and there was a period of time when getting a grocery delivery slot felt a little like winning the lottery. So, why not get your birth control delivered too?
Pandia Health predates the pandemic, but its business model is perfect for the times we live in. If you have a prescription for the pill, patch, or ring, send it to them along with your insurance information and they will make sure your birth control arrives in your mailbox when you need it. Depending on your state’s rules and your insurer, you may get a year at once, a 90 day supply, or a month at a time, but the company will make sure your supply is up to date. And it’s free. That’s right, if you have a prescription and are able to take a generic birth control pill, you pay nothing (there is a fee for those who want to stick to a certain brand name).
Dr. Sophia Yen, the company’s co-founder & CEO, explained to me that the idea for the service emerged a number of years ago when two things changed around the same time. First, the Affordable Care Act was passed with a requirement that insurance plans cover contraceptive methods without a co-pay. (Despite many attempts to undermine this provision, this is still true for most people with insurance.) Then, the American College of Obstetrics and Gynecology issued an opinion stating that oral contraception should be available over the counter, meaning that a doctor’s visit was unnecessary. ACOG has since updated this opinion to include all hormonal contraceptive methods. Yen saw this as a real opportunity to expand contraceptive access around the country.
Pandia Health is different than some of the other telehealth pill providers because it does not require customers to use the company’s doctors. If you have a prescription already, you’re all set. If you don’t have a current prescription, that’s okay. The doctors at Pandia can write it. This service costs $20 for the year and does not require a visit or even a telemedicine appointment. Simply answer a medical questionnaire and provide your blood pressure and insurance and they will do the rest. And, the company is running a special right now for people who don’t have health insurance—the prescription costs $1 for the year and generic pills cost $15-$20 per pack depending on how many you buy at once. Pandia Health members can also choose the patch or the ring, which should be free with insurance but can be pricey for those with no coverage.
Easy access to birth control is just what we need right now. Plus, the company always sends a treat in their packages. Right now, it’s Hi-Chew, the fruity Japanese candy that comes in flavors like melon, peach, and lychee. Oh, and did I mention, it’s usually free?
Once Upon a Time, There Were Testicle Thieves
It sounds like a bad dream or an urban legend, but apparently in the 1920s it was not entirely unheard of to wake up from a drunken or drugged stupor only to find that someone had stolen your testicles. Randy Dotinga wrote a fascinating story about this for MedPage Today with a great punny title, “Gland Larceny: When Testicle Thefts Took Chicago by Storm.” I just had to share.
Rejuvenation was a buzz word in male health at the time and there was the now-absurd notion that if two testicles were good for masculinity, three or more would be better. This was pioneered by a urologist in Chicago who added a testicle to his own scrotum in 1914 and said he experienced “a marked exhilaration and buoyancy of spirits.” Interestingly, outside of additional “reflex erections,” he said it didn’t improve his sexual functioning. Of course, he only had about a week to test it out because on day eight it turned into "what apparently was a somewhat dangerous foreign body," and he was forced to remove at least some of it.
His failure, however, did not end the practice which the JAMA wrote about in 1922. Men were getting the extra testicles from monkeys, goats, cadavers, and younger men. In Chicago, some of those younger men were not willing donors. There were at least four cases of testicle theft that were investigated by the police though the wife of one of the victims theorized that he sold his balls for cash and made up the kidnapping as a cover story.
The article ends by pointing out that while (consensual) organ donation has come a long way, testicle transplants are still not common because of ethical questions about paternity. If the sperm produced in the recipient’s body still contains the genetic material of the testicle’s original owner, whose potential child would it be? Now there’s fodder for a feisty Jerry Springer episode, or perhaps, a future Sex on Wednesday. For now, read this article.