Getting Cut

         Speaking as a man, it’s an altogether strange, unique and, frankly, disturbing thing to feel your penis and not have your penis feel you. Does that make sense? Of course not, if you touch a part of your body, you should be able to feel the point of contact with both the body part you use to touch, in this case my fingers, and the body part being touched, in this case my penis. No it wasn’t my entire penis that was numb but a good deal of the shaft. Why? I had a vasectomy. And this was only one of the disturbing things about the experience.

         We decided a long time ago that neither of us wanted children, us being myself and the wife. It’s not that we hate kids, we just hate any of them that happen to be near us. Unless it’s your kids, of course we love your kids, don‘t be silly.  We discussed the different methods of birth control and how much she hates being on “the pill.” Condoms irritated her, I suspect allergies, but she denies it. And I decided a little pain would probably be worth it in the long run seeing as the failure rate of the procedure is rather slim.

         We went to a doctor last year and were turned away because he thought it unethical for a twenty-eight year old man to make an adult decision about his life, but felt ethically sound in taking my money. So we waited, broken hearted and disenchanted with the idea until a year later when I decided it was time to try again. This time we hit the jackpot: rather than have a consult where the doctor decides if you’re unfit to make such decisions in your life, this place offered same day service.

         A little news about me, I can be an ass. I thought, this is a once in a life time ordeal, I should document it. And so I asked the doc if we could take pictures of the procedure, doubting the possibilities.
“I don’t have a problem with it, sure,” he said.  And so it was the wife became a medical photographer for about half an hour.

         Now leading up to this I was fine. No real nervousness to speak of, calm heart rate and all that, cool as a cucumber, as they say. The nurse even comment on how calm I was. But when the doctor asked me to undress from the waist down and hop in the chair-- my body, every muscle, spasmed. Suddenly parts of me wanted to leave. Luckily most of me wanted to stay, including my brain which was in control.

          Stirrups are rather uncomfortable. My wife tells me that she usually has a place to rest her feet when she gets placed in them once a year. I had no luxury. My legs were draped over these padded medieval rape devices (obviously designed to keep a woman spread for deeper anal penetration), so that my nether-parts were open and displayed like the Mona Lisa in the Lourve.  I did have a drape to keep any wandering eyes from sneaking a peek at what I had to offer, but why deny my adoring fans?

         Herr Doktor came in and placed another drapery upon me, this one with a hole made especially for a scrotum to dangle through, a sight which, honestly, seems utterly ridiculous. Iodine, which is rather cold was applied. And then the needle, which I made the mistake of looking at as he uncapped it. It’s funny how they always down play things, “You’re going to feel a little pinch.” Allow me to translate that, “You’re going to feel a piercing stab in your nut-sack, followed by knife-like sensation in you sacrum, which is that bone at the base of your spine that is part of the pelvis,”  oh yea, “Then while your right testicle seems to gain ten pounds and feels like gravity is working over time, you’re going to feel a second ’pinch’ on the left side, with much the same feeling as the first.” 

         While waiting for the pain of your nuts to subside, time slows down; a minute becomes an hour. Amazingly, after the drug kicks in, you really feel nothing. Looking at the wife’s face as she snapped away with the camera, told me things I knew; this was not something I wanted to feel. Then I heard him working away, the clinking of the metal tools, that sickening snip, when flesh has been cleaved.  But I felt none of it-- utterly disturbing. I did feel, however, the coldness of what I assume was the clamp used to hold the Vas Deferens in place, when I dropped to a lower part of my scrotum that was apparently not numbed. That was a little frightening.

         Many people, myself included, have made the joke of having sex so hard and fast you start a fire. Let me tell you, to look down at your crotch and actually see smoke coming from it is more than a little disturbing. This was my manhood on the line. I couldn’t see anything other than white smoke billowing up from between my legs! What the hell was happening? He was cauterizing the Vas is what. I knew it was coming, I even knew what it would smell like. Still to look down and see that-- shivers down my spine.

         The next couple minutes went by so fast I don’t even really remember them. I remember the doc wiping up the area for a good clean picture and then he was gone. So I took a picture of the wife and I as two happy smiling non-parents. Then I proceeded to un-drape myself from the stirrups and slowly get dressed. I don’t know if it was nerves or the stirrups, but my legs felt weak and shaky for the rest of the day.  I was given a prescription for Percoset which seems to be rather useless, as I can’t really tell a difference when I take them. I only hope that my taking them is the reason my recovery has gone as smoothly as it has.

         I never thought I’d enjoy the sensation of anything frozen held against my genitalia. But in order to keep the swelling down, I have been placing a bag of frozen vegetables under and against my testicles for about thirty minutes every hour or two. I only hope it doesn’t become a fetish.  So far the worst part has been having to wear underwear, which I haven’t worn since high school. Not boxer shorts, but briefs. I can only hope that it will indeed be brief. Still, it’s better than feeling the awesome effects of gravity trying pull my nuts off.

         A fan of irony, I enjoyed immensely the fact that I scheduled this to be done on March 20th, the first day of Spring; a time of rejuvenation and rebirth and fertility, and here we were, ensuring that I become sterile. How can you not laugh at that?


Bradley.