Patrick Says

The day before the big vasectomy, they tell you to shave the boys for the procedure. I had lost the original sheet with the instructions, so I called the doctor’s office and they faxed it over again. I read the section about shaving the scrotum.

It was two lines long…

I think somewhere there should be a law that if something involves your balls and a sharp blade, it should be mandatory to be at least a good-sized paragraph. Not this time. Soap them up and shave with a safety razor. The end.

I didn’t want to go in and get chastised for not doing my part, so I gave it the old college try. Now I’m a large man. I’m pushing 235 lbs and well, fat. So it’s not exactly easy to get a good look in that area. So I had this genius idea to get a mirror and set it below to see the area better. This was bad for a couple reasons:

• I don’t know if any of you have looked at your nether regions, but when you put a mirror down there, you get the full show. And it’s not pretty. At first, I didn’t recognize anything. I thought maybe the mirror was a portal to some far away land. Then I made out a shape and I was jarred back to reality. And in this case, reality was a fat man standing over a mirror. And reality hurt.
• The other problem you run into is that everything in the mirror is reversed. But we’ll get to that shortly…

At this point, I thought the soaping method they mentioned would just make everything stick together, so I skipped that step and went right into shaving. Now, I’ve never had a reason to shave my testes until now, so there was ’some accumulation’ of hair. God, I would be really surprised if anyone at all is still reading this blog entry. If you’ve left, you’re really gonna miss the good parts.

I figure I’ll use my beard trimmer to trim the area before I take the razor to it. I make the first pass and everything is good. I make the second pass and because of the reversed image, I nick the leftie. Although I can’t prove it, my head hit the ceiling as I screamed out. After landing, I decide to be the big trooper and press on. I go to grab the boys for another pass and feel liquid. I bring my hand up and there’s red. Oh god. I’ve just cut my balls and I’m going to die now. They’re going to find me dead on my bathroom floor with my pants around my ankles and a mirror covered in hair. My wife won’t show up to the funeral from sheer embarrassment.

When I don’t pass out, I figure I’m not going to die. I check the mirror and survey the damage. Turns out it was just a small cut. But I’m not touching a damn thing down there with any sharp objects. The doctor will just have to do it himself. I put my pants on and went to bed…

(to be continued)

Possibly related posts:

1. Goodbye, Vas: Part 2…
2. Baggy Pants…

This entry was posted on Friday, February 16th, 2007 at 6:09 am and is filed under Randomness. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.