“My friend said it was the worst experience he’s ever had…”

“My nut swelled up like a rotten peach.”

“The anesthesia didn’t work…and it felt like someone shoved an ice-pick in my sack and out my eye.”

“It wasn’t one of my favorite experiences, I can say that.”

“It was no big deal.”

“My sack swelled up to the size of a softball.”

These are all different responses I got from people who have had vasectomies done. Which ones would YOU remember? It’s like the guy who said his was ‘no big deal’ doesn’t even exist. Granted, anytime a “procedure” no matter how minor, is being done to one’s testicles, there is going to be fear and apprehension involved, but add visions of rotten peaches, and softball sized scrotums and a whole new level of paranoia sets in.

…And so it was with me when I recently had a vasectomy.

Honestly, 8 years ago when a friend of mine had one where the anesthetic didn’t work, and he felt them CUT his tube…from that point on…I vowed that I was not going to get it done…no way…not ever.

They’re MY nuts, and honestly, the thought of intentionally inflicting trauma on them just seems stupid…and downright mean.

BUT…

Time passes, children are born, and life moves forward, and then there comes a time when that decision gets made for you in a sense. Two kids, and 8 years later, I found myself standing at the beginning of the bridge to child-free lovin’.

I was going to get ‘snipped’ as they say.

I still wasn’t happy about it. Call me a sissy, or whatever, I don’t care…but once I found out the “procedure” was imminent, I began asking people who had it done, to brace myself for what I was getting in to…and I got a lot of responses, most of which didn’t make me want to have it done at all. To think, most people PAY to have it done, out of their own pocket. Thankfully, my insurance covered the procedure, and would allow me to be unconscious for the entire thing.

SWEET.

The procedure went fine, and I woke up from a minor sleep with a jockstrap on and a bag of ice on my crotch.

That was last week, and while the bag of ice has disappeared, the jock strap remains. The aftermath of the surgery hasn’t been any fun. Pecos helped describe the feeling almost perfectly. Even though he still hasn’t had one done. Picture a time when you had to take a deuce so bad you almost soiled your pants…that gross feeling in your stomach where there’s a bit of pain, lots of discomfort, and some nausea…not to the point you’re immobile, and useless…but to the point you feel very uncomfortable…it’s kind of like that 24 hours a day. You have to keep the boys locked up in the jock, otherwise they flonder around and inevitably knock into something (not like a table or anything, but your leg, or each other) and send pain shooting through your body.

So wearing the jock keeps the twins in line so to speak.

Now, wearing the jock while you sleep sucks, because, it’s not real comfortable…so figuring you can minimize movement while asleep, you’ll leave it off at night. Getting up to take a leak, or get a glass of water, you’ll try to get up, sleepy-eyed, and forget to put the jock back on…and the boys go on a minor tear and knock each other, or your leg, and nearly drop you with the pain.

I’ve been going on for a week now like this. They’re getting better slightly every day, and according to the Dr. everything is going “par for the course” but still, it hasn’t been fun. The pain is minor when they’re cooped up in the jock all day, but at night when they’ve been set free, or in the shower…the pain is very uncomfortable.

My advice is when the Dr. says stay off the feet, and rest for 2-3 days afterwards…take 4 or 5 to be sure.

Then thank your lucky stars you only have it done once.