Nerd in the Country, Part 4: “It’s A WHAT Sample?”

This post is a follow-up post to another in this series known as “Nerd in the Country.” You will find “Nerd in the Country: Vasectomy” by clicking it, should you like to read it before you read this one.

After a male homo sapien has a vasectomy, he has to take a semen sample in to the lab to have it checked out and to make sure he actually has no more live sperm showing up in his semen. According to WebMD, a male should not take in a sample until after 90 days or 20 ejaculations. I elected to wait the full 90 days as I did not want to take in a sample too early and end up having to wait another three months before I took in another sample to be tested. The final results are not the point of this blog posting, so I will just throw it out there now that I have a sperm count of zero and I am now a circle slash babies zone! This blog post applies more to the story of having to turn in the sample rather than the final results. It might seem like a simple process, but it was actually quite the pain in the ass!

I was due to turn in my sample on June 22, 2012. June 22, however, turned out to be a Saturday in which my doctor’s office is closed. So I waited until Monday and decided to call to make sure that I was taking the sample to right place. No one at my doctor’s office answered the phone at all that day or the next two, so I decided to “extract the sample” and just take it down there. That also is not as easy as it seems either.

Once the sample has been “extracted” you only have 30 minutes to get that sample turned in before the sample is considered contaminated. I figure that leaves me 25 minutes as I will need to wash my hands and gain composure before I leave. There is a lot of comedy merit to showing up at the doctor’s office sweating and out of breath to turn in a semen sample, but probably not a look that most people would shoot for. #HindsightIs20/20

I walk in to the doctor’s office and look at the lady behind the counter and tell her that I have a sample to turn in for Dr. [name deleted for his privacy]. He is the doctor that performs 96% of all vasectomy procedures in this town, so I figured it would go without saying what kind of sample… I was wrong. She immediately asked what kind of sample and I almost blurted out, “Cum.” before I realized that I should probably refer to it as semen. Again, comedy merit… but, alas, I must not have been feeling funny that day. She steps away from the counter for a minute to check on something and comes back visibly holding back laughter. I’ll give her the benefit of the doubt and assume that someone in the room she came back from said something funny and she thought it inappropriate to laugh really hard in front of a patient, for some reason. In the moment, however, especially when toting around a plastic cup of your own jizz, it is hard to shake the idea that everyone that is laughing at something isn’t laughing at you. She instructs me that my sample should actually have been taken to the lab, which was down the hall and around the corner. #MyBad

Quick Timer Check: 5 minutes to gain composure + 5 minutes travel time + 5 minutes at wrong doctor’s office = 15 minutes

Image: HalloweenCostumes.com

With only 15 minutes left I head over to the lab where the little bimbo behind the counter proceeds to chat on the phone for several minutes after my arrival. I don’t want to seem like I’m listening in on the convo, so I make it apparent that I’m going to stand down the hall about 10 paces to respect her privacy by flailing at her in a way that may be construed as, “I see that you are currently occupied by a phone call with, what I assume is, another patient. So I’ll courteously stand down here where I will seem to not be eaves dropping, when you and I both know that, clearly, that’s exactly what I’ll be doing.” After several more minutes, she’s still nattering away with what is obviously not a patient. I haven’t heard her say any words that would make me believe she’s on the phone with a patient! Not a single “itis” or “benign” crossed my ears. I then immediately jump to the conclusion that, rather than doing her job, she’s blathering my countdown away with one of her twat friends or her tool bag of a guy. I start to think about what the rudest way I could possibly offer a semen sample to her is. As I begin to drift into the depth’s of derogatory terms you can call a woman, she calls me over. I approach the window with my very best smile but probably looks to her more like an embarrassed and awkward panic grin. It must look like that, because the second I say, “Hello. I was told to turn my semen sample in here.” her reaction is to push away from the counter in her rolling chair, hold her hands up as though I just pulled a weapon from my pocket, look at me as though I am “extracting” said sample at that very moment and say, “Those go to the hospital.” in the most disgusted way you could possibly imagine. I want to point out, again, that the sample is contained in a plastic cup… I’m not just holding a drippy hand full of cum out to her and saying, “TAKE MY CUM!” but that is certainly how she is reacting to it. After offering my apologies and assuring her that the lady in Dr. [name deleted for his privacy]’s office told me to bring it here, I am once again instructed to take the sample to the hospital lab.

