Today I got a vasectomy. The experience was a weird one because as usual I was far more preoccupied with my conformity or lack thereof with social expectations instead of the actual business at hand. When I fly I am not afraid of the plane crashing but I can't sleep because I am worried about missing the flight. It turns out that when I am getting a vasectomy I am not worried about the knife but rather whether or not I should have shaved my own scrotum ahead of time or not.
I didn't, it turns out, because the doctor told me that no preparation was necessary. The doctor and nurse talked about it a bit but in kind of an oblique way so I still don't know if they expected it or not. Normally when you get into a situation where you may have screwed up and not done what you are supposed to do it resolves itself and at least you know better for next time... but not here. Of course I don't expect to *need* this information later on but it would feel good to actually have the answer.
Wendy and Elli appear to be having much more of a reaction to it that I am. I think the finality of not having more children hadn't really settled in for Wendy yet and that change is something that needs to work its way through. Elli unfortunately desperately wants siblings that she isn't going to get so this whole situation is really stressful for her. There is a lot of pressure to be a normal family and have two kids in our society and that really trickles down to nearly everyone. Both of them seem to have that sense that there is something wrong, that we don't yet have a sufficient number of children in the house. I don't have that in me anywhere as far as I can tell. I would be perfectly content with zero kids but one is also fine. More... not so much.
It was really strange to sit there knowing my very delicate parts were being neatly sliced in twain and being able to feel the tug and poke but not actually having any sensation of pain. I guess doctors get used to the whole separation of pain and damage but it felt very weird to me. There are plenty of horror stories of men being in incredible pain and spending days on the sofa with ice on their genitals after a vasectomy but I guess I am really lucky since it has been less of a hassle than a mild headache. Maybe some of that is due to me being totally blase about the whole thing; I am sure that having an existential crisis while dealing with pain can't make things any easier.
Also, why do they provide a privacy curtain and leave the room so I can change? You are planning on operating on my genitals while I wear a backless gown! What could I possibly have left to hide?