Hey You!!! Out of the gene pool!!!
Ok, so today was the day. After a bitch of a day yesterday, wife going blind (but getting better now), blah blah blah, I cancel my vasectomy appointment.
Suprise, Suprise!!! I get a call today. Seems they have a 3pm appointment open and how would you like to come down and have your "boys poked and snipped"? What the hell, it was my day off and there is nothing like the feeling of having needles jabbed into your scrotum, a blade poked through it (once numb- sure like that was going to happen) and then the Doc playing Indiana Jones searching for the "Ever Shrinking Baby Making Delivery Tube".
Picture this: Laying out on a table, private area scrubbed to a lovely shade of yellowish brown and a lovely blue pad covering everything but your sack. Next thing ya know- "Relax", it will just be a "little stick". Woof, I'm sorry but the needle size was comparable to the one that stuck Moby Dick (no pun intended). It was a harpoon. Doesn't matter how little the needle is, but once it makes contact with the scrotum, it becomes the size of a Pole Vaulters stick. And yea it hurt. Not a "cry like a school girl" kinda hurt, just the kind that reminds you that you are alive and a man. A man who has just been jabbed in the beanbag with a javelin.
Picture that twice. And that is just to prepare you for the actual pulling of the cord (or the hunting and fishing session I endured), the numerous clips that were attached (think roach clips and multiply by 8 or 10) and then the cutting and cauterizing. "Cauterizing you might ask"? I'll come back to that.
The Right Side only took 10-15 minutes. There was the requisite fishing for the cord, cause it was dropped. Think tightly stretched rubber band within a conduit. Fish out the conduit, it gets tighter, you drop it, it loosens. You drop it, you fish around until you find it. Then pull it out a tiny hole you had punctured in your sack, clip it numerous times, cut it twice (so you get one long piece that won't reattach of it is cut too short), the comes the cautery. That's the electrical piece of equipment that sends a little bit of electricity through the hand piece, to a wire that gets really really hot a burns the ends, that are remaining clipped, closed. Ahhhhh... The smell of burning nut flesh. Not like a burnt pecan pie, or over cooked brownies, but flesh. Burning flesh. Did I mention burning flesh? That was the Right Side.
The Left Side was just a bit shorter in time. Not that they didn't have to numb me up more, cause they did. Seems I could feel the cord being pulled out of the little whole and I could feel the rubber band stretching within my conduit. No Sir... Don't like it!!! No crying from the kid though. Took it like a man. Squeezing my fist till I wrapped my fingers around my hand twice, but dammit, like a man!!! More clips, More cuts, More burning flesh then as fast as you can say "Viola", the job is done. They pack some little (4x4- Manly Sized, of course) gauze pads into my Underdog Briefs (hey they were the only ones that didn't allow for saggage of the baggage), then they give me a couple of scripts for pain meds (Percocet and Valium) and I was off to Rite-Aid. Bastion of the soapless, shampooless and laundryless ones. It was close and I needed drugs!!!
That was a trip. I stumble out of my car and ramble over to the check in line like John Wayne with hemorrhoids. I go up to the tech and ask her if it was possible to get these filled quick,
cause I just had surgery. She looked at me with the compassion of a babboon with a fist full of lizards and said it would be 20 minutes, so "Why don't you just gimp over to the magazine racks and pretend you give a shit about what's happening to Lindsay LoDuffSpearsAnistonJolie"!!!
So, 20 minutes or so later, I waddle over and am told it will be another 10 or 15 minutes. Seems as though a couple of shopping basket cases came in just before me (these are the folks who walk up with a money clip around a couple of dozen prescriptions- each). I have no idea where they get the money for these because they must have Medi(Don't)Care cards.
So finally, after 2 and a half days in line (ok, so maybe it was only 10 more mintes) I get my pills. Immediately pay for them and my half drank Diet Pepsi, and then Ta-Dah!!! My packing material drops out like I've laid a Yellowish Brown gauze egg. I'd like to say I was embarrased, but NO!!! I was in pain and wanted to get to my car and poke 3 Perc's and 2 Valiums down my neck quicker than Anna Nicolle Smith with a 5th of Gin and a handfull of Dumbass Pills.
The drive home was much better. I had my baby making tubes in the car (have to show them babies off) and was ready for a long nap. Nope, didn't happen. Sure would like it to...
Oh, bottom line, I would recommend this to any guy who wants one.
