First of all, if you have not read the first part to this story, you really should do that before you get into this one.
With that said...onward and upward we go...
They said to come back in 8 weeks to leave a sample to have it tested. If any of my little friends are still loitering inside me, I’ll have to come back in another 4 weeks to leave a second sample to be tested. In the mean time, I’m supposed to have as much fun with myself as I possibly can (because I don’t have a spouse or girlfriend to help me out in this arena) to ‘clean the pipes’ out. (if ya knowhatimean – nudge nudge, wink wink.)
So the first weekend I lay around with a bag of frozen peas on me. No big deal. I could use the break. After the allotted time frame was up (2 weeks) I slowly get to work on my ‘self pipe cleaning’. I’m extremely nervous at what is going to happen. I don’t want to undo anything the doc had done and I’m concerned about the quantity (or lack there of) of fluid that is about to come out. I’m sailing uncharted waters here and my semen are looked up in the brink for the rest of their lives! I quickly learn that the ‘unknown’ is a real big turn off for me. I just can’t do it. I need to, I want to, just can’t.
After a few days of getting to know myself better, I decide it’s time to try again. I’m not the first one that has had this done, and others say there is no difference, so what the hell is my problem? I’ve just got to grab the bull by the horns and get the job done! So that’s what I did……and it was the longest 8 seconds of my life. In the end, victory was mine! I showed that bull who was boss and when we were done, he cowered and limped his way in front of me and I knew right then HE knew who was in control. We never had a fight again after that.
During my ‘cleaning’ tenure, I had asked friends of mine what the 8 week visit was going to bring. How ‘things’ where going to be taken care of. Where the deposit could be made. Options of anyone helping with the process. You know, things that everyone would want to know. I was told by one friend that his wife helped him at their house and he just took it in. Another told me he STILL had not gone in to get tested. (1 year later). Another told me he had to go in to the office and produce his junk there. I was not sure how this office handled it, so I called.
Here’s how the conversation went:
ME: Yes, I need to come in, in a few days, for my post-vas appointment test. My question is, do I have to actually come in to the office and produce it there, or can it be done in the comfort of my home.
NURSE: Unless you can have it here in 10 min, you’ll have to come in and produce it here. You don’t have to make an appointment either, you can just come in and we’ll put you in the room. You may want to call ahead of time to make sure the room is open though.
ME: ok…
NURSE: If you’d like, you can bring your spouse with you too.
ME: Great! Thanks for the info. (not that it’s any of her business, but I no longer have a spouse. I’m flying solo on this one.)
Now, to me, this implied that they have ‘a room’ just for this kind of thing. I’m imagining something like a dark room with dark walls, dim lights, TV with videos and magazines, plush carpet and a velvet couch/love seat and a locking door. Maybe I’m asking for too much? I can dream right? Hindsight I realize, a) I’m not in Beverly hills, and b) It cost me less than a grand for this surgery. What should I expect?
That Friday it was 8 weeks. I figure I’d cut out of work a little early and go make a deposit. On my way there, I call to see if ‘the room’ was open. They tell me it is and to come on in! I hang up and laugh at the pun.
I get there right at 4pm. It’s a Friday mind you, and the place is packed, AGAIN! Great. I wonder how many are there to do the same thing I am. I walk up to the check-in window to let them know what I am there for. Behind the window sits this really cute (mormon type cute) big breasted 17 yr old girl behind the desk. (looked like she was 17 anyway).
‘Hi. I had a vasectomy 8 weeks ago and I’m here to…a…well…a, leave a sample.’
‘Oh, ok…you have it with you?’
The correct answer to this would be yes, but it’s going to take a minute to give it to you! Lol
‘Um, no…a….’
‘well, you can take this cup with you and bring it back Monday if you want. Do you live within 10 minutes?’
‘Um, well, no…I’
‘Well, we are pretty busy, we don’t have any rooms open right now…you want to come back?’
I just called and the room was open. Now no rooms are available and the waiting room is packed? What the hell happened?
Look – I was there. I didn’t want to put this off any longer than I had too. I Needed to take care of it as soon as possible. The ‘job’ was killing me. I was prepared to wait for an hour, even though the nurse on the phone told me that Friday at 4pm may not be a good time because they are all wanting to get out of the office and start their weekend as soon as possible. And the longer they have patients in there, the longer they have to wait. I can respect that, so I was prepared to get in there and take care of business and get out. FAST! Well, little miss BBUMG (big breasted Utah mormon girl) had the whole office packed with people and no room at the inn! No one was happy there.
