Minutes to Memories

WARNING!!! Due to the graphic nature of the following post, all men are asked to read another blog to avoid wincing in pain. All women with a shred of decency about them are asked to read another blog, too, basically to keep you from laughing at all men. Likewise, children too young to read articles that use the word “testicle” should not read the entry today either.

Now, for the sadistic women still reading…

I’ve had this working theory on vasectomies up until today. I have heard lots of vasectomy veterans refer to them as “no big deal.” My theory is that these men are either (a) trying to fool the rest of us into having one since they had to do it, or (b) the type of guy who believes that they should act tough about anything that happens “down there” in spite of the truth.

Today, I feel my theory is pretty much confirmed.

Sure, on one level, it was “no big deal.” I mean, compared to brain replacement surgery, it wasn’t a big deal. Compared to torture that lasts for LONGER than twenty minutes, it was no big deal. I mean, Saddam Hussein may have said hanging wasn't such a big deal either.

But this was a big enough deal for me.

For starters, someone could have warned me that there was no anesthetic given before receiving a shot to a rather sensitive area of the body. That’s important information to know all by itself.

But the doctor was cool about it all, and this is a very important fact since I was all alone in a room with this man who was using sharp surgical equipment while I lay in a rather vulnerable position.

Plus, he was funny…

Proof #1: When I moaned at one point because of (fill in the blank using your imagination), he asked if I was alright. I replied, “Yes, it’s just the pressure.” He said, “Sort of like someone pulling on your testicle?” I said, “Yes,” to which he answered, “Well, I sort of am…”

Proof #2: Half-way through the procedure, he stopped, looked at me and said, “Well, you wanna do the other side, too, while we’re here?”

He could take this shtick on the road, but I suspect he makes more money and has more stories to tell doing things the way they are right now.

The immediate aftermath of the procedure wasn’t bad at all. My wife drove me home and fixed supper. About the time she finished cooking, the numbness started to wear off and the real recovery process began. I haven’t been moving very quickly for the past twenty-four hours now.

To all the sadistic women still reading this blog I’d like to say, “Honey, at least I followed through on my promise to do this a decade ago.”

And I’m sure glad this is a one time procedure.