Suprise, Suprise!!! I get a call today. Seems they have a 3pm appointment open and how would you like to come down and have your "boys poked and snipped"? What the hell, it was my day off and there is nothing like the feeling of having needles jabbed into your scrotum, a blade poked through it (once numb- sure like that was going to happen) and then the Doc playing Indiana Jones searching for the "Ever Shrinking Baby Making Delivery Tube".
Picture this: Laying out on a table, private area scrubbed to a lovely shade of yellowish brown and a lovely blue pad covering everything but your sack. Next thing ya know- "Relax", it will just be a "little stick". Woof, I'm sorry but the needle size was comparable to the one that stuck Moby Dick (no pun intended). It was a harpoon. Doesn't matter how little the needle is, but once it makes contact with the scrotum, it becomes the size of a Pole Vaulters stick. And yea it hurt. Not a "cry like a school girl" kinda hurt, just the kind that reminds you that you are alive and a man. A man who has just been jabbed in the beanbag with a javelin.
Picture that twice. And that is just to prepare you for the actual pulling of the cord (or the hunting and fishing session I endured), the numerous clips that were attached (think roach clips and multiply by 8 or 10) and then the cutting and cauterizing. "Cauterizing you might ask"? I'll come back to that.
The Right Side only took 10-15 minutes. There was the requisite fishing for the cord, cause it was dropped. Think tightly stretched rubber band within a conduit. Fish out the conduit, it gets tighter, you drop it, it loosens. You drop it, you fish around until you find it. Then pull it out a tiny hole you had punctured in your sack, clip it numerous times, cut it twice (so you get one long piece that won't reattach of it is cut too short), the comes the cautery. That's the electrical piece of equipment that sends a little bit of electricity through the hand piece, to a wire that gets really really hot a burns the ends, that are remaining clipped, closed. Ahhhhh... The smell of burning nut flesh. Not like a burnt pecan pie, or over cooked brownies, but flesh. Burning flesh. Did I mention burning flesh? That was the Right Side.
The Left Side was just a bit shorter in time. Not that they didn't have to numb me up more, cause they did. Seems I could feel the cord being pulled out of the little whole and I could feel the rubber band stretching within my conduit. No Sir... Don't like it!!! No crying from the kid though. Took it like a man. Squeezing my fist till I wrapped my fingers around my hand twice, but dammit, like a man!!! More clips, More cuts, More burning flesh then as fast as you can say "Viola", the job is done. They pack some little (4x4- Manly Sized, of course) gauze pads into my Underdog Briefs (hey they were the only ones that didn't allow for saggage of the baggage), then they give me a couple of scripts for pain meds (Percocet and Valium) and I was off to Rite-Aid. Bastion of the soapless, shampooless and laundryless ones. It was close and I needed drugs!!!
That was a trip. I stumble out of my car and ramble over to the check in line like John Wayne with hemorrhoids. I go up to the tech and ask her if it was possible to get these filled quick,
cause I just had surgery. She looked at me with the compassion of a babboon with a fist full of lizards and said it would be 20 minutes, so "Why don't you just gimp over to the magazine racks and pretend you give a shit about what's happening to Lindsay LoDuffSpearsAnistonJolie"!!!
So, 20 minutes or so later, I waddle over and am told it will be another 10 or 15 minutes. Seems as though a couple of shopping basket cases came in just before me (these are the folks who walk up with a money clip around a couple of dozen prescriptions- each). I have no idea where they get the money for these because they must have Medi(Don't)Care cards.
So finally, after 2 and a half days in line (ok, so maybe it was only 10 more mintes) I get my pills. Immediately pay for them and my half drank Diet Pepsi, and then Ta-Dah!!! My packing material drops out like I've laid a Yellowish Brown gauze egg. I'd like to say I was embarrased, but NO!!! I was in pain and wanted to get to my car and poke 3 Perc's and 2 Valiums down my neck quicker than Anna Nicolle Smith with a 5th of Gin and a handfull of Dumbass Pills.
The drive home was much better. I had my baby making tubes in the car (have to show them babies off) and was ready for a long nap. Nope, didn't happen. Sure would like it to...
Oh, bottom line, I would recommend this to any guy who wants one.
posted by Slab at
10:24 PM
1 Comments:
Your wife is a lucky lady. Oh, that's right. I *am* your wife! *HUGS*
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