‘No – I don’t want to come back. I’ll wait.’
‘Ok’ she said.
So I had a seat and started looking at a motorcycle magazine, and low and behold, girls in bikinis posing next to bikes! Good stuff. Help me get BBUMG out of my head since I didn’t bring any material to assist with my job I was about to do. I assume they will have something in ‘the room’ that is designed for this kind of activity. After treating myself like an amusement park for the past 7 weeks, I needed something for the imagination.
5 minutes later she calls me back.
‘A room just opened up so you can come back now.’
‘ ‘A’ room huh?’ I ask jokingly as I leave the waiting room. She ignores me. It’s after 4 on a Friday and the waiting room is packed. No, she’s not in the mood for jokes.
She leads me thru the doorway into the hall and into the second room away from the waiting room. A typical exam room. Nothing special here. Just an exam table, a chair and a sink.
‘This one right here.’ As she is flipping up all the different colored flags on the wall next to the door to signal to the entire staff as to what is happening in the room.
‘Right here?’ I asked.
‘Yeah – here is your cup. Just bring it up to the desk in the waiting room when you are done.’
‘The front desk in the waiting room? With all the people in it?’
‘Yeah. Thanks.’ And she closes the door behind her.
All of a sudden, everything became very quite. Maybe because I was in shock over what is going on here. Tunnel vision was setting in. Every thing was getting foggy and I felt like I was moving slower. I look over at the exam table with the plastic paper on it, the empty chair next to it that seemed to have eyes and was staring at me…then over to the sink, and counter top. Then over to the ‘penis anatomy’ poster on the wall (ya – the one cut in half to see the insides!) and finally back to the door. I imagined several of the nurses on the other side crouched over with their ears pinned to the door snickering to each other. How old am I? I spotted the light switch next to the door and glanced up at the light. It was the brightest light I have ever seen. I considered turning it off, but never did. (hindsight, I really should have).
I walk over to the door to lock it. To my shock, the door does not lock. It’s a fake lock. The door does not lock. Let me say that again…THE DOOR DOES NOT LOCK! How am I supposed to do this. I feel like George Castanza! Is this really happening? Where are the cameras? This is insane! This room was not specifically designed for this kind of activity! This is nothing like what they had told me! I was dooped! I’m getting punked, I just know it! What am I going to do? How am I going to do this?
I pull my thoughts together and try to focus and rationalize. It’s a doctors office. This happens daily in there. I am not the first, nor will I be the last. The flags are up for a reason and everyone out there knows what the reason is. I am just another man doing what needs to be done.
As I continue to gather my senses, my sight starts to return and things are moving a little faster now. I start to hear people talking and walking past my door. I watch the door knob as they walk past and keep talking. Soon, I hear the receptionist up at the front desk in the waiting room speaking to another patient. Then a nurse walks past with another nurse. Both talking away. Then, I swear I heard a pin drop in the next office over! Everything now seemed to be magnified! I could hear things I thought I could never hear. It’s like I’m in the middle of the hallway, naked, with people walking around me while I am trying to do what used to be my own little private 8 second bull ride. It’s like the door is not even closed! I continue to keep my eyes on the door knob, and that don’t help the situation at all!
I look around for some visual assistance because I imagined a small collection of visual stimulants in ‘the room’. Nothing. The place was clean. No Glamore magazine or anything! All I have is the girl in the bikini next to the bike in the magazine that is now only in my head!
So with that, I thought to myself…Let the games begin!
35 minutes later (which I thought was not too bad considering the circumstances) I was walking up to the front desk dropping off my little deposit.
‘How soon before the results are back?’ I asked.
‘Should be quick.’ She said.
‘Quick? Like, can I wait here…quick?’
Laughing…she says, ’we should know in 2 or 3 days. We’ll call you with the results’
A week later, I call back because I hear nothing, hoping no news is good news.
‘Hi, I need to get the results from my post-vas appointment.’
‘Um – yeah…they found some sperm in your semen. It don’t mean the procedure did not work, it just means that some sperm in your vas deferens lines AFTER the surgical site have not come out yet. You need to have more ejaculations and come back again in another 4 weeks and give us another sample to test.’
Ya-right, come in and give another sample!? Are you kidding me!?.....
4 weeks of torturing myself go by and it seems like 8 (teen) more weeks. Doing it for fun is one thing, but when it’s a job and HAS to be done it kinda looses its appeal. I went through with it again, and the experience was just the same as it was the first time. Worst possible experience I have gone through. Test came back and all my buddies are out. Finally!
Now…on to find someone to test this out on…..
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