Saturday, May 1, 2010

Our Second Child

I'm surprised how often I get asked "When you gonna have another one?" I'm usually eating lunch, or having a beverage with friends, so I usually reply,

"As soon as I'm thirsty again, maybe a little earlier."

But I know what they're asking. They want to know when Courtney and I are going to have another Baby. More specifically, Courtney. She does the having, I do half of the making.

And I might as well go ahead and say on this blog, we're not having another one. We may adopt, but we won't be biologically making another baby. Courtney wants to birth another baby about like she wants to run a marathon, and I want to go through the whole pregnancy/infant/pay for childbirth experience again about the same amount as I want to watch reality TV.

Quick defense of our actions as if I care what people out there in Internet land think of our in-home decisions: we're both only children, like it, would be excited to adopt if we changed our minds, love that other people have multiple kids, and do not plan to spoil Berkley into thinking he's any more special than other kids. Thank you.

So, to solidify this plan, I have had a vasectomy. Now, I'll explain how THAT little jewel of a procedure went.

First, we had to decide to have a vasectomy. And by we, I mean I. Just like Courtney has the baby, I have the snip snip. She isn't even in the room. But we talked it over and decided a lifetime of birth control wasn't worth a 15 minute operation and 2 day recovery. So, I signed up over at Forsyth Urology for a vasectomy.

Of course, since Google exists, I did a little research. I found out there are a few different methods, but then I realized my doc was going to do whatever he did, so I was wasting my time. In my research I found that some men suffer from post-vasectomy pain syndrome. Uh, hold the phone.

What is this "syndrome" and how do I avoid it at all costs? Apparently some dudes who get the snip have aching boys for the rest of their lives. No thanks. I'm out.

But, I went to the meet and greet appointment anyhow. They let me pee in a cup, did a physical exam to be sure it was possible (I have no idea why it wouldn't be) and then we sat down to talk it over.

The doc, who was brand spanking new out of residency, wanted to be sure I knew what I was getting into. I did. He asked all sorts of lifestyle questions, like if I was willing to go without other children, if I understood how young I was, all those sorts of things. I asked about POST VASECTOMY PAIN SYNDROME.

He said is happens to 3-5 percent of guys, and lasts anywhere from a few weeks to forever. I could live with that. So, I scheduled the procedure.

I scheduled for a Friday morning at 8am. I took off a Monday and Tuesday after to be sure I had time to recover. They instructed me to bring a jock strap and gave me a vicodin to take on my way to the procedure. I showed, and damn sure took the pill.

I arrived Friday am and they showed me right back. The nurse had me take my pants off and put on a t-shirt, then waddle over to the OR table. I did so.

Then, she took beta dine or something similar and covered every inch of my nether-regions. Cold.

The doc showed up a few minutes later with another nurse, who was much younger and very pretty. He had said something earlier about how some dudes get scared and their boys go up inside so he has to work them back out before starting the procedure. I wondered if this was her job. It was not. Her job was to hold a cup and catch what he took out of me, and talk to me and tell me what was happening. Chit-chat.

He went to work and injected my boys with some numbing stuff, which felt like a slight pinch, and then went to work. I felt nothing but the pinch. Snip-snip.

Every couple of minutes, he would reach over and drop something into the nurse girl's cup. Plop.

In 10 minutes, we were all done and he had sewed me up. I felt nothing from the procedure. Bliss.

Then, he sent me home. I rode the 2 miles to the house and got in bed. The vicodin had kicked in and I was feeling good. I got in bed and took a nap.

When I woke up, I was not feeling so good. My boy had bled on the gauze inside the jock strap, and they were sore. So I sent Courtney to fill the prescription for more vicodin, quickly. More please.

She did so and I spent the next couple of days keeping the boys clean with a light sponge bath, and riding a med high. They did get sore from time to time, but these sweet ice packs that look like peas really helped. I would just rotate them.

Sleep was easy with the meds, and by Saturday I was feeling like I could walk around easily, sit up, etc. I could have worked if my job was sitting all day.

By Monday I was ready to go back to work. I stayed home and worked just to take it easy. Tuesday I went back to work normally, no meds by script, just a couple of ibuprofen every few hours.

In two weeks, no pain whatsoever. Back to exercising.

Now, 5 months later still no pain and loving it.

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