The Procedure

Ladies, read with caution.





I'm having a vasectomy.

After having firmly planted my seed here on planet Earth, my wife and I have arrived at this decision together. We don't want any more kids and the operation for her would be much more involved and a whole lot more painful. And to be frank, my wife has been in constant pain for ten years, this is the right thing to do.

So I went to the appropriate doctor today, a urologist, for a consultation. I'm waiting for over an hour in the office, surrounded by a lot of men I'm guessing were not there for a vasectomy consultation because they were probably in their sixties or seventies. One more thing to look forward to about old age I guess.

Anyway, I'm finally brought back and a very helpful nurse type-office worker person sees me to a waiting room and instructs me to listen to this tape and the doctor will be in soon to discuss the 'procedure' with me. As I listen to this horrifyingly detailed audio message for what seems like an eternity, but was probably more like ten minutes, the gravity of the situation dawns on me. . .I'm about to end the reproductive stage of my life. Didn't I just get here? Don't get me wrong, I love kids, I especially love my kids and I don't want anymore. In fact I'm not even sure most days if I'm qualified to keep the ones I have. I know this is the right time and the right thing to do. But there was just something about the whole realization process that freaked me out.

The doctor walks in shortly after the tape ends, almost choreographed in timing. He sits down matter of factly and starts explaining the operation in detail. I won't go into the details here for the sake of anyone who is still actually reading this post. But I swear, as soon as he started talking about it, my man parts began to physically hurt. I understand this guy has probably done this hundreds of times. Or at least I hope he has. Oh no, did I forget to ask him that question? Who wants a rookie pinch hitting at a time like this? Maybe I should have this done in Colorado where there is no chance of an unfortunate and poorly timed earthquake??

But he talked so matter of factly about it. And the blood rushed out of my head when he mentioned where he was go to inject the anesthesia. As if that were not enough, as I'm trying to articulate the four gazillion questions I have for this man, he brings out this book! With pictures! He then goes into detail about what I need to do before I arrive the day of the 'procedure'. Gentlemen, let me tell you if you have not been through this, hope that you don't have to. If you have been through this already, I'd like to buy you a drink. On and on he went I asked him questions and he had good answers. He was a really nice guy and made me feel at ease. But he couldn't answer the one question I had.

Once this is all over, what am I really good for?

All the guys I know who have had this done tell me it is no big deal and they are most likely right. But deep down this is rather serious. I'm not a great athlete, I don't have any musical talents to speak of. I'll never be an accomplished artist, writer or scientist. Fathering children was the one thing I could cling to. Now that will be gone. I don't know, I'm sure I'm over analyzing this. But I liken it to a woman who realizes she can no longer bear children. It's significant. I'll get over it, really, and I truly am glad we are having it done. It's just one of those stage of life transitions that I never really thought about until I was sitting there absorbing the enormity of it all. Anyway, the big day is October 29. I think I'll buy myself something nice that day.

Peace and good health to all.