Tuesday, April 15, 2008

The Unkindest Cut

So I saw Doctor Nutencutt yesterday. If you’ve never had a consultation for a vasectomy, let me tell you how it goes:

First of all, the doctor has to see if you’re serious. In my case, the doctor was about seventy years old and a chain smoker. For some reason, once I’d verified his hands were steady, that made me feel better.

He gave me the third degree about why I wanted a vasectomy, because it was damned well gonna be permanent and irreversible. Before answering, I took just a moment to verify he wasn’t thinking of castration. His answer, while vague enough to stand up in court in case there were any "misunderstandings", satisfied me. And he promised me sexual powers, or at least that my sexual powers wouldn’t diminish, which is really all a guy can ask for.

I told him that I had children, didn’t want any more, and my wife took a medicine that caused birth defects so we needed a certain method of birth control. He needed further convincing that I was serious and kept grilling me. Finally I said “if I don’t get a vasectomy my wife isn’t going to make love to me any more.”

“Drop your pants and hop up on the table so I can examine you,” he tells me.

If you’re keeping score: a two-headed monster baby is a maybe, but your wife cutting you off means clear sailing ahead. I've no idea whether or not the same thing works with a female doctor.

So then I’m laying on a table with no pants on. The doctor grabs my scrotum, makes a little skin puppet out of my ball sack, and then says “hi, I’m doctor testy! Do you want the local anesthetic, or option two?”

At this point I was trying to swallow my tongue and die. Failing that, I yelled out something about how I wanted the local anesthetic and agreed to be his bitch if only he’d let go. Only later did I even realize that option 2 might be blissful unconsciousness while he dissected me like one of those poor frogs in junior high. But it was too late by then.

Next thing I know I’m laying there feeling vaguely violated and trying not to vomit, and he drops this happy little bomb on me: “maybe I can fit you in for a vasectomy next Tuesday, okay? I’ll call you tomorrow and let you know.”

I had no idea that there was a line of doctors itching to chop on a guys testes. WTF is wrong with Europe that it takes seven months to get a shoulder replacement but vasectomies are basically done at the walk-in clinic? (kudos to S. Weasel for predicting this in the comments)

I’m seriously thinking about becoming a priest.

7 comments:

Anonymous said...

Dollop, come on. Shoulder replacement is a major surgery done by a specialist under general anesthesia that can take hours and requires hospitalization. Vasectomy is a ten minute outpatient snip that any physician can learn at day-camp. Does there really need to be an explanation as to why it's harder to schedule a shoulder replacement?

Perhaps the sweasels of the world find it funny, but the whinging drama just makes you look bad, especially given that your wife has already gone through friggin childbirth. I've had dental fillings that were more traumatic than my vasectomy.

Anonymous said...

By the way, local anesthetic is the right choice, although I wouldn't blame the doc for wanting to knock you out. General anesthetic has a lot more complications and leaves you with a massive hangover. It is overkill for a vasectomy. If you're so uptight, have a beer or two beforehand.

The Decembrist said...

Dollop, come on. Shoulder replacement is a major surgery...

Pop quiz, brave guy. Which would you rather: something go wrong with shoulder surgery so that it becomes useless, or the same for your testicles?

And if some of the other stuff he's written hasn't made him look bad I don't see how carping about a little thing like having a guy take a knife to his nuts will savage his rep.

Whinge on, Plebian. I've got your back.

Plebian said...

As a responsible blog operator, when there's a dispute on the blog, I have to step in and do something:

Fight! Fight! Fight!

Go for the jugular!

S. Weasel said...

Anonymous, seriously, are you like the Johnny Appleseed of the severed vas deferens, traveling from blog to blog spreading vasectomical cheer? Back in the Usenet days, they used to say never type "NAMBLA" in plain text or you'd be visited by one of their evangelists in short order.

Oh.

Shoot.

I just said it, didn't I?

Anonymous said...

S. Weasel, actually, thats Johnny AppleseedLESS to you. No seeds all juice, thank you very much.

I've had a relative go through a successful shoulder replacement, and it took her five years of physical therapy to get back to relatively normal functioning (although she'll never have 100% range of motion). So I can say that although I get laid as much as the next guy I do use my shoulder a lot more than my ballsack, and the rare complications that actually happen with vasectomies are really not that bad.

The Decembrist said...

I do use my shoulder a lot more than my ballsack...

You're confusing quantity with quality, dude. I'd gladly give up my ability to shoot hoops before I'd give up my ability to, um, "take it to the hole". The fact that I do the former a lot more than the latter's not an indication which one is dearer to my heart.