Sperm-killing antibodies and foot surgery.

Monday, 16 July 2007

So I had decided to get a vasectomy. Not a decision to be made lightly, I know. But listen, my partner and I have been together for over two years, and we’ve tried all the fancy pants contraceptive things. It’s not fun, and it more often than not causes more trouble than it’s worth. It’s messy, it’s gross, it’s tiresome, it’s inhibiting, it makes her go crazy ape bonkers, it messes with the delicate inner-balance of her tiny body...Whatever.

All in all, I’ve decided that this is the best option. No ongoing process, no remembering to take pills at the exact minute every day, NONE OF THAT. Just a little procedure and away we go, right?

Yeah, you guessed it. Nothing in my life is ever that simple. NOTHING.

My doctor refused to perform this minor surgery. He told me that I was a nutbag. He phoned a Urologist for me, handed the phone over, I explained my situation and he said to me:

“How old are you son?”

“Uh, twenty two.”

“Not a chance in hell. You’d have be at least, at least ( yes he repeated it ) fifteen years older before I’d even consider doing it. Put the quack back on.”

“Thank you sir.”

My doctor chatted for a second. Laughed. And then said to me:

“Well? What did he say?”

“You know damn well what he said, punk.”

Thankfully my doctor decided to explain a few things to me about the procedure. I had always been of the ‘vasectomy is generally reversible’ school of thought. However this is a big fat lie. It might just be reversible if its reversed say, the next day. After that you’re looking at absolutely a snowballs chance in HELL of having it reversed. The tubes (vas deferens) no longer work after a vasectomy is performed, even if reattached by the best surgeon, and after a period of time...your body starts to produce antibodies that KILL ALL YOUR SWIMMERS! Oh yes. Your body goes all German war machine on your own sperm and mass murders the poor buggers until your body STOPS making them.

Now those are a few things that I did not know.

Had I known, I may not have been so eager to involve myself with such an activity. I am glad that I didn’t stumble into the office of some over worked, jaded, old doctor who would take one look at me and decide that is was probably best if I didn’t ever procreate and just agreed to do my bidding. Previously this is how I hoped it would pan out. Luckily, it seems, I don’t always get what I want.

And then there’s my ingrown toenail which I know you are just DYING to hear all about.

Suffice it to say that the two options Doc gave me were to let it grow out with some antibiotics for the infection and god knows how many weeks of pain as it rights itself or...

He injects the base of my toe with a local anaesthetic, until it’s totally numb, uses a pair of surgical scissors to CUT down the length of nail (Yes, that means one of the blades would be burrowing away underneath my nail...) and tear out strip of toenail on the edge to effectively making it more narrow or creating a new edge. Also he would have to dig into where the nail starts growing and kill the edge of this part with some corrosive chemical to make sure the part he just tore out doesn’t just start growing back. Voila!

I naturally took the long and painful ‘wait for it to grow out’ option.

Click here to request a photo of my ingrown toenail and I’ll send you an email with JPG attachment absolutely free of charge!

Good day.

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