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.