I Had An Itch In A Very Private Spot. Things Turned Tragic After I Asked My Doctor A Question.

At first, it was just an itch. Annoying. Persistent. Unrelenting. It was the kind of itch that keeps you awake at night, demanding to be scratched. I chalked it up to jock itch, grabbed an over-the-counter cream, and expected relief.

Instead, it got worse.

Weeks turned into months. The itch became a slow burn, then a raw, searing irritation spreading across my groin. The more I scratched, the worse it got — red, inflamed, impossible to ignore. Something was wrong.

I tried everything. Antifungal creams. Medicated soaps. Powders.

Nothing worked.

During my annual checkup, I hesitated before mentioning it, uneasy about discussing something so personal. My doctor took a quick, gloved look.

“It’s probably just a fungal infection,” she said. “Keep using the over-the-counter treatments.”

I wanted to believe her.

But as I was getting ready to leave, she hesitated.

“Do you mind if another doctor takes a look, just to be sure?”

Moments later, a second physician examined the irritated, red area that had taken over parts of my groin and scrotum. After a quick discussion, both doctors agreed it was probably nothing serious but suggested I see a dermatologist just in case.

I wasn’t worried. I had dealt with malignant melanoma over 30 years earlier and beaten it. I saw a dermatologist regularly, so this felt like just another routine check.

At my dermatologist appointment, the doctor wasn’t so sure it was jock itch. He prescribed new treatments and told me to follow up in a few weeks. I left feeling confident I’d finally kick this stubborn itch.

Weeks later, I was back, and the symptoms were worse. A small, pimple-like lesion that had appeared on my scrotum wouldn’t go away. My dermatologist reconsidered. Eczema? Contact dermatitis? A different fungal infection?I tried a new treatment for a month or more before switching to a different one. Each time, nothing changed.

As the months dragged on, it became clear something was seriously wrong. By then, over a year-and-a-half had passed. I had tried everything, and nothing worked. Finally, nine months into these fruitless dermatologist visits, I asked, “Would a biopsy help?”

It was a question that changed everything.

The punch biopsy was swift and sharp — a brief sting as a small piece of skin was taken for testing. After 1 1/2 years of uncertainty, I felt a flicker of hope — maybe this would finally bring the answers I needed.

A few days later, the dermatologist called. I could hear the hesitation in his voice.

“I’m sorry to tell you this, but the biopsy results came back positive for invasive Extramammary Paget’s disease (EMPD). It’s cancer.”