The idea of vasectomy had been kicking around in my head for some time, about as long as could remember, probably as long as I had known about the procedure. Not wanting children and hearing horror stories of accidental pregnancies and not trusting my wife (or anyone else for that matter) with birth control, I had always wanted it done. However, I had this sort of defeatist attitude towards it, with images in my head of a kindly old doctor telling me to ‘come back when you’re 40.’ One day it had dawned on me that now married and soon to turn 30, I was near an ideal candidate or at least someone who could make a good argument for wanting one. I looked around on the internet for urologists in my area and found one that specialized in vasectomy. Not wanting some doctor inexperienced with the procedure clunking around in my genitals with his clumsy hands, I decided he might be the man for the job. I also figured if he specialized in the procedure, he would be a lot more open to doing it on a reasonably young childfree man such as myself. I called him and made an appointment, for about a week later.
A week passed and I head to the doctor for my consultation. I show up and am asked to pay a $20 dollar co-payment. I paid cash. About five min later the doctor shows up, hands me a brochure, and explains all the usual information about the procedure and how it works. He explains the cuts, clips (with surgical metal clips), and cauterizes ‘just to make sure.’ He then asks me a series of questions, how long I’ve been married, how many children, and what if I changed my mind. My answers were: 1 year but I’ve known my wife for 11 years and lived with her for 7, no children and no I don’t ever want them, and I would never change my mind and I am aware of the permanence and will accept any future consequences for the procedure. That seemed to satisfy him. He did seem sad that my wife didn’t come to the consultation and told me she could call him anytime if she had any questions. He examined me (standing with my pants around my ankles, very awkward) and then told me to go ahead and make an appointment for the procedure. He told me to shave and wear briefs and handed me a release form for my wife and me to sign. I did ask him about chronic pain, and he said he has yet to have a patient of his own to have it, although he has heard of it. I made the appointment for a week later.
Another week passes I wake up early after getting no sleep (more over-excitement, than nervousness) I shave, put on my briefs, get dressed and head out to the doctor’s office. My wife was kind enough to drive me. I hand the receptionist the form (they never so much as looked at it or spoke to my wife, I realized I could have just scribbled anything instead of having her sign it, and they wouldn’t know the difference,) and another $20 co-payment and wait. This time I have to wait forever to be called in, apparently another procedure ran late. Eventually, they call me in, tell me to take off my pants, boots, and underwear (they let me keep my socks and shirt on, I wore a sweater, doctors’ offices are always cold), and have a seat on the table. I sat there for another really long time and had a look at the surgical instruments they had on the table, and eventually, the doctor came in to see me. He has a look at me, throws a paper cloth with a hole in it over my genitals, pokes them through the hole, and wipes me down with iodine. Now, until this moment, I was convinced that I would like to watch the whole procedure. However, when I see him grab a needle (a very small one, at that) and move it towards me, I decide it would be best not to watch at least that part. While he does his thing I watch the news on the television and make small talk with him about places we’ve traveled. He was working quickly, totally business, like a mechanic working on a car. As he talks to me, I see his gloves becoming more bloody, and I decide it’s best not to watch. Nothing really hurt, just some tugging and a little bit of pressure. He seals it up with a single stitch, lets me sit a minute, gives me a piece of gauge, and tells me to put it in my underwear and get dressed. The whole thing took about 15 minutes.
He has me have a seat in my office, and calls my wife in (to show her his vacation pictures, he had been to the same island we were married on) and tells me what I expect, no sex for 4 days, I need to give two samples one at 6 weeks and one at 12, keep it clean and put ointment on my scar until it heals, and gives me a little cup, a business card, a prescription for antibiotics and some pain medicine.
About an hour after the procedure I started to feel some pressure in the area, not painful, and nothing I couldn’t handle. I slept with a bag of ice and in the morning I felt much better. It was sensitive for about two weeks afterward, I wore the briefs for that period and avoided stairs, and after that, it was back to normal. The hardest part was the no sex for 4 days (not even the lonely kind…) I cut the single stitch out myself on the 5th day (it was the dissolving kind and was supposed to fall out on its own, but I wanted to have sex and was worried it would hurt me.)
6 weeks later I dropped off the first sample, and the second 12 weeks later. Both came up clear and I was given the go-ahead for unprotected sex. It’s been about 8 months since I had the procedure and I feel great. Sex is much more enjoyable without any nagging “what if’s” in the back of my mind, and I sleep great. There is no pain and unless I told anyone, no one would ever know. Everything works and looks exactly the same as it did before. Best decision I ever made and no regrets whatsoever.
Submitted by Chris
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- JockstrapsPapi Men’s Cotton Jock Strap 3-Pack
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