THE BIG SNIPPER

by Steve Clem on January 13, 2011

CONTENT WARNING: This blog entry contains material that is not appropriate for non-mature readers. Contains adult language, nudity, and mild sexual parts language.

About two years after Gman, my youngest mini-me blessing, arrived, I decided it was time to get the big snip. The big road block. The big V. Vas-ect-o-my.

Mind you I wasn’t thrilled about it. Had some doubts. But I did it.

I still remember how scared shitless I was before I had the pre-procedure appointment with my doctor.

It didn’t help that the doctor’s name made me giggle. He was from India, and if I remember correctly his last name was Jakkuhav, which when he pronounced it sounded like “jack you off.” I know, I know, I’m still in 7th grade mentally.

Anyway, during the pre-procedure consult, Dr. Jakkuhav tried to use a metaphor to explain the procedure. “A vasectomy is like cooking a chicken,” he said with a big grin and thick Indian accent. “Sometimes it’s really good, and sometimes it gets burned.”

So THAT’s why they told me to buy a bunch of bags of frozen peas for after the procedure!

The night before the procedure, I was a nervous wreck. I’d already done the manscaping they requested, and as I found out the next morning, “and then some!!!”

I had talked to my relatives and friends who had vasectomies to ask for thoughts on how bad it would be. The best advice came from my brother, Jim. “It feels like you got kicked in the nuts for a couple days.” Ok, I can live with that!

The next morning, as Dr. Jakkuhav was preparing things, the nurse brought me back to the room where I’d be giving up my manhood. Turns out this nurse, who was pretty attractive, I’ll admit, was going to be assisting the doctor, and this was her first vasectomy.

So as I laid down and they prepped me (they essentially tape certain things out of the way so they don’t accidentally have a lawsuit for giving a bonus circumcision), I realized it was going to be a longer procedure than normal.

The cute nurse was asking a lot of questions of Dr. Jakkuhav because she wanted to learn what he was doing, and what her role was to be.

As they injected the local anesthetic, I realized that local as really local.

The attractive nurse decided to keep her free hand resting on top of my “taped part” during the entire procedure, which was very much NOT part of the local anesthetic.

Let’s just say there is something very demeaning about having an attractive woman touching your taped part while you are having your manhood snipped away from you and cauterized with a laser. And I’m going to leave it at that.

I confess that the next 2 days were pretty nice, though. Between the painkillers and the tons of frozen peas used on my chicken, and the football games and requirement to not do strenuous activity (no honey-do list for me!), it wasn’t too shabby, really.

And please allow me to offer some final advice to the men who complain about having to get a vasectomy.

First, if you’ve witnessed the birth of your child/children, then you know that the pain won’t be anything close to that. So don’t talk about your pain fears in front of mothers.

Second, call ahead and request either a male nurse, or an unattractive one.

And pray to God your doctor’s name isn’t Dr. Kutyernutz.

* * * *

Steve Clem originally published this piece on the blog A Prisoner in the Tundra.

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