I had a friend recently ask me to blog about my vasectomy (after he read about the horror that is the Barium Enema). So here goes...

I HATE PEOPLE INVOLVED IN VASECTOMIES!!!

When I first went to the doctor to speak about getting a vasectomy, he strongly recommended against it. You see, I was 26 years old and he thought I was too young to make that decision. At the time I was married with 2 children and I DID NOT want any more! Just because he's catholic and believes that every sperm is sacred and he has 15 children, that doesn't mean we all want to be in that same boat. Don't get me wrong, I love my kids (most of the time). I just don't want any more. My doctor went as far as saying "What if one of your children dies?". My kids aren't fish! Getting a new one does not replace the one that is lost. So finally he agrees to set up an appointment with a specialist that will perform the butchery.

My first (and only) consultation with the doctor before the surgery was certainly not the most fun I've ever had. If I was turned on by old men with sandpaper hands, I might have needed a cigarette after the meeting. I figured that he would explain the procedure, give me some pamphlets and send me on my way... WRONGO! The doctor tells me upon entering his office to drop my pants and sit on the examination table.

Well... maybe I should've expected it, but I didn't. The doctor very nonchalantly, moves my penis out of the way and starts going to town. He was pulling on my tool bag like he was trying to start a stubborn lawnmower. It was like my sac was filled with McDonald's cheeseburgers and he was the Hamburgler. He stretched my nut sac out and squeezed it with his sandpaper-like hands (it felt like I was doing "Satin Nut-Sac"--for those of you who use Mary-Kay Satin Hands, imagine using the Satin Smoothie Hand Scrub -- used to be called buffing cream -- on your most sensitive areas... not good!) until he found the tubes that he planned on cutting. I really wasn't paying any attention to the doctor as he explained what the vasectomy procedure entailed as I was feeling a little like I was visiting with Karl Toft (Google him if you don't know who he is).

When the molestation finally ended, I went home with the pamphlets.

After a few weeks, I received the appointment date for the surgery. Oh Joy, Oh Bliss! I was having a vasectomy on my 27 birthday! HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MEEEE!!!!

When V-Day arrived, I went to the hospital with my wife and was greeted by the sight of about a dozen pale faced, terrified men waiting to be scarred for life. I guess they were going to set up an assembly line and put us through.

After filling out the paper-work, I stripped, put on the ever-so-fashionable Johnny Shirt, I took my place in line and waited... A while later, a nurse came over and offered me some valium, which I gratefully accepted. Shortly after taking the Valium, I began feeling really good. It was like floating on air. I was no longer nervous and the stress of V-Day seemed to fade into the clouds... That is, until they came to wheel me to the OR.

I have never wanted to run away as much as I did at that moment. I was wheeled into the operating room and saw 10 or 11 people (maybe it was a combination of my fear and the valium, but it seemed that there were 9 or 10 beautiful nurses and my buddy, Sandpaper-Hands), a huge light and lots of equipment.

Most people I know (at least since the now infamous Seinfeld episode) have heard of shrinkage. It is the process of the male genetalia shrinking to a small fraction of its normal size due to cold. What not everyone knows is... this can also happen due to nervousness. Now, on a normal day, I am no Ron Jeremy; So you can only imagine how I felt on that day. This turtle was so frightened that I almost turned female!

So the doctor starts, once again, pulling at my nuggets and the nurses gather around for the show. I have one rather hot nurse telling me how great I am doing. Yeah!!! I feel great! Once the doctor has finished stretching me like pizza dough, he coats me with cold iodine and pulls out the needles. For those of you who have never had a needle stuck in your coin purse, I don't recommend it. IT ISN'T FUN!!

Now I am laying there with my "manhood", as it were, exposed, coated in iodine, a room full of people clamouring around me, waiting for the freezing to take hold. When I dreamed of being in a room full of nurses with my pants down, this is damn sure not how I pictured it happening!

Next came the surgery... I don't know how most people feel about methods of figuring out whether or not the freezing has taken hold, but I am of the opinion that cutting and asking what side of the marble pouch is being cut as you do it is not the best of ways. What if it wasn't fully frozen?!? ... Luckily it was and the old man could complete the procedure. After what seemed like hours of pulling and tugging, the procedure was complete. I now had a date with a frozen bag of peas.

I spent the next couple of days moving as little as possible and hoping my huge, swollen walnuts would shrink back to their normal size. One thing that it seems no-one ever tells guys who get this procedure done is the difference in the way they hang afterward. It takes a while to get used to the boys hanging lower, but eventually you do. The main problem I had with the new feeling had to do with the detachment. I kept feeling like I no longer had a left or right. It felt as though they would switch places periodically (which of course they don't because they are still attached). They aren't just rolling around in the bag willy-nilly. When I finally started to feel like myself again (after about a month), I got to go through the not-at-all embarrassing sperm testing. There is nothing like jerking off in a cup and delivering it to the hospital. The hot nurse could have at least offered to help collect the sample.

You know, as traumatic as the experience was... every time I see someone with a screaming baby or a toddler who is getting into everything and acting up, I thank the Lord I got it done. Let me tell you, the few days of pain and month of awkwardness was certainly worth avoiding the years of pain that another child would bring!