Quick Timer Check: 5 minutes composure + 5 minutes travel + 5 minutes wrong place + 5 minutes different wrong place = 20 minutes

Needless to say, at this point, something that wasn’t weird to me when I started out has now become weird. I now have the sense that every person I walk by is judging me in one way or another… In my mind I can hear every woman calling me a perv and every man calling me “Broke Dick”! If those people happen to be with their child(ren), I believe that they are awaiting me to spin the top off the cup and fling the contents upon their unsuspecting 9-14 year old boy or girl while saying aloud, “Hello there young one; I am a pedophile, rapist and potential murderer. Would you like some candy and/or to help me find my lost kitten?” Looking back on this blog post, I may have some sexual hang-ups due to religious brain washing in the past. #FaithBasedShameAndPossiblyFearRegardingSex

Nonetheless, I now only have 10 minutes to get across town to the hospital. After a 3 minute drive and another 4 minutes trying to find a spot to park, I am now running into the hospital. I just may get to approach the window with my cum cup while sweating and breathing heavily after all! #SecondChances I manage to take a minute to bring it down a notch and approach the window to find a late twenty/early thirty something, also on the phone! I take a moment to consider the possibility that the lady at the other lab may have been chatting up this one. It then occurs to me that the same lady may have called ahead to warn this lady that some weird guy was about to show up at her place of work and masturbate upon her, so I feel even weirder. In hindsight, listening to that Selena Gomez tune on the radio on my way to the hospital probably didn’t help me shake the feeling of being a sexual predator… #YouLiveYouLearn

[youtube http://youtu.be/EgT_us6AsDg]

I flail at this nurse in the same way I did at the last to communicate that I will be down here when she’s ready. I am a little panicked, as my timer is almost up and ticking loudly in my head. She finally calls me over where I quietly say, “I was instructed to bring a semen sample here.” This nurse must deal with this kind of thing all the time, since this is the place to bring semen samples. Both of those last girls reacted strangely because that was not where a semen sample should have been taken. This lady will definitely can not possibly react in the same manner… wrong. Again, I apparently have a weapon, because her hands go up and she takes a couple of steps back and looks at me weird. At this point I get angry because I’m fairly tired of having people react to me as though I’m some sort of serial molester that specializes in small town nurses, so I say, “Jesus christ… It’s semen in a cup, not AIDS on a needle! Just take it and gimme some paperwork to fill out!” She apparently doesn’t realize that she has, up to this point, been treating me like a radioactive mutant and looks at me like I am the one being fucking rude. At that point an ACTUAL doctor (also female) enters the room and sees the interaction. She rolls her eyes at me in a way that communicates to me that the bimbo I’ve been dealing with is an idiot. She is super nice and gives me the appropriate paperwork. Finally! A fucking professional!

The paperwork is a series of questions that either

  1. Are not usually asked of a male, or
  2. The most ridiculous questions you’ve ever seen

Actual Questionnaire: Click to Enlarge

I want to take a minute to react to a few of these:

Q1) I circled the first option. It occurs to me that I can’t be the only person with issues around sexy type things considering “Coitus Interruptus” is actually an option. You should be able to figure out what “Coitus Interruptus” is, if not, it’s proof that people have even worse sexual hangups than I do. #WIN

Q2) I was unaware that this would have to be tracked…

Q3) Fucking YES! See above!

Q4) This is one of those things they had to put on there like a warning tags on hair dryers, isn’t it. That means that someone used the pullout method on a specimen collection cup.

Q6) Wait… am I supposed to have one of those? I THOUGHT I knew what an OB/GYN was, but what if I’m wrong? I know what the GYN stands for, what does the OB stand for? *Panicked search through mind dictionary* -NO RESULTS FOUND- SHIT! Am I supposed to have one of those?

Q7) You KNOW someone has said, “Nope… I had my girlfriend spit it into the cup. #LAWLZ!” I am curious how many people have actually said that. Now I wonder how many nurses have pretend laughed at that joke but actually thought the guy was a tool bag. #EveryTime

That’s the tale I wanted to tell. I hope it was entertaining to hear about and I also hope it doesn’t make you reconsider having the procedure, if you are considering it. The benefit far outweighs one shitty day like this.

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About Alloy Matt

Happy Husband | Beardsman | Blogger | Dreamer | Wholigan | Drinker of Coffees | Tweeter of Hashtags | Gamer of Table Tops | Amature Astronomer | Fanboy of Apple

Posted on August 10, 2012, in Geek, Nerd, Nerd in the Country, Personal and tagged , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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