I was having a call with my friend Mike, someone I’ve known close to what…twenty years now. When in Quarantine, you start having more and more actual phone calls with friends you haven’t been actively talking to in recent years. Seriously people, nurture your friendships. It’s a lesson I’m learning more and more through this COVID-19 bullshit.
That said, it was through one of our talks that Mike informed me that he’d had a vasectomy a few years back. My curiosity was piqued and I realized I haven’t ever heard the details of a vasectomy. In my quest to be educated (men’s health is important too!) and due to Mike’s enthusiasm and colorful details, I thought “why not turn this humorous account into a tale of hilarity for PopLurker readers to enjoy?”
And alas, here we are.
Over the years, I’ve only heard about men’s fears of having a vasectomy. But with Mike’s unbridled support behind the operation, I thought his perspective was a unique and funny take on a mild outpatient procedure, and one that deserved sharing.
“The reason why I tell this story is because I literally try to convince every dude I know into getting one. Every dude should have a vasectomy,” Mike told me over the phone. “That shit was so positive and warm and welcoming that I would do it again without question – it’s totally not an issue.”
All right, you have our attention Mike. Please, share the story of your scrotal snip with PopLurker readers!
Mike: Me and my wife have been together for 10 years, and we figured out 3 years into it that neither of us is interested in having kids. Growing up, I thought I wanted to have kids, but once I was in that long term committed relationship, we realized that the lifestyle we enjoyed together wasn’t one we wanted to share with children. We really like traveling and honestly, focusing on each other. And we decided that if we wanted to have kids one day, that we would adopt. My wife is adopted, and so it’s a topic that is very near and dear to us. Therefore, the conversation of how to permanently prevent pregnancy started coming up.
My wife was talking about getting her tubes tied, and I thought that was crazy because it’s such a big and invasive surgery. I told her I would go for the vasectomy instead because it was such a quick procedure. My wife had the details wrong in her head and kept thinking that a vasectomy was this severe removal of my equipment, or that my balls would fall off. I explained to her that on the contrary, a woman tying her tubes was a huge deal because not only is it, like I said, invasive, but she could have an ectopic pregnancy afterward which as we know, can be fatal. It took a minute for her to budge on the idea, but after a pregnancy scare of our own, my wife finally came around to the idea of a vasectomy.
I started searching around to see where the best place to get it done. But like a blessed miracle from the comedy gods, I stumbled upon Doctor Hyman — the name was too delicious – and I knew he was the doctor for me. We had a phone call, I got to ask my vasectomy related questions, and he assured me it was a quick and easy procedure. We had a consultation and the man was a dream—super nice guy and down to earth. He asked about how long I was married, wanted to know if we wanted kids, all of the obligatory questions a doctor needs to ask before lopping through the jizz-tubes. I informed him that biological children just weren’t in the cards.
I asked him about the outpatient procedure for the pain, and if it would hurt. He basically told me that during the vasectomy, I’d be fine. It was the aftermath where the pain would come. He described the process, the size of the incision what he disconnects and reconnects, burns off, and so on. I also got to learn that I would have to ejaculate about 25 times (in a condom if having sex with my wife or down the drain if jerking in the shower or something) before I was officially shooting blanks. I was surprised to learn how much sperm just stayed stuffed up into those tubes! He told me to come back in a week for the vasectomy, and that we’d call in for some Xanex and light pain medication like some 600mg Motrin type of thing. The only caveat here was that Dr. Hyman insisted that I couldn’t drive afterward, so I would need to bring someone to take me home.
I had my male best friend drive me to the office so I wouldn’t have to drive operate a car post-snip. We get there, I check in, my best friend straight up whips out a Highlights magazine and gets ready to indulge in the next chapter of “Goofus and Gallant” or whatever the fuck. And with that, I head into my room. You know how typically, when you have to put on a medical gown the back is open? Well, this one is full frontal, baby. I was all undressed, ready, and truthfully, I was feeling pretty calm. That is until the nurses came in. She asked if I remembered to take my Xanex. I told her no, I hadn’t. That’s when she started freaking out.
“Why didn’t you take your Xanex?!” she screamed “You need to take your Xanex so you don’t panic during the procedure!” And I’m like, “Lady, you’re making me panic!”
By now, I was wondering if this preemptive need to stuff Xanex in my gullet had a medical reason behind it other than the clear hysteria not taking it was causing the staff. Meanwhile, while this is going on, Dr. Hyman explodes through the door like Kramer from Seinfeld. Within a second of arriving in the room, he starts exclaiming “Oh my god, you didn’t take the Xanex, you’re going to be an anxious, nervous wreck during the vasectomy!”
With a final breath, I repeated, “I’m not nervous. You guys are making me nervous. I’m ready to go. Let’s fuck this pig!” And with those words, I laid down on the table and was ready for action. While I lay there on the table, Dr. Hyman wheels in a machine which I am assuming is the Laser Ball Blaster, though it could have made cappuccinos for all I know. I asked if I was going to be put out for this procedure.
“Nope,” replied the Doc. “You’ll be awake the whole time.”
I shrugged and started glancing at the surgeon’s tray to his side while he’s sprays at icy blast of canned air all over my genital situation. There on the tray were three syringes. Dr. Hyman applies some local anesthesia, I felt a prick by my prick, and boom, it was numb. He said I would feel a pinch and a flood of warmth, which I did, but then I felt nothing. He poked at my sack, and said “Can you feel that? Can you feel that?” but all I felt after that flood of warmth was the flooding of shame generated by the scenario at hand.
Once he’s sure I feel nothing (minus said shame), he begins his process. He pulls out what looks like a dentist drill with a hose on it. There’s a piece of paper on my junkular region with a little window, just the perfect size for my balls to stick out. A nurse practitioner comes in and masterfully shaves my balls with speed and expertise that I wish I could replicate at home. During all of this, I’m completely lucid and I started shooting the shit with the doctor. He was telling me he did a YouTube video with the where he performed a Bro-Sectomy on camera for the two hosts of the channel.
This is all happening very quickly, mind you, and the only thing that I really noticed was a distinct burning skin smell. Before I could ask what it was, I realized was the skin of my balls, and then I felt some distant tugging. I was never uncomfortable or in pain, but just that tingling feeling you get from some sleeping appendage being touched, like when your foot is asleep. The doctor finished his work, put everything back inside, sealed me up with his Lightsaber, and then discussed how I would need to wear a ball brace (technically known as a Suspensory Scrotal Support) for the next week.
The only way to describe this thing is that it was the shittiest color of off white I’ve ever seen. Whatever color your first training bra was or a 1940s granny bra, that’s the color it was brand new out of the box. Like IBM Keyboard Tan. Dr. Hyman cinches me up in this Borat ball bra with just my dick sticking out, like crotchless panties for my cock. Then there’s some garters that go up to my mid-section, wrap up to my chest, and then some shoulder straps that go over for good measure. I’m not even kidding, this is literally a bra for my nuts. It’s so overly engineered; I was dying with amusement just getting this thing on.
When I looked in the mirror to see this garter strapped on me, I looked like the worst Hellraiser cosplay ever. It seriously looked like some sort of terrible fetish device. But then, the doctor said “you’re all done, you can go home!”. I looked at the clock and only 15 minutes had passed. From entry, to nurse freak-outs, to Dr Hyman busting a Kramer, to the burning flesh, to the ball bra, it was 15 minutes. I was elated. I had zero pain whatsoever.
I excused myself and walked out to my friend, who was still reading the Highlights magazine with riveting enthusiasm. He glanced up at me and asked if I’d forgotten something. But I hadn’t, it was just over that quickly!
“Fuck Goofus and Gallant”, I declared. “We’re done!”
My buddy took me home and I spent the rest of the day in bed eating Pirate’s Booty and watching Return of the Jedi, smiling gleefully that The Emperor’s forehead was vaguely reminding me of my own balls. One month later, I went back to Dr. Hyman’s office and dropped a dick load into a cup. He examined it and officially declared that there was no sperm count and I was officially sterile. A life of protection free sex with my wife now awaited me.
So, you’ve recounted the procedure. Tell us a little bit about recovery.
Mike: Oh, that’s easy. Don’t lift weights or anything heavy. Don’t have sex for at least a week. Don’t do anything that causes you to do a lifting motion or thrusting motion. All I wanted was for my balls not to escape their bra-brace enclosed safety prison like some sort of explosive squib. That was the only part that worried me.
What would you say to men who are inherently afraid of vasectomies without having the facts?
Mike: The process used to be really invasive and I think men are still afraid of this stigma. They think it’ll be someone tearing you open and literally tying your dick tubes shut. It’s all done with lasers now and is so quick and clean. There’s almost no blood either- I’ve had more blood on the sheet after a trip to the dentist. I also think a lot of men tie their sexuality to their virility. Like the idea of being able to pump women full of sperm and make people makes them more of a man. I’m telling you, when you have a vasectomy, nothing is being taken away from you.
But I will say this– one of the things my doctor told me is that vasectomies aren’t as reversible as their reputation precedes. Your chances of getting someone pregnant after you reverse one is slim to none. It’s like smashing your plumbing with a baseball bat and expecting your massive shits to snake through those crushed pipes. It’s not exactly going to work. You can get pregnant again, but if you’re going to get a vasectomy, go into it thinking it is permanent. It’s not a casual thing you get over the summer so you can have carefree sex. If you reverse it, your chances of being able to get someone pregnant are vastly reduced. That doesn’t mean you can’t produce sperm with a reversal—it could happen. And because you’re producing sperm again, In Vitro is an option.
Hell, even now with a vasectomy, my body produces sperm, but they’re like dying goldfish in an enclosed ecosystem. They’re not going anywhere. Another stigma is when guys think that if they get snipped, you’re like a dog and won’t produce testosterone or other hormones. All that happens in a vasectomy is that you shoot blanks. Nothing is removed and you’re still producing all the male hormones your body needs to stay awesome.
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