Such tender support

As if my wife wasn’t already uncomfortable enough with this vasectomy blog.

Last Friday, the good folks of WordPress were kind enough to share the chronicling of my family cockles. So, over the past few days I’ve been introduced to many, many new friends who share a flattering interest with what’s fluttering around in my pantaloons. Come on in, everybody – join the fun.

brazilian_testicle_mascot_1I should probably get those dimples checked out.

At this point, I guess it would be prudent to offer a quick summary of my sensitive, saggy little story so far. Sure, you could always go back and read all the previous entries, but who wants to do all that clicking? That’s a finger cramp waiting to happen. I’ll piddle through some key points and include a few links to the more crucial moments.

I have sired offspring twice.
I have attempted to do this zero times.
I love what happened.
But I don’t want it to happen again.

[time, money, messy, fussy, unbridled and unfettered stress-free, guilt-free and spermicidally stink-free, etc.]

I did some research. I made some phone calls. And then made the decision.

Ballogy 101
If you clicked the above link, you should now be an ejaculation expert. Perhaps even obnoxiously so. If not, in a nutshell we learned that men are packing ridiculous amounts of sperm. Among other things.

What to Expect When You’re Vasecting
This is the day before surgery. The primer. It should serve as a nice, generous coating of warming gel for anyone slathering on the shaving cream and preparing themselves for the procedure.

Friday, The Snipteenth
The big day. Get yourself puckered up for a frank, juicy play-by-play of what goes down when your pants go down. The shots, the cuts, the snips, the clips and the crazy dude in the waiting room.

Ow, My Balls
The aftermath. This is what a good fella can expect during the days immediately following getting jabbed in the junk with a big needle and a pair of scissors. It’s not as bad as you might think.

tumblr_mu7dirlkkB1qzg45so1_1280Try to avoid strenuous activities.

So now what? I’ve had bruising and scabbing and healing and feelings of guilt and freedom and frustration. There have been stitches and itches and whispers and whiskers – and I’ve had to explain it all to my darling, wonderful, precious accidental children.

Now it’s time to finish the job. Ultimately, I have a couple of months until my appointment to produce a spermless sample for the lab. And then do it again two weeks later. The doctor says it’s no easy task to overcome the healing process, to intellectually accept what has just happened, and to clear out hundreds of billions of potential ovarian suitors. It’s going to require a lot of time and effort and emotional fortitude.

And tissues.

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Undercarriage Update

It’s been almost two weeks since my vasectomy. I’ve had a man tape my manhood to my stomach and stick a needle into my scared, shorn scrotum and cut it open. I’ve had another two injections inside my testicular tote-bag, and then my vas deferens tubes pulled out and cut to bits. And then, after receiving stitches on my already sensitive cinch sack, I waddled around bruised and sore, terrified by the mere thought of gravity itself. But now, I must endure the most severe pain yet.

Nut stubble.

The beginning of the process involved me shaving my nethers. This was my first time to ever attempt such a sheering, and I miraculously came out unscathed. But nobody warned me about this part.

4659080239_de147e65de_zPicture these in your pants.

I am constantly being poked and pricked on the inside of my legs and the under-side of my tender tallywacker. It doesn’t matter the underwear. It doesn’t matter the position. I think it’s just their angry little way of exacting revenge on me for relieving them of their fertilizing purposes.

Other than that, here’s the two-week checklist.

– The dull pain moved around a bit. It kinda travelled from way down deep in the scrotal south, up through the spermidial ship channel to belly-button harbor, and then back down to just under the belt buckle – slowly dissipating along the way. Now it’s gone.

– The bruising went for a walkabout as well. It changed colors as it moved around the globes and even managed to invade the base of my business. It’s not completely back to normal, but it no longer looks like Wes Craven shot a movie in my shorts.

– The stitch is looking better. At about the end of the first week, I was able to take the Dora-The-Explorer band-aid off my balls. Now, the scab has been falling away, and the stitch is starting to dissolve. That’s good and all, but it itches. Itches big time. I got itches in my britches.

902797_1324042691509_fullSometimes I make the sound, too.

Now that the pain has subsided, I can move on to the next phase of my medical instructions. I have a follow-up appointment in 8 weeks. And I have lots to do before then. Lots and lots to do. You see, I’m supposed to bring a sample to that appointment.

Yes. That kind of sample.

You know what time it is. It’s time to do some stretching exercises and take the SafeSearch off my internet browser. It’s go time. Because the doctor isn’t interested in the very first sample I produce.

He wants to see the eighty-first.

What to expect when you’re vasecting.

As the big day for my bloomers looms, I’d say it’s good practice to know what the future holds for one’s cajones. After all, when it comes to my berries, I’m not really a big fan of the word, “Surprise!” Nor “oops,” nor “uh-oh” nor “say, what’s that bumpy thing?” for that matter.

So, the plan is to have a plan. Luckily for me, I have a wonderful wife who is eager to help.

IMG_4644Pink? Really?

There are a number of things that I know are going to happen to me on V-Day. Some of these things I can control, and some of these things will be in the hands of my doctor. Literally. And I mean literally in the literal sense – not in that figuratively literal way.

1. I will get an injection in my ball bag.
2. I will get an incision in my ball bag.
3. I will get an injection in the vicinity of my left gonad.
4. I will get an injection in the vicinity of my right gonad.
5. There will be scissors.
6. There will be clamps.
7. There will be stitches.
8. There will be soreness.
9. There will be swelling.
10. There will be peas for dinner.

Let’s start with steps 1-2. Injection and Incision. These are things I would prefer go well, so I want to make it as easy on the wielder of the cutlery as possible. Hence, I shall arrive shorn.

britney-spears-shaved-headWhat could possible go wrong?

“Thank you for calling 98.7 WBALLS – who do I have on the line?” – “Kyle Colby Jones here. Long-time admirer, first-time shaver.” Okay, so I’ve never taken a razor to my poor, gentle genitalia before. And I’ve always used an electric razor for my face. Now, I’ve been told that would be an awful choice for a rather wrinkly and highly snaggable surface. So, a blade it is.

After my barber refused and told me to never come back again, I was forced to seek out the advice of my friends. And I got lots. I honestly had no idea how much of the world was walking around all smooth and shiny. Some basics: Start with a beard trimmer. (Turns out that kinda tickles, by the way.) Do it in the shower. Employ downward strokes.

I was also delightfully shocked to discover that some folks had even created names for their own personal man-sculpting methods. The Butterfly Technique. The Spread N’ Shed. The Bat-Wing. Nonetheless, I got it done. Accident free.

Steps 3-7. Snipping & Stitching. The only thing I can really do at this point is be absolutely still. No sudden movements. For this, I am hoping to be frozen with fear.

Steps 8-9. Pain & Swelling. Frozen peas, a soft chair and prescription pain killers will be at the ready. And the kids will be at the ready to fetch dear old dad any other provisions he may need. (Psst. It rhymes with beer.)

Step 10. Dinner. I might also try mashing some potatoes.

Alright. I’m set. Everything should be okay. As long as the good doctor remembers to trim his nails.

And if he doesn’t, then he’s invited to dinner.