My Vasectomy

Here is a little story about my big balls. Yes I am going to tell you about my experience of when I had my vasectomy operation. I know all of you are thrilled to hear about my balls, but there is some serious humor/tragedy involved here so I hope you enjoy it. When I wrote my post about how I am horribly afraid of needles, I had this post in mind but I had to tell you about the needle story first so you could see this story in the right perspective.

Back when my ex wife got pregnant, it was decided that one of us had to get snipped as she never wanted kids to begin with. Well we ended up having twins and since she had to have a c-section, we decided that it would be best if she would get snipped since they already had to open her up anyways. Little did I know that the rest of my marriage would be sexless so it really didn’t matter that she got fixed. Fast forward to 2006 when me and my ex split up, we had talked about neither of us ever having kids again as we didn’t want our kids to have to put up with half brothers/sisters. So early in 2007 after much consideration, I decided that I would go ahead and get a vasectomy as I had read that they were pretty easy procedures with a limited amount of pain (boy was I wrong on this). I went and saw a specialist and got all of my concerns and questions answered and scheduled the surgery for a Thursday morning in May.

Well the day came and my ex drove me to the hospital (you couldn’t drive yourself there and home) to have my surgery done. She dropped me off early in the morning on her way to work. By the way that is a little fucked up mentally if you think about it, having your ex-wife drive you to a vasectomy surgery. I checked in and was forced to put the hospital assless gown on. Why wasn’t my gown that day crotch less as I was there for an operation on my front side? After signing the required paperwork and getting changed, I was led back to a preparation room.

It was then that the horrors of my day began. In the prep room, a nurse with two syringes came into my room. I got two shots of Demerol, one in each arm. I did not pass out from the shots, but I sure as fuck did tense up. I was told to rub the injection spot on each arm to help the Demerol take affect quicker. I rubbed each arm for half an hour and it did nothing. I guess when I had tensed up it caused the pain killer to not work because I was not feeling anything from it.

I was then pushed in a wheel chair into the operating room where it was cold as fuck. I think that room on that day was colder than the lowest recorded temperature on the planet. Ever. So the three nurses had me lie down on the operating table and put up a nice little sheet right over my stomach so that I could not see anything below the waist. The three women proceeded to lather me up for shaving my balls. Now I manscape regularly so it was not like there was a lot of hair down there, but the nurses were intent on shaving me for the operation anyways. The nurses proceed to shave me and I was not able to see what was going on at all. It was at that exact moment that they were tugging and pulling on my balls and then cut me. Not one time, but multiple times with cheap razors. I protested just a tad, and the evil nurses decided to use an Epilady shaver on me (anyone remember those from the 1990’s). And they cut me about three more times with the Epilady. I then told the three evil bitches nurses, “Don’t you damn women shave your legs? Don’t you damn women shave you underarms? Don’t you damn women shave your twats? Why the fuck if you don’t cut yourselves when you shave your bodies, are you carving up my balls like a butcher?” Yes I know that those statements were ballsy at the time considering that they were holding my now bleeding balls, but it needed to be said. I also told them that if they kept cutting me, the doctor would not have to make any incisions on my balls as the nurses have already done it for him.

So after the bitches nurses cleaned up my two quarts of blood, they decided to make my day worse. It was now time for them to lather me up in iodine. Now they did not warn me prior to doing this, much like they didn’t warn me before shaving me. If you have never had some iodine on your balls let me tell you that it is fucking cold. Oh and it burned me where the bitches had cut me as well. I told the nurses that since my balls are so cold, that the surgery has to be called off because the doctor won’t be able to see them due to the shrinkage of them.

Shortly after the iodine bath, it was time for the doctor to come in and get started. Well I was lying down on the operating room table and restrained at my knees. I had asked the doctor to warn me before giving me the local shot on my balls as I don’t deal well with needles (as you have previously read on my blog). I had also asked the nurse who was sitting next to me to give me something to hold and squeeze, which she ignored me. The doctor did not warn me and stuck me with a needle in my left ball. I came off of the table about a foot and broke the restraints that were holding me down. The doctor let go of the syringe when I came off of the table and it was left to dangle in the wind with the Lidocane going in and out of my left ball. Lidocane burns like a mother fucker by the way in case you didn’t know. So I got back down on the table and let the doctor finish the injection of the local. He waited about 30 minutes and got started with the snipping. As I had the local, I really did not feel much. I could feel some tugging and pulling but there wasn’t any pain.

