Member-only story
Lived Through This
A Failed Vasectomy Changed My Life
No matter what, the Universe is looking out for you
I was nervous when I walked through the door of the clinic. I was even more nervous lying on the table in my surgical gown, legs apart as the nurse happily shaved my balls. Maybe they gave me some Valium. I really can’t remember. I doubt it.
But I do remember when the doc brought out the needle filled with local anesthesia. It was the largest I’d ever seen, and it would be inserted not once, but twice into my now clean-shaven, yes — those. “You’re going to feel a little pinch now.” Ouch. Thanks for that. Fuckers.
I didn’t pass out, perhaps because the doc and the nurse talked the entire pre-op phase about their weekend plans and how the local football team was doing. Do they even realize I’m lying here on the table, scared out of my mind? I figured they didn’t take the class on helping patients feel like you care about them.
Out came the snips, knives, surgical saws, and whatever else was needed to cut the vas, the tubes that carry the sperm to the launch pad. The docs continued their banter through all the necessary slicing and dicing. All of a sudden, it was over.
