Just after the birth of my son, I decided it was time. I had avoided the “snip” for many, many years, but now I figured I was due. My wife being unable to take contraception for health reasons cemented the need for me to have the procedure. I can imagine that you ladies think this is nothing compared to child birth (rolls my eyes) but for a man it is a very big deal.

My wife being the CEO of the family quickly found a Doctor after I told her of my decision. The two of us went for the “consultation” a few weeks later. I thought seeing a billboard with two tennis balls on it, one of them with a band aid, advertising a vasectomy clinic was bad enough but hearing this Doctor rattle off with clinical ease how he was going to perform the procedure had me crossing my legs and looking at the ceiling the whole time.

My wife is not shy and asked the Doctor point blank “How long do we have to wait after the procedure to have sex?” I listened, thinking it was a good question.

“Well it varies, depending on how he feels and other factors but overall I would say right away, I just ask that you wait until you have left my offices first” Oh, a comedian on top of a Doctor, he must pull in huge dollars.

Before we left he did say “You don’t have to shave, we will take care of that”.

Fast forward two weeks and in we go, my wife is very supportive so she asked if she could sit in on the procedure. The Doctor carried right on with his stand up routine and said “No problem, the farm wives look on all the time”.

There I lay on his little 5 foot long bench hanging over the ends as I am 6’3, I proudly announced with a touch of my chin that I had not shaved as he directed. Well this really didn’t have any effect on the Doctor, but it did make my wife giggle. I began to doubt his comedic abilities.

“Can I sit down that end and watch” my wife said with way too much glee?

“Why of course, I don’t get asked that very often, but before we start, for liability purposes, I must ask you Ma’am do you recognize the patient?”  Hysterical laughter from below from both of them, I am not even smiling.

He then went into great verbal detail explaining the procedure to my wife, starting with the needle to numb things, it had to be about 4 feet long that needle, and my wife thoughtfully held my hand while he jabbed that sucker into the family jewels.

Once I came back down onto the short table, the numbing started to take effect. I felt like I was working outside in a Canadian winter again, things were that numb. I counted ceiling tiles, doing the 8 wide by 14 long and doing the math to get the total, then counting each one individually to double check. All the while I was listening in on their conversation, almost an out of body experience.

“I cut here, and pull this out, and here, can you hold this for me, yes, like that, great. Now I snip here and that’s it, he is neutered” snickers from below as my count continues.

“Now we need to cauterize the wound” I thought that if that numbing isn’t working I will find out about it any moment now.

“How neat” my wife exclaims “look at that just melting together” as the smell of burning flesh, my burning flesh, fills the room.

“Now I need to sew up the wound, but first we have to do an instrument count, make sure we didn’t leave anything in there”

Oh I see, the Doctor does have a sense of humor when he cracks the jokes. I make a mental note to tell him that 3 of his ceiling tiles are filthy.

“Ok all stitched up, before he sits up I need to toss all these bloody cotton swabs away” more laughter from below, they are having a great time, I am so happy for them.

Sitting me up, the room a bit lighter than it was when I came in, he then tells me the best part about having the procedure.

“You will need to keep them completely on ice for at least 24 hours”. Oh that’s no problem I figured, they are already numb. My wife and I stand at the counter, giving the receptionist the co-pay and the young thing just smiles at me with that all knowing look of “boy I bet he is hurting”.

Walking to the door, I turn and say to the receptionist, “tell the Doctor his ceiling is filthy” I walk out with a smug look on my face.