Mention prostate cancer to a man and generally the first thought that comes into his head is his tackle. Not cancer or death but what is it going to do with his tackle. I get it, I really do. Overnight I had gone from, as the French would say, ‘Le Magnifique’ to the post surgery and depressing ‘Minuscule et idiot’. Or in keeping to our title theme I had gone from the majestic, powerful command centre they call Thunderbird One to a broken version of the silly, stubby aquatic little Thunderbird Four.
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