Don't Read This
When the quickest path to comfort and a return to normalcy is an ice pack applied to the goo-nads, you can be pretty damn sure your life has veered off in a direction most dare not to tread...
As age and gravity take their toll, the ability to keep all your nether bits in order via quality undergarments can't be overstated.
In today's debacle, some worn elastic, age-strained fabric and a high step into the truck cab allowed the escape of the Balzac for looser pastures.
Of course, the resulting shift behind the steering wheel and re-compression of the trouser fabric led to a ligature-like effect on the "drawstring" area of the pouch, which started out as annoying, but at the end of the commute was akin to Satan's fiery fingers cupping your 'nads.
Apparently at my age, friction + heat = swelling, making the walk into the house more of a duckwaddle. A line of discarded clothing could be traced from the back door to the closest bathroom, whereupon a shower hose set on "Arctic" was inverted and used to good effect on the undercarriage.
A surprising degree of restraint was shown in not using the kitchen sink sprayer...
So, now the subject is horizontal, with a towel-wrapped gel icepack near to hand. Things are returning to normal, and there's some shopping for skivvies to be done.