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Most. Memorable. Day. Ever.

If you were to ask most people what their most memorable event was, I'm sure many people would reflect and give answers like the birth of my first child, or getting married, or even the day I went to pass gas, but I got a little more than I bargained for.   Okay, maybe nobody would be saying the last one, but I'm sure they would be thinking it.

For me, the most memorable event is none of those things.   My most memorable event ever was getting my vasectomy.   Hands down.    As we will see later, it's not that it was a particularly fun event, but just a memorable one.

The day I got my vasectomy started out like most other days.   I woke up, showered, shaved, and...well, went potty.   Then I took another shower, because, well, you don't want people who are getting that close to your crotch to be checking out how thoroughly you wiped.    Although there are a million personal hygiene products out there, not a single one of them protects you from the heartbreak of dingleberries.   It's better just to shower after you go potty just to be on the safe side.

I showed up at the urologist's office right on time and was quickly shown to a room where I was told to put on a robe and sit on the table where the operation would be performed.    A young nurse with a very smart little mustache came in and told me that she would be helping me get ready for the procedure.

She asked me if I had shaved "down there."   I answered that I had, in fact, shaved down there.   Obviously skeptical, she had me lie back on the table and put my feet up in some stirrups.   At that point, I was thinking, "Man, it's good that I took that second shower!"   Pretty soon, her head popped up, and it was clear that she wasn't happy.

"I thought you said that you shaved," she said.

"I did," I replied.

"Well, it doesn't look like you did a very good job."  

"Ummm...it's not exactly like I could see down there.   You know, things kept getting in the way."  

"Hmmph," she said with a disgusted look on her face.   She grabbed a razor and a can of shaving cream, and disappeared back out of my vision.

Now at this point, I decided that I had better just keep my mouth shut.   If there's anything worse than a nurse with a mustache and a razor poking around your groin area, I would guess that it would be a nurse with a mustache, a razor, and a bad attitude poking around your groin area.   I could guess that one stupid comment out of me would result, not in a vasectomy, but in a full-fledged neutering.  Finally, she was done.

Next, it was time for the procedure.   Two doctors and four nurses came traipsing into the room and surrounded the bed.

Now, if you're not a man, you may not understand this, but a man's big fear is that Mr. Happy will suddenly wake up and start looking around at all the people.   This is especially true, if said people are going to be tossing Mr. Happy all over.    As it turns out, I needn't have worried, as my crotch has absolutely no stage presence.   It's amazing what a turn off it is to have six people checking you out.   It's like being mugged by a particularly thorough gang of muggers.    "What?!   No wallet?   How about under this testicle?   Damn...nothing!    You got off easy this time, buddy!"   Nothing about that whole incident says "sexy."

You know how doctors say things like "you're going to feel a little pinch" or "this might sting a bit?"   Well, obviously my doctor skipped class the day they covered bedside manner, because he leaned over next to me and said, "Okay, we're going to give you a local anesthetic.   It's a shot.   And, I'm not going to lie to you -- it's going to feel like you were kicked in the balls by a mule."   It was all I could do to keep from leaping up and saying, "What?!  Kicked in the balls by a mule?   Give me two, Doc!   Hurray, mule kicks all around!   Fortunately, we got the batch that wasn't working, so it felt only like I was kicked in the nuts by a small goat.   Yeah, call me Mr. Lucky.

Then it became time to perform the actual procedure.   Really, I can tell you nothing about it, since I couldn't see what was going on.   Remember, this is the same reason I'm not good at shaving my own testicles.     I just remember that at one point the doctor held up part of my vas deferens for me to see.   You know, just to show me that he was actually doing something down there and not just looking for any change that might have fallen out of my pockets.

I must have blacked out at that point, because the next thing I knew, the doctor was tapping my face.   "Hey...<pat, pat>...Hey, Mr. Hazel.   You can't go to sleep on us.  It increases the risk of the procedure.  If you go to sleep on us, we'll stop the procedure right now."    Now, my groggy mind knew that this would not be a good idea.   After all, if they stopped with only one side done, we wouldn't have equal flow across the sides, and every time I'd have sex, I'd be like a sprinkler...doomed to turn clockwise circles due to pressure on only one side.   That just wouldn't do, so I forced myself to return to consciousness.

