Just hearing the words “broken penis” probably sends shivers up and down your spine. After all, guys go to great lengths to protect their dicks from ever having to experience such trauma, and, most of us, would have no idea how to react to a situation where we’d break our penis.
While this (very) unfortunate situation isn’t normal, broken penis’ happen — and, when they do, hearing the stories from the men who survived them are both entertaining and informative.
Since we think this kind of thing needs to be shared with the world, we found a story about a writer named Ross Asdourian, via Esquire, who broke his penis once — and was brave enough to detail the horrific experience with the world. As you might have expected, yes, a broken penis is every bit as painful sounding as you think, and Ross’ story only confirms that.
Here’s an excerpt from Ross Asdourian’s new book about the painful situation, Broken Bananah.
What happened?” Nikki said on all fours.
The only response I could muster up was the sound of air being sucked through my clenched teeth. I laid on my side at the foot of the bed. The street lights shined through the window just enough to see the damage. Like a beached whale, my soldier rested helplessly on the sheets.
“I think I broke my penis.” Those were the actual words I said in the most matter-of-fact way any man could. Looking back, the use of the word penis seemed rather proper for the situation. Looking down, the real situation continued to swell. If you take your pointer finger, point straight ahead, and then bend it a little to the left like a hook, that’s a loose idea of what my tim tam looked like. Crooked.
“Are you serious?”
“Very.” Panic set in on that word. I began to feel light headed. Instinct quickly combatted it.
“I’m calling 911,” I said in the most pragmatic way with the phone already dialing, “and I’m feeling light headed.” The disco stars were blinking in my vision as the internal sirens sounded in the distance. Nikki’s hand covered her mouth to stop the ‘Oh My God’ phrase from continually spewing.
Medics see unthinkable gore, and it can be unnerving how passive they are with it. It’s one thing for a friend to see something twisted and react with no regard. It’s another thing to watch a medical professional see an injury and gently mouth the word “fuck.” It was bad. I knew it was bad. I actually appreciated their honesty and it quickly validated their humanity.
“I know bro, I know.” Bros around other bros have a multiplier effect. While I’m truly not a bro, I adapt quickly to the personalities around me. It’s a survival tactic to fit in when you want people to like you. It’s also a sign that I grew up in the theatre.
“Do you think I should take a taxi to the hospital?”
Joe the medic looked at me and fielded my financial concern.
“Look bro,” he started, unwavering from our bro status, “it’s ultimately your choice.” I calculated costs in my head while he explained the most obvious answer ever.
“If it were your toe, I’d say maybe. But this ain’t your toe.” His grammar were wrong, but he was right. Verified by its swelling size, it was not my toe. The driver made a phone call and relayed that we were going to pass the closest hospital for a better one, Weill Cornell Medical Center. This decision, unbeknownst to me at the time, saved my strife. The sirens briefly sounded off as we sped towards the Upper East Side.
As we reference above, the rest of Ross Asdourian’s story is told in his new book, Broken Bananah, which can be found on Amazon. It’s one that you should add to your “must read” book list, because it brings plenty of emotions — humor, pain and sympathy, among others.
While Ross detailed the entire experience in his book, Esquire asked him to expand a bit on his broken penis, with part of the interview below.
The break, it turns out, is not the worst part of breaking your penis.
“Getting erections with a catheter is really, excruciatingly painful.”
Actually, it’s not even the second-worst part of the experience.
Instead: “When I had my catheter put in the second time…that was like a flamethrower being shot into my body.”
It does change your views on sex, sort of.
“I would say I appreciate sex more,” he explains of how he approaches it now, years removed from the situation. “It was three months before I could have sex, and I had another year and a half of discomfort before I was truly not aware of it [during sex].”
He’s collecting more stories—thankfully, not his own.
“I am now the beacon of hope for people who have had sex incidents,” he says. “I have gotten so many random messages, and even outreach from friends of mine. I had a friend call me at two [o’clock] in the morning when he had a scare…”
To see the full interview, head on over to Esquire. And, for all you guys out there, be careful with your unit, because a broken penis is clearly something that no man should have to suffer through.