This blog is not about my vasectomy
I’ve decided I’m not going to write about my vasectomy. Although my vasectomy is fertile soil for comedic musings, it would be unwise to dedicate an entire blog to such a crass subject. Lowbrow readers might clamor for some inappropriate commentary, however, I refuse to provide even a snippet of salacious reporting.
Frankly, my cutting edge compositions are not worthy of such unseemly prose. Therefore, I will do my best to clamp down on my propensity to numb the intellectual acuity of my readership. Today’s blog will make absolutely no mention of my entrance into the world of permanent male birth control, even though the slightest mention of the more nuanced details of my elective procedure would certainly have some readers in stitches.
In a totally unrelated matter, I have found that my level of anxiety increases congruently with the amount of times friends comfort me with the phrase, “Don’t worry, it’s no big deal!” It seems if something is really “no big deal” it would pass with minimal observation. Conversely, if something “is a big deal” it usually attracts a fair amount of discussion. Having your closest acquaintances endlessly assure you, “not to worry” can make “no big deal” feel somewhat mislabeled.
Fortunately, even for the most benign procedure, there is always one person out there waiting to tell you a horror story that will give every one of your medical fears merit. Even if the procedure is 99.5% effective, you’re going to run into Mr. Less than one percent effective. Make no mistake about it, he will take at least two different occasions to describe to you his grueling ordeal. “Why yes, I actually remember you telling me about that. Yah, it was rather hard to forget. . . Alright if you must, but I pretty much remember the first time you told me.”
As a general rule, I don’t appreciate detailed reports concerning my future discomfort. Please don’t tell me that the needle is smaller than I think, the sting is less than I would imagine, and the discomfort is really only minimal. I’ll be the judge of such things! And for the love of all that’s rational, please don’t put pain management in my hands. “Tell me if this hurts.”
“Tell me if this hurts!” Isn’t that your job? Isn’t there some sort of “I spent ten years in med school” tool to make sure I’m not going to feel any pain? I don’t want that kind of responsibility. You don’t ask me if the incision looks right, or if the stitches are well sewn. Then why would you entrust me with determining the proper amount of numbing agent. Don’t you think after a few thousand procedures, you’d have that one down. Unless you’re asking me to tell you “if this hurts” because hurting is a common complication.
Again, these are matters totally unrelated to my vasectomy. To spend an entire blog on my vasectomy would be nothing short of unproductive. Also, I have to admit that I’ve exaggerated a bit. If you are going to have a vasectomy it is really nothing to worry about. In fact it’s no big deal. Honest! Although I did hear about this one guy who had a very troubling . . . .