Vasectomy – done

In my last post I wrote about the Djibouti proverb which gauges a mans richness by the amount of children he’d fathered. I’ve fathered 4 now which by today’s standards (in this part of the world at least) is plenty. I don’t want any more yet don’t want to worry about having more. The usual reasoning for considering a vasectomy I guess.

My thought process was along these lines…

Ooh no, I don’t want to go through that, I’m not having anyone fiddling about down there with knives and clamps and bolt cutters and what not.

Ooh no, I’ve seen the way dogs loose their snap when they get spayed.

Ooh no, I’ll stop being a real man.

Ooh no, oh but… I’ll look into it. [Furtive reading, asking friends who’d had it] turns out, all of my previous preconceptions were wrong. The treatment I went for doesn’t even involve a scalpel.

I’ll think about it…. No! … Maybe.. Ok then.

The modern way to do this is speak to doctor. Book in. Cool off period (still sure?) Go to day surgery for a half hour appointment – bed rest for a couple of days.

The anaesthetic has worn off now Things down there are, er, uncomfortable but bearable.

The procedure

A chat with Dr Wild (name, not method, I was relieved to deduce) revealed that I was his 1448th vasectomy. He’s a bit of a vasectomy geek by the sound of things. He was telling me about a vasectomy conference he’d just attended though (rock and roll) where a Canadian practitioner had done over 20,000. I’m wondering what the world record is – it can’t be much more than that. Can it?

So after I’d set my mind at ease (steady hand? Check. Lack of weird sadistic glint in the eye? Check. Experienced? Check) he led me through to the treatment room where I was introduced to the nurse who would be helping Dr Wild, and told to undress. I was embarrassed about the fact I had a hole in my sock and that they’d see it, but this was soon over arched by not having any clothes on from the waist down in front of two almost complete strangers.

Iodine – lashings of the stuff was brushed on my parts. Doctor was keeping me busy with questions about my job. He spared me the “You may feel a little prick” joke when he administered the first injection. I felt that, but it wasn’t too bad. There was then a period of rummaging for 5 minutes whilst I stared at a black feather, snagged on the underside of a coat hook that was on the wall above my head. Most odd, I’m not sure of the symbology of that. Whilst I tried to relax (tricky) and act normally (tricky at the best of times) bracing for impact, Doc said “there, 50% done”. More rummaging and a slight tugging sensation. Some actual snipping noises and the whirr of a machine which I later learned takes the noxious smoke as they heat ‘sealed’ my plumbing. I felt a tad of borderline pain at one point- not much – just a bit of a shock, to which doctor took instant note and administered more local. More rummaging, then the words I’d been waiting for “there, all done”.

15 minutes Max and I was done. The procedure is ‘scalpel less vasectomy’ which served to highlight that there must be an alternative involving scalpels, which doesn’t sit well with me, given the region. Cunning service branding. “Oh no, I want the scalpel version please” probably does get said that often.

I’ve been advised to take bed rest which is a treat. Eirene is doing everything (no change there then) and I’ve had cups of tea and even fish fingers and chips in bed. Nice. Co-Codamol is helping but there is an ache ‘there’. Not so bad if I’m still.

Earlier in the day, just before we went out for lunch (steak, chips, red wine, Cafe Rouge, very nice) I had a sudden panic that I should really check to see if there was anything specific I had to do apart from the bit about wearing tight fitting pants that I had remembered. I found a letter with my name on the top, scan read it and baulked. Nil by mouth from 8pm the night before. No water 1 hour before (there goes lunch, thought I – that sounds quite heavy thought I… Gulp).. Then I studies the sheet and realised it was from when my dog went in for her neck operation in January. Never did find the pre op sheet again but it doesn’t matter now, because I DONE with that and it wasn’t that bad at all.

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Blogger. Photogger. Walker. Talker. Experience designer based in Dubai. Co-founder of 4 kids.

2 Responses

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