Graham’s experience: Things that go SNIP in the night!

A while ago on my web page, I told of how our daughter Nicole was born, the last paragraph being “I wonder if I’ll scream as loud as Bev when I go for ‘the chop’ in a short while”. At long last, I have the answer for you (as if you REALLY want to know)!

I say ‘at long last’ because I was able to put it off for many months, being a natural coward. The way I saw it was that I’d managed to avoid having my tonsils and wisdom teeth operated on, so I was damn sure that I wouldn’t let anyone tamper with the other end of my anatomy!

Needless to say, common sense prevailed (or the fear that if we had any more kids I’d need to buy a mini-bus), so I finally fixed a date for the vasectomy. It took me about a month to get the courage to read the pamphlet that arrived through the post, with a description of the operation that would make any red-blooded male cross his legs and wince.

Everyone gave me so much support. Yeah, right! The truth of the matter is that they were all too busy laughing at my expense (an answerphone message with the song “snip-a-dee-do-dah”, a presentation box labeled “The Male Contraception Kit” containing a small pair of scissors, that sort of thing!).

Bev took me to the surgery and waited with the kids in the waiting room. She confessed afterward that she enjoyed every minute of seeing all these men sitting there looking more nervous than those on ‘death row’. You could almost smell the fear (I shouldn’t have had the Madras Curry in the staff restaurant the day before)!

Next came the embarrassing part. Sitting on the operating table wearing only a pair of socks and a sweatshirt, with my love-plums shaved as bald as a coot and surgical tape holding my pecker out of harm’s way, just as the door opens and a young female assistant walks in. Err, hello!

The part that I wasn’t looking forward to was the injection of local anesthetic. Someone at work had brought to light exactly where the needle was to go in and this alone nearly made me cancel the appointment and become celibate instead.

I lay there staring at the ceiling, whilst the surgeon smeared my private parts in alcohol. I felt a tugging sensation then after a few seconds he said “Well, that’s the hardest part out of the way”.

I sighed a breath of relief and asked “You mean that you’ve already given me the injection?”. He answered “No, I mean that’s the hardest part for me – finding the tubes. The hardest part for you is just coming up now…”.

“Aaarrrrrrrgh!!”

Fortunately for me, the surgeon had a sense of humor, anyway. He told me that I’d have to wear some protective gauze for a couple of days and said that when I showered the next day it would be easy enough to peel off. He then added that if one of my balls fell out with it, I should give him a call as soon as possible…

Actually, I must admit that the operation itself was much better than I’d imagined. I can’t say it hurt at all, although given the choice I’d rather have been somewhere else! Walking out into the waiting room a bit like John Wayne after a horse-ride across Texas, I noticed some worried blokes looking to see the expression on my face. I attempted a smile just to reassure them.

Had I known that once the anesthetic had worn off I was to spend the day feeling as if someone had clamped diving weights to my testicles, I probably wouldn’t have smiled quite so much!

I was handed two ‘specimen jars’ on the way out, to ensure in a few weeks time that I was ‘firing blanks’ if you know what I mean. To add insult to injury they also gave me an instruction leaflet, for how to provide the ‘specimen’. Be serious!

Just for the record, I would add to my story that I needed FIVE tests before being given the all-clear, plus I’m sad to say I’m one of the “2%” that’s suffered epididymitis (if that’s how you spell it!) regularly since the operation. Sometimes it’s really uncomfortable for a few days at a time and I have to take Tylenol. I’m still glad I went through with it though.

Submitted by Graham