Vasectomy

Vasectomy
I was desperate for a game of football and omitted to tell Dave Wilson,
the manager, that I had only just had a vasectomy 8 days before. I told
him afterwards and he asked if I experienced any pain. To be honest the
only discomfort was when I put me back out whilst trying to shave my
vital parts prior to the operation. You never get any instructions on
this delicate manoeuvre; no manual with pictures and advice from other
blokes is next to useless. To this day these are the only stitches I
have ever had and as they are from my vasectomy I don't get much chance
to show them off.

You hear all the horror stories about seven foot blokes being reduced
to tears with the pain after the operation. Their testicles swell up to
the size of watermelons and they spend the next two months wearing
tracksuit bottoms and walking slowly. I suffered some slight discomfort
and did take a day off work. The worst part was living with the
nickname 'Jaffa', although Satsuma would be more appropriate.

The story of the vasectomy started about two years earlier. Holly, our
youngest, had just been born and after a few hours Mum and Baby came
home to be looked after by yours truly. The labour had been pretty
routine from my point of view. A kind nurse had found a rocking chair
to ease the pain of the arduous prolonged event. I later found out the
chair was for the wife to give her variation in sitting positions. I
had been there all night and after a good kip I went out to stretch my
legs, get a paper and put some money in the parking meter. On my return
I had missed the action and was presented with a beautiful baby girl. I
was a little surprised as our two earlier efforts had both produced
boys. There did not seem too much difference although I was soon to be
shown the evidence.

As is usual our Family Doctor conducts a home visit to see if all is
well. Mum and baby had been in the hospital less than 24 hours. This is
a way of releasing Hospital beds for Private patients. Our Doctor had
spent about 15 minutes upstairs with the wife and after announcing that
all was well, I was showing him to the door. We stood at the doorway
exchanging pleasantries when he suddenly said, " Your wife informs me
that you are interested in having a vasectomy". To be fair we had
discussed it and I was agreeable to discussing it further. I proudly
informed the good doctor that this was my intention and he suggested we
go into the living room. You must understand that he was outside the
house at the time and for him to want to come inside made me think he
was going to perform the operation there and then. You cannot imagine
the thoughts going through my head at that time. I seem to remember
shoving my hands in my pockets in a defensive manner as if that would
help. To my relief he only wanted to advise me that it should be
considered when the youngest child is at least 6 months old.

I would advise anybody considering this form of contraception to go for
it. Of course it is more suited to the male gender. I did in fact hurt
my back shaving my under carriage. I hitched my left leg on to the rim
of the bath and bent over to see what my hand was shaking at. As I got
closer to the area to be shorn I bent that bit too far and felt a nasty
twinge in the back. After that I just waved the old 2 in 1 at the
general area and had a go.

Not knowing what the procedure was I had a bath and made the mistake of
dousing myself with the usual Boots Baby powder. When I arrived at the
Consultants house I was showing signs of nerves and self-doubt. Once
inside there was no turning back. Believe me I tried it. Having your
manhood attacked certainly focuses the mind. This was a private job as
the NHS was not an option in our county. I was told I would have a
better chance getting B&;Q to do it. A ten-minute wait was ended by
the summons by the nurse to the inner sanctum. I stood there in just a
gown that was loosely tied at the back and a pair of comedy socks. Well
they made the nurse laugh at the strategic positioning of the holes in
them.

I lay on the operating table, and as the surgeon turned on the lights
the nurse lifted up the gown and I thought it was Christmas. The talcum
powder rose in the bright light like one of those snow globes that you
shake to enact the Christmas scene. I am unsure if this was the reason
that he automatically put on the mask. There were no problems, but as
the wife was present she drove me home. I think she was only there to
make sure that I went through with it.

After the operation I was curious to see the stitches, as these were
the first I had ever had. I took the wife's make-up mirror and placed
it between my legs for a close inspection. I was astounded, all I could
see was a small pinprick (scuse the pun). I was in awe of the surgeon
who performed this minute operation through this space. This was
keyhole surgery at its best. (The pinprick was where I had an a local
anaesthetic). I immediately wanted to show everybody but Alison
suggested I restrict it to family and friends starting with her. Trust
me to get it wrong. I had another look and found two one and a half
inch scars on either side of my important bits. Funny enough that was
when it started to hurt a little.

I am often asked if I have any regrets. Hand on heart I can honestly
say no. I have never had any problems and the wife thinks I am a saint.
During the three months after the operation you have to have your sperm
count measured. Where I live this means taking a sample to the local
BUPA Hospital which is four miles away. Usually you have two tests just
to make sure but for some reason I needed three. You do the deed at
home and rush the specimen jar to the hospital within a couple of
hours. On my final trip I returned home and just before I went in doors
I saw a friend. I was explaining where I had been and why I had been
there and he just said, 'Hope you wont take offence if I don't shake
hands'. We beat Deanwood that day 20-0 and I was on for the last 30
minutes but failed to score. Probably hampered by the sling around my
nuts.