The doctor then warned me that he was about to do the local on the right ball. I had also been given a brand new roll of surgical tape to squeeze in my hand. The doctor put the needle in my ball and I crushed the roll of tape (3 inches in diameter) down to the size of a quarter. The nurse was like, “wow you really don’t like shots do you?” No shit lady. The doctor then waited about two minutes after giving me the local before he got started. With the left ball I felt nothing, well since he didn’t wait for the local to kick on the right one, I felt every second of the pain. He cut, tugged, pulled, and inflicted pain on me that no man has ever seen.

When the doctor had finished with the right ball, I thought I would be able to sleep a little bit. Nope, I was wrong. I was asked to put on the required jock strap that I had brought with me. They had wrapped my balls in gauze and I had to lift my ass up so that the nurses could slide me jock strap on. I then thought I would be able to get me some sleep. Nope, wrong again. Mr. Trash you have to sit up and walk to the recovery room. Are you fucking kidding me, I have to fucking walk after you just put me through hell? Yep I had to walk out of the operating room where I was greeted by a glass of grape juice. Is Welch’s the national drink of nut cutting ceremonies? The same bitches nurses had me walk to the lobby where they put me in a normal chair to wait on my ex-wife to come pick me up.

The ex picked me up and took me to Krogers so I could fill my prescription and get some frozen peas to place on my balls. Thankfully the doctor had taken pity on me and given me 50 of the largest size of Vicodin you can legally get. Which when I got home knocked me the fuck out. I woke up hours later with a bag of unfrozen peas on my balls which had caused me to be drenched in water from them thawing out. I tried to get up and walk to the bathroom to piss, but I fell on the floor next to my bed. Apparently when I had passed out, I did not have any swelling in my balls but I sure as fuck did when I woke up and couldn’t walk. I managed to get myself to the bathroom and sat on the throne and got my shorts down. I had forgotten that I had a jock strap on and struggled to pull it down. The poor gauze was still sticking to me, and I pulled it off while screaming in wretched pain. I was covered in blood and my balls were each the size of a softball. Now I know that is a visual thing for you the reader, so I will say it again. My balls were each the size of a softball in my jock strap.

I took some more meds and placed the frozen peas on my balls and rotated them on and off as they unfroze. I had a four day weekend and was hoping I could go back to work on Monday with no problems. I spent the whole weekend in bed watching re-runs of Family Guy and various other tv shows while munching on Vicodin religiously. I felt like an old ass man who lived in a nursing home as my brother had to wait on me hand and foot and bring me food and drinks.

Well I was told the swelling would go down in a couple of days. Yea right, with my luck? No I had trouble walking for two weeks as my balls were swollen for what seemed like forever. Did I mention to you that my balls were the size of softballs? I had even called the doctor and he just told me to take it easy as the swelling would eventually go down. Which two weeks later the swelling did go down, but it was painful to walk for a month. Never mind how painful it was when it came time to “drain the old pipes” as they put it. I mean if every time you masturbated for a month that it felt like someone was stabbing you when you cum, would you keep doing it to yourself? I didn’t think so.

Two months after I had been put through a medical malpractice experience, I had to go in for my check up to see if the catastrophe surgery had worked. Much to my surprise the surgery was a success in terms of not having any swimmers post cutting. I guess in hindsight it was worth it because if I ever settle down again with a female, I won’t have to rely on the pull out method ever again.

Now I know this story was pretty long, but you can’t shorten a nightmare comedic story like this. What an experience I had with my vasectomy. I was told at my follow up visit, that less than a 1 in a 1000 men have problems with their vasectomy. Well I guess I was the 1 in a 1000 because my experience was the stuff a horror movie is made of.