The biggest part was fear.

The biggest part was fear. The wife was for it, I don’t know who brought it up first, but there had been a continous discussion on it, and I made the decision. After two marriages, four kids, I finally got a boy. And I’m of an age where you don’t want any more, you don’t want to be dead and the kids are ten years old.

So, I went to the doctors office and got a brochure. The Doc comes in for a consultation, and he’s memorized everything that you’ve just read in the brochure.

The questions tho, are the toughest. Does it still work, how long before I can have sex again (one week, but it needs to be protected, ’cause the boys are still in the channel, ready and willing) and then he says “drop ’em”.

Big suprise there. I thought there wasn’t going to be physical at this time. Then he grabs my balls and say “no problem”.

You ask him “how’s it done?” and he says “here’s how I do it. A single slit down the middle, one small slit hidden by the hang.”

So, I make an appointment, and show up, 8:30am on wednesday morning, figure I’d get done early, give me 24 hours before the work has their volleyball, drinks, and appetizers event. No vasectomy’s gonna make me stop. (I mentioned it to co-workers so they would realize why I wasn’t my usual stellar self).

Day of surgery arrives. I’m there 15 minutes early, and everybody else is late. The operation doesn’t kick off ’til a quarter to nine. They have you undress and tell you to lay a coarse paper towel over Mr. Johnson.

Then they put you on a cold hard table that’s been fitted with stirrups, and you realize that what you want to do most is jump up and walk out.

So, after Mr. Johnson’s been hanging out under the coarse paper towel for ten minutes while you pretend to read TIME magazine, the doctor shows up.

The Doctor was a really good, easy going guy. The sort of person you could drink a beer with. Reasonably young guy, in his mid 40’s.

First he shaves the front of my scrotum, lifting Mr. Johnson out of the way with a finger. Then the boys get a dip of the familiar nasty orange/brown disinfectant. Then they shoot up your sac with a local, and go in.

I felt an entrance, some pressure, but absolutely no pain. In the meanwhile, they aren’t doing anything to keep me from watching, but I’m busy counting the ceiling tiles and trying not to mentally visualize the operation.

About this time, the whole body’s clenching up as much as possible.

Five minutes in, I’m asking for continous status reports, just because I couldn’t feel anything. He made his incision, and snipped the tubes, the tied them, then covered them with a little extra tube. The process felt like two fingers, gently squeezing.

In the meanwhile, I’ve suddenly realized a bunch of questions that I should have asked before we started. And I start telling jokes. Then he pulls out a soldering iron and begins searing me. Another local on the other side, and he’s done. Twenty minutes total.

So, he gives me some pain pill, I took them all on the way home (you won’t feel any pain for two or three hours hell! I didn’t feel any all day!)

And the next day, i went out and partied, probably too much, becauses I was sore on the left side for about a week.

Seven days of pain, and then it started slowly going away. I wasn’t allowed to take any standard pain killers because of the way that they thin the blood. So, since I swallowed my prescription days ago, it was all about living with the pain.

About four days afterwards, a silver dollar sized bruise showed up on the left side of scrotum and Mr. Johnson, and stayed for a while.

Six days after the operation, I woke up at 3:00am and moved out to the couch to avoid waking da wife. Since it was early in the morning, and there wasn’t anything else to do, I decided to check the equipment, and found it still functions properly.

Overall, no change in sexual desire, they still shrink in cold situations, and everything works fine. They just hang lower.

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