Nerd in the Country, Part 3: Vasectomy
A short preface to this article. This is an experience I had that began over three months ago, but only ended last week. I have delayed posting about it (except a few Tweets about the actual procedure) because I knew I would want to post about the entire process and thought I would do that in a couple of posts right next to each other, rather than spaced out across three months. This is the first of two articles covering the topic of my vasectomy. It doesn’t have that much to do with being a nerd, however. I guess this is just another example of how advanced I think people are, when they turn out to be not that advanced at all.
Undoubtedly, some of you will want to hear about the procedure itself, and others will not. I will do a paragraph on the topic, but feel free to skip The Procedure portion if you are not interested. I will keep it short and sweet and will, in all likelihood, ruin a couple of foods for you.
It is a relatively painless process. They inject your scrotum and testicles with Novacane (yes the same stuff the dentist uses in your mouth) so you feel no pain after that. Two tiny incisions are made in the scrotum to act as access panels. They clip out a quarter to a half inch of your vas deferens. These pieces look a lot like cooked spaghetti with sauce. They then cauterize the incision with a laser, which smells a lot like bacon being cooked. Then you spend 2 or 3 days laying on the couch or in bed with frozen vegetables of one sort or another cradling your junk.
Again, I need to point out that I live in a town where the majority of the population is very conservative and usually frown upon people that choose to think outside the box. A few months ago I went “under the knife” and had a vasectomy. You can probably guess the various cracks that I’ve had to endure (and still am! Jesus get over it already!) at the hands of my fellow men. I’ve had the full range of reactions from men, none of which surprised me. Here’s a couple of example conversations:
Guy I Know: “So I saw on [now deleted social network page] that you had a sex change.”
Me: “Ummm… You mean a vasectomy?”
Guy I Know: “Same thing…”
This is a great example of two different conversations that went the same way for different reasons. The first knows the difference between the two, but was purposefully being a humongous dick wagon and is implying that not only am I no longer a man, but I am, in fact, now a woman. The second actually thought that vasectomy meant sex change.
Those are the extreme cases, however. A majority of the convos went something like this:
Guy I Know: “Why didn’t you just have the wifey get fixed?”
Me: “Well, there are plenty of good reasons. Its much safer, simpler and cheaper for me to get fixed. Plus, men recover in a couple days. Whereas with women, it can take weeks to recover. Besides, if she ever decides, in the future, that she wants out because I don’t want kids, she can still go pursue that. She doesn’t have to live with the decision that I’ve made. It just seems like the responsibility falls on me.”
Guy I Know: “Yeah, but didn’t it hurt?”
Me: “How much of a pussy are you that you wouldn’t just take a couple of days of pain so your wife (the person you supposedly love) doesn’t have to be down for a week and then have to deal with all the hormonal changes that would come with it?”
Guy I Know: “Me? A pussy? You’re the one that doesn’t have balls.”
Me: “Please go die in a fire.”
OK… so those last three lines might have been a dramatization, but its not that far off. My dramatization did (probably) manage to communicate my level of annoyance with this line of questioning.
Very few guys just said, “Well good for you. You’ve made a decision to not have children and have made a move to achieve that goal.” In fact, only three guys I know actually something to that effect, and they are my grandfather, my father-in-law and my brother, Ben.
I know that several females also had a negative reaction to my getting fixed, but they are too cowardly to say anything to me about it and, instead, chose to tell my wife various things. I didn’t ask what they said, because what they have to say will probably just make me angry. Although, I do want to throw this little bit out to them. I don’t tell you how to raise your children, so please don’t tell my wife how she should raise my lack of children.
That pretty much covers almost every conversation I’ve had for the past 3 months. Although no one actually asked, I KNOW (I could tell from the looks on their faces) that most dudes wanted to ask to see the incisions, but didn’t want to seem “all faggy.” Furthermore, I probably would have shown them.
Last week, I had to take in a semen sample to be tested and make sure the procedure took. That turned out to be quite the fuckerou! I’m going to save that part for its own post, as this one seems to have gone on quite long enough. Add me to your Circles on Google+, Follow me on Twitter or subscribe to my RSS Feed here for that update.