Then, came the absolute bestest part of the procedure -- the electrocauterizer.   Have you ever touched an electric fence?   It's a lot like that -- except that it's on a part of your body that should never have electricity run through it.    I don't know what they were doing down there, but it certainly seemed like they should have yelled "CLEAR!" every time they used it.   "Doctor!   It's too late to save the vas deferens!   Let it go!"   "Damn you, nurse, I'm not giving up on this testicle.   Not this time!   CLEAR!   Bzzzzzt!"    Meanwhile, I learned that I can crawl a good foot an a half in about three seconds using only my butt cheeks.   A valuable skill if I'm ever mugged by a gang who are armed with electrocauterizers, let me tell you.

Finally -- blissfully -- they were done.   The doctors and nurses all filed out, and left me there as a sweaty, stitched, and apparently soldered man.   When I could muster up the strength, I ever-so-gingerly gathered up my clothes and limped out of the room.   Sore, smoking slightly, but semen-free.

Now, I'm always surprised about the misconceptions that people have about this procedure.   For example, a friend once asked my girlfriend if air came out when we had sex.   Now, I'll answer this directly -- no, air does not come out when we have sex.    I suppose it would be convenient if it did, because then I could find all sorts of uses for my groin.   For instance, I could rent it out for children's party as a balloon inflator.   Just turn me on, stick a balloon over the end, and VOILA, balloons for everyone!   Huzzah!   Fortunately, my girlfriend didn't miss a beat.   She turned to her friend and said, "Yeah, it does.   And it he has a narrow urethra too, so it sounds like a balloon with a slow leak.   We have sex, and I can tell when he's enjoying it because I hear all the sudden I hear Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee---eee----eee----eee----eee---eeeeeeeee!  See, that's what you get for asking stupid questions.

Although, it would be great if it did shoot out air.   Then I could fake orgasms too.   She'd roll over and say, "Did you?" and I'd give one of those sly but sexy looks back, "What do you think?"    And she wouldn't know what to think, because there would be no evidence.   Ha!   How does that feel, you silly women!  Take that!  BWAH-HA-HA-HA!

Oh, yes...We all have days that are burned forever into our minds, but the day I took the ol' nuts to the chop shop was the day for me.   They laughed, I cried, we smelled parts of me burning -- truly a memorable experience.

Posted by: Windhazel at 21:39 | link | comments (9) |
pointless, speeches

Comments:

#1  28 February 2007 - 04:51

 

Thank you for making me laugh so loudly before 7 a.m. that my husband asked me what's going on in there.

InMyLife

#2  28 February 2007 - 05:16

 

This was SO funny. A very memorable post. :)

athenawj

#3  28 February 2007 - 07:02

 

Oh my god...I laughed so hard and had so many tears in my eyes that I couldnt read the screen....and I almost. well...lets say that if they had electrocuted me "down there" it wouldnt have leaked! Very good work..and as has been said, a very memorable post!

JustMe63

#4  28 February 2007 - 15:25

 

Oh my God, I pissed myself!!

Damn, you're funny!

staynergirl

#5  28 February 2007 - 15:27

 

At least you got to do all this! SO MUCH FUN!

**Go directly home and rest; elevate your feet. Plan to stay off your feet as much as possible for a couple of days.

**Your physician will likely prescribe an analgesic (pain pill) to control the pain after the local anesthetic wears off.

**Apply an ice pack to the scrotum periodically during the first 24 hours after the procedure to ease swelling.

**Wear snug cotton briefs or an athletic supporter to help apply pressure against the procedure area and for support of the scrotum for the first week or two.

**Your semen will be collected (usually at home) and examined under a microscope at approximately four to six weeks and possibly later after surgery to assure that no sperm remain.

**Contact your doctor if you experience fever and chills, increasing pain, drainage (sign of infection), a growing mass (sign of internal bleeding or infection), or other concerns.

staynergirl

#6  28 February 2007 - 20:46

 

Yeah...I got to do that. Loads of fun.

Windhazel

#7  01 March 2007 - 09:21

 

oh my god! Who knew?!?! lol Brave brave man.

Ladyinthemoon

#8  04 March 2007 - 04:40

 

It's not that it just FEELS like you've been kicked in the balls but next day the enormous bruise that colours all of your "Family Jewels" makes it appear you were kicked there!
Had it done many years ago and I didn't write back then and even if it was now, don't think I could have generated such humour out of describing the experience. I am far enough away from the experience to have laughed like a drain..
Thanks
Frewin

Frewin

#9  05 March 2007 - 08:19

 

Wow! I always knew that guys with vasectomies were cool, but that just cinches it. There should be a parade or something, seriously.

maybeknott

Comments: