“Nothing but good news….
There is a frog in South America whose venom is a cure
For all the suffering that mankind must endure
More powerful than morphine, and soothing as the rain
A frog in South America has the antidote for pain
That’s the way it’s always been, and that’s the way I like it….”
–From Senorita With a Necklace of Tears, by Paul Simon
Alright, so I’ve learned a few things since my little procedure. One of those things is that I don’t type well while taking Percocet. The combination of terrible spelling skills, snail-like typing abilities, and a debilitating case of undiagnosed ADD are usually enough of an obstacle for me to overcome in publishing this blog, but add to that a pretty intense narcotic, and it would take absolutely herculean blogging skills to get this baby done. Luckily, I am up to the challenge. Apparently, I blog with my heart, and not with any other part of my anatomy to which a connection has been recently severed.
Another thing I’ve learned is that women LOVE to pick this time in a man’s life to talk about how much pain there is during child birth. You know what? We get it. No one is arguing that a couple of incisions in a man’s sack is anything close to the pain of pushing a football-sized kid through a golfball-sized hole. I watched all three of my kids being born, and to say that it looked painful would be a really big understatement–Like saying that Rick Perry looks like a moron every time he speaks. But here’s the thing: Women are designed to handle pain in that part of their bodies. They spend most of their lives kind of “prepping” for it; whereas guy spend their WHOLE LIVES trying to avoid pain in that area. From the very first experience that a boy has with getting hit in the nuts, the lesson is deeply ingrained in his very being–DON’T EVER LET ANYTHING LIKE THAT HAPPEN EVER AGAIN. EVER.
Then, next thing you know, you’re sitting on a table with your legs in stirrups and a giant light shining on your crotch, while a stranger checks the job you did shaving and washes your junk. Then, to top it all off, I had to make my way to the doctor’s office to get prepped for my vasectomy! I kid…. It’s definitely weird, though–the whole “Nice to meet you. Please drop your pants and let me check how well you shaved” thing. I did fine, by the way. I didn’t want any nicks, so I just dipped everything in Nair (When I told the nurse that joke, she didn’t laugh either. I figured she just didn’t find me funny, but she explained that it wouldn’t surprise her at all).
I heard it through the vasectomy grapevine (A less successful version of the classic Motown hit) that Dr. Concepcion had performed his own vasectomy, so during the surgery I asked him if it was true. Turns out it is an urban myth. He said that one of his partners did his own, but for some reason it has been attributed to him. I told him that it was probably due to the fame his last name affords him. He asked me to use my significant blogging influence (He’s a big fan of the blog) to put these rumors to rest. So there you go.
All in all, everything went really well. I didn’t have any Valium, but the wife still gave me a ride home. The part that hurt most was the giant needle going in and poking around to numb things up. The whole procedure only took about ten minutes. He even showed me the section of the vas deferens that he removed–I guess to ease my mind that he was just faking it. The recovery process has been slow, and things are a little more sore today than yesterday. I’m not sure if things are bruised or if it is frostbite, but I’ve got everything I need to heal up the right way: A real nice jock strap, Two bags of peas, Prescription narcotics, and a wife who loves me enough to refrain from calling me a sissy for not being able to handle the pain.
This is Lucy, Mona’s daughter. I read this and now I am deeply traumatized.
Let this be a lesson to you, Lucy: If you are easily traumatized, stay away from my blog.
Since I’m sure most people are being supportive during this time… and I essentially have no social tact or friends, allow me to share some of my vasectomy tale.
Within two days, I had an infection in my right testicle. There is nothing that is analogous to this sort of pain. I would rather have been mauled by a puma, but that was not an option my insurance company would pay for.
Next (over a four year period) came post-vasectomy pain syndrome. Pretty much the slightest touch (including walking while wearing underwear) felt like a baseball to the nuts. Not pleasant.
Finally, seven years later, I had an epidimectomy removing the right epidimous. Now life is good.
Just consider this to be like one of those weight loss commercials where the small print says: Travis’ results are not typical. Most individuals are fine within a week.
The second section of your comment made mr laugh for about 6-8 minutes.
*made ME laugh
Mr. Laugh is what I call myself when I’m on pain meds….
I was hoping that’s what you meant. Otherwise we were getting too close too quickly if you were sharing pet names for body parts.
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