For those of you following this blog (if you can call it following, as my postings are very sporadic) know that my writing 'itch' comes and goes. Well, it popped up again so here's another post.
After the birth of our second child we decided that two is enough. Even though number two came into the world with surgical assistance we did not opt for fixing mom while she lay on the operating table. Instead, we chose the male fix.
Some male readers may think that 'we' actually meant 'she' but I am really OK with it. I also know that some male readers will cringe at the thought of having something really, really sharp stuck between their legs but I guess it is a matter of trust between you and your doctor. And I had a good (male) doctor. I'm not even sure if there are any female doctors that perform this procedure. No,
Lorena Bobbit was not a doctor.
I waited until about six months after the birth to make the appointment for the initial interview and exam with the doctor. This was a more or less pragmatic approach allowing the baby to get through the first few critical months of life. As no disaster struck (and we were also very busy moving to our new home during these months) I called the doctor's office by the end of November of 2005.
The initial visit is an interview with the doctor. Most of the questions revolve about the central theme of 'Are you sure you want to do this?'. At my age and with two healthy kids there was no doubt in my mind. So the doctor went on to do a quick exam of the area in question to see if there was anything preventing surgery.
I don't know if it is common practice but this particular doctor,
Addison Wilson, prescribed a single shot of
Valium for me to take one hour before the operation. This was to prevent any involuntary muscle contractions that could affect the procedure.
We scheduled the date of the operation to be on a Friday afternoon in the middle of December. Initially, I thought of driving myself, but my boss who had undergone the same procedure years ago told me that some clinics do not recommend this as one's reaction speed during the trip home may be slower than normal with the risk of traffic accidents. So on the day in question I drove home, took my Valium and was driven to the clinic.
This doctor uses the single incision technique in which a centrally located cut is used to access both the left and right
vas deferens instead of one incision for each vas individually.
After the nurse saw me into the operating room and I stripped and laid on the table the doctor prepped the work area and started by injecting a nerve block straight through the scrotum into the left and right nerve. In effect, I pretty much lost all sensation in my legs. A funny detail was that when he injected the left side my left toes started to jitter a bit.
With a small scissor like instrument a little hole was cut in the center of the scrotum near the base of the penis and with a small pincher tool the right vas was pulled out. There was very little blood involved in this procedure. Next the doctor removed a quarter inch (6 mm) section of the vas and singed the parts that stayed behind with a soldering iron like tool. In similar fashion the left side was treated and the little hole in the scrotum was sewn up and I was sent on my merry way.
It was a good thing that I didn't drive myself as on the way home I was wide awake one moment and next thing I know we pull into the driveway at home. Out like a light switch comes to mind.
I went straight to bed and woke up a couple hours later with an urge to use the bathroom and an incredible pain between my legs. So much so that I doubled over on the floor and was sure to do some serious puking. This sensation subsided within a couple of minutes and I could go about my business normally.
The doctor had warned me that the feeling after the operation would resemble the aftermath of a bad kick in the nuts. And sure enough, it did. But after those five minutes I was just fine and never even went to fill the prescription for some serious pain killers the doctor had given me. An ice pack and some rest (limited use of the stairs and no heavy lifting) was all it took and within a week there was only a slight throbbing in the left nerve under certain conditions.
As it is, sperm cells can stay in the body for many weeks so in order to flush them out of the system and get a meaningful sperm count a minimum of 20 to 25 ejaculations are required between the operation and the lab test. So my wife and I had a very busy schedule the next couple of weeks....
Getting the lab test done was a story in itself. A near comedy of errors as the clinic staff had hardly a clue what to do or what information to give. According to the printed material the sperm sample had to be delivered to the clinic within the hour, a time frame that I could guarantee to make given that we live quite a ways away from the clinic.
When I told the lab staff, they mentioned that they had a room for such occasions. So I opted to go in and take a sample at the clinic. Alas, the special room was just a regular hospital bath room with absolutely no conducive 'atmosphere' to get the job done. So I asked one the lab technicians if they had some 'stimulating' material. This caused a slight panic in the lab as they scrambled to find some magazine that could help out. One of the women pointed at a shelf that held a
Us Weekly and said in a helpful voice "Paris Hilton is in there." If you know who
Paris Hilton is you can understand that I could live to be a hundred and never forget this quote.
I politely declined this offer and said that Miss Hilton was not going to do it for me so I was sent to the downtown lab where they were better equipped for these kinds of situations. Nothing could be farther from the truth as I found out after arriving downtown. The receptionist there sounded slightly offended even that I would bring up such a delicate matter and bluntly stated that I had been told wrong.
In the end I managed to take the sample at home and get it to the lab in time. Unfortunately, I have persistent swimmers so this whole circus had to be repeated a couple of weeks later. I was given a new cup (with a label that included all my information), stuck in a plain brown paper bag (also with a label) and accompanied by document with my information.
I turned the sample in on Tuesday and on Thursday received a call from the lab that they had LOST my sample. Lost, mind you! Obviously I didn't take this very quietly and when I went in again to pick up yet another cup just about everyone I talked to in the lab apologized profusely.
The next day I submitted yet another sample and a couple of days later we got the 'All Clear' call. Now that this whole thing is behind us we can laugh about it, but the lab test was most definitely the most painful aspect of the whole procedure. It's a good thing they didn't charge me for the lab work.
