Vasect & Me
Heading to the hospital for a vasectomy, in my mind, is a lot like what starting a diet must feel like. The next part is going to suck, but it is going to be AWESOME using the end results. Just a brief highlight of the experience –
Two days prior my wife took me to go find some tight man panties to hold me in place afterwards. I haven’t worn anything. . . tight? . . . in probably 16 years. I do not understand how men wear these when they don’t have to. It feels like part of me is in time out wearing them.
When my mom and dad both asked about the surgery, they wanted to know how long it would take. When I told them maybe 20 minutes they were shocked. I explained that it was a scalpel-less procedure done while I was awake. They asked how the pain would be. I explained that they do a local anesthetic on the area. It took both parents, at separate times, exactly 30 seconds to make the ‘numb nuts’ joke. This apple didn’t fall far from the tree.
At the doctors office they take you into a room. Tell you to strip naked from the waist down, sit on a table and put a napkin on your nether region. 2 minutes later the doctor comes in ready to go. And yes, my wife is sitting there at the bottom of the table trying not to laugh.
The doctor starts prepping and washing the area. He asks me if this is the first time, while washing me, I have ever had this area washed and not paid for it. From there on it was joke after joke. I highly recommend a funny doctor.
The nurse who was assisting him was standing at the foot of the table. Every time I would twitch or move or flex my legs from the pain, I would squeeze her or nudge her. She was standing in between my legs. I almost cramped up trying not to touch her with my feet. That was awkward, having a nurse in between my naked thighs I was trying not to kick.
The only time I got really nervous was when after another sack joke from the doctor I looked down and saw smoke coming up, immediately followed by the smell of burning. He just laughed and went back to cutting and clamping. I was going to make a fire crotch joke to fit in, but I noticed the doctor with the blow torch was a ginger so I opted not to. That’s when the nurse and Charity and the doctor all started in on the it’s not as bad as child birth jokes. That part sucked and was equally painful to listen to.
You walk out of the hospital on your own accord. I was really looking forward to a wheelchair ride. When we made it to the front of the hospital, I gave up walking. I was doing the Ozzy Osbourne shuffle. I had gauze on the special area and I was trying to hold an ice pack on it as well while walking. While waiting for Charity to bring the car around an old lady was getting into her car that her husband was pulling around. I smiled and nodded at them and she gave me the dirtiest look. As she was pulling away staring at me in disgust I realized that I was grabbing my crotch and smiling at an old lady. I was laughing too hard to feel bad.
We swung by my parents house to get the kids and the first thing my mom does is make fun of me by doing an impersonation of me shuffling around holding my ice pack on my who-who. By now it is starting to hurt down there when I laugh. She also sent us home with dinner with what Charity and I rightfully named the ‘Potatasticle”. I don’t know if this was on purpose or not. But judging by the text message I received this morning – “Are you in pain? Is it too late to call you numb —- still? Haha!” – I think it might have been on purpose.
But on the bright side Charity stocked up on movies and coke and candy in the bedroom she cleaned immaculately for me to recoup in. I would say all in all not that bad and worth it.