Orchidometer. It sounds like a tool the Ghostbusters use. In reality here is what an orchidometer looks like:
What are these specialty worry beads used for? I discovered the answer during the doctor's checkup of our oldest son.
First the doc pulls out a stethoscope, I'm familiar with that device, she listens to his heart. Thump thump. Next she pulls out a rubber mallet, still in the know there, she taps his knee and elbows. Whack, whack.
Then she jumps right in to it. "Can I check his testicles?"
"Uh, sure." I mean, she's a doctor right, that's one of the things they do. I've had the procedure done a few times; I'm an old pro at turn your head and cough. So we take off the little man's pants and she starts poking around at his assorted parts. Her gloved hands poke at his junk a little and then she prods his sack a couple of times.
She says, "Looks fine to me." Pants up, rubber gloves off, examination continues.
At the end of it, the doc, the wife and I take a seat at the table, the very small table. Why is it that everyone who works with children sits in those tiny chairs? I understand that it's a place for kids, but for the amount of money we pay in medical bills, buy a regular sized table, please.
There we are, the three of us hunched over this tiny tea-party table and the doctor is laying it out for us:
"This is normal. That is fine. This is normal. I'm a little concerned about this and that."
Then it happens. She pulls out the Orchidomter.
"This is how big your son's testicles are." She points to a round bead with number on it.
It takes a moment for this all to register. Various sized beads, each larger than the next with numbers on them. These aren't worry beads.
This is a ball measuring device. Immature smile creeps to my face.
"His testicles are this big, which is good." Push the giggle deep down.
"They could be this big." she displays a larger bead, cover the smile with my hand. I mean this is serious business.
"But if it were this big we might have a problem." she points to another bead which makes me question my own manhood.
"A lot of guys with this problem have enlarged testicles." Heh, she said testicle again.
"Medical stuff, medical stuff, testicle." She won't stop saying it. Showing us more, even larger beads. Stifle that chuckle.
"Serious medical stuff, more serious stuff, testicle." Damn it, I'm starting to laugh.
She shoots me a disapproving doctor look.
Uncomfortable laughter, "I'm sorry, I just, the beads, it's so..." I'm a twelve year old trapped in a thirty year old body.