It Takes a Man to Get a Vasectomy

The first successful–and purposeful^[1]“Purposeful” is used purposefully as I fear eunuchs, given that they’ve lost so much, would take offense to not being given at least some credit as early vasectomy adopters. Medically … Continue reading–vasectomy was done on a dog. There’s no documentation to support any of the possible theories as to why a dog was chosen, let alone the specific dog. It’s possible that a dog’s penis is simply similar to a human penis and therefore suffices as an anatomical stand-in. It’s possible that an ultra-capitalist breeder ordered the vasectomy to artificially curb supply for the particular breed. I prefer to imagine that the dog in question had aggressive genes and that its owner, not willing to have it euthanized, agreed to either of two alternate options: 1) dog condoms or 2) experimental wiener surgery. The wiener surgery was ultimately chosen I assume because at that time, the year 1823, condoms were “made of fish and animal intestine”^[2]Notice the important grammatical choice here of leaving off “intestine” from fish, meaning that condoms were not made of fish intestines and animal intestines, but of whole fish. Think about that … Continue reading and nobody wanted to be the guy to wrap sheep guts around a dog boner.^[3]Marvin the village creep volunteered, but nobody trusted their dog to be alone with him.

This dog–we’ll assume for the sake of a just and humorous god is a wiener dog–is not the sole recipient of animal testing for the sake of safe human sexual intercourse. Humans have long searched animal hindquarters for solutions to our sexual conundrums. In one example, a 2009 government funding application to test a “RAI [Receptive Anal Intercourse] Condom” called for placing condom bits into rabbit vaginas for five consecutive days to test for potential irritation.^[4]RAI CONDOM: Feasibility and Acceptability Study, source: http://freebeacon.com/issues/government-funded-origami-condoms-tested-on-rabbits/ The rabbits were later “sacrificed” for in-depth examination. Though there is a lot to be offended by here I can’t help but focus on the implied medical similarity between human anuses and rabbit vaginas. On the bright side, maybe there’s a corollary; if you ever get caught masturbating with a carrot just say you’re doing rabbit science.

Animal involvement in human sex isn’t limited to laboratory testing. The internet is rife with man-on-beast porn (I’ve heard). Not to mention our storied history of pantomiming animal sex positions, most notoriously described in the Kama Sutra. Here we are blessed with positions like the logistically confusing Union of the Elephant, the wonderfully punny The Camel’s Hump, and the now associatively depressing Bouncing Bunny. Sorry about that last one.

Given all of this context, a dog vasectomy seems pretty normal, actually.

We are an Idiocracy

Long before man willingly kinked his own hose, arguments in favor of the systematic sterilization of criminals and other “degenerates” gained some degree of favor. Degenerates included, among others, schizophrenics, deaf people, maniacs, morons, idiots, and sadists.^[5]Strangely absent: bestiality enthusiasts. But where is the evidence that degenerates breed degenerates, you ask? The answer can be found in Ada Juke’s vagina.

In 1912 Richard Dugdale, an armchair prison researcher, traced the progeny of Ada Juke (a pseudonym) for evidence of genetic degeneracy. If her forever-after nickname “Margaret, the Mother of Criminals” isn’t telling enough of Dugdale’s findings, then let’s look at the numbers. Of Ada’s 1,200 direct descendants, 1,000 were found to be “degenerates,” either as criminals, insane people, prostitutes, or inebriates. The final monetary toll to the state, including housing, rehabilitation, and more: $1,300,000 ($31.2 million adjusted for inflation).^[6]Robinson, G. Wilse, M.D. The Causes and Prevention of Insanity. Journal of the Missouri State Medical Association, Volume 8, Issue 12, June 1912, pg 470. Wow.

Even before Dugdale’s findings, in 1899, Albert Ochsner, future professor of surgery at the University of Illinois would argue for systematic sterilization of criminals. Numerous supportive articles and papers would follow as would the actual practice of eugenic sterilization, often by castration, sometimes with legal authority but often without.

Cutting off sperm to tame a rambunctious population seems, though ethically wrong, at least scientifically plausible. But doing the same to make men more sexually active? Oh, the mysteries of the wiener continue…

The Steinach Operation: Helping Poets Get Boners Since 1918

Richard Dugdale? Albert Ochsner? Where are the real names, the famous poets and the polarizing neurologists to weigh in on the pre-Hitlerian eugenics debate? Sadly, there aren’t any. At least not with influence in the traditional vasectomy as we’ve come to incorrectly understand it, that being a practice that decreases testosterone. But I wouldn’t tease you without reason. Irish poet William Butler Yeats and father of psychoanalysis Sigmund Freud did participate in sans-sperm testicular medicine, however from a somewhat strange perspective, meant to actually increase vitality and manliness.

In 1922 Dr. Harry Benjamin published an article in American Medicine extolling the virtues of vasectomy for the seemingly contradictory aim of increasing vitality.^[7]Benjamin, Harry. M.D. The Effects of Vasectomy (Steinach Operation). American Medicine. 1922; 28: 435 Popular thinking often equates–incorrectly–vasectomy with decreased sex drive. However, Dr. Benjamin discovered that a very specific type of vasectomy, one that ligates the vas deferens closer to the testicle would actually support manliness rather than diminish it, resulting in “restoration of sexual potency…increase of libido [and]…better erections.” Yeats and Freud, recipients of this Steinach Operation^[8]Named for its inventor, physiologist Eugen Steinach, whose interest in testicles famously included transplanting guinea pig testes onto a female guinea pig. My hat is off to that literal scientific … Continue reading vasectomy reportedly asked their respective doctors about the operation “uh, for a friend.”

Sometimes a cigar needs a bit of surgical help, Freud.^[9]There is no evidence that Freud ever actually said “sometimes a cigar is just a cigar.” Sometimes a misquote is just a misquote.

The Avocado and Me, a Love Story

Eventually all the talk of sterilizing criminals and erecting psychoanalysts would give way to the contemporary purpose of the vasectomy: pretending to smuggle an over-ripe avocado in your pants. I know that sounds weird, but stay with me; personal history would at least suggest that’s one of the goals of a vasectomy.

It was late in 2013. My wife and I had been discussing ways to simultaneously shove a needle in my scrotum and solve a dilemma we had been wrestling with for a while: How do we ensure that our perfect family of four remains four? It turns out that the societal appreciation of convenience is not limited to just small variety stores and concert ticket surcharges. Doctors are actually willing to prick and attack your prick sack, solder it back together, and shake your hand afterwards, all without judging you.^[10]To your face You’ll be limping out of the doctor’s office with plenty of time left in your evening to swing by the 7-11 for a chicken salad sandwich before heading out to see a Maroon 5 show.

I had been interested in the concept of a vasectomy since the age of 14 when I watched an episode of the 1990s family sitcom Home Improvement, aptly titled “The Vasectomy.” This experience would encourage me to research the word vasectomy in the grade school library (which, as it happens, is exactly as difficult as you would imagine). This new knowledge, that a human being would actually willingly call a person on the phone and schedule a specific time to have his scrotum punctured forced me to question the sanity of adults. Was sex really that important? By that time in my life I had done quite well keeping my penis free of all things indicative of adolescence. Jockstraps? Nope. Pubic hair? Not yet. Girls? Ewww. I couldn’t imagine undergoing such a brutal procedure specifically designed to encourage proximity to at least two of those three aversions. Maybe all three at once if the girl had pubic hair and a jockstrap fetish.

What struck me the most then, and still does today (I eventually got over the no-girls-near-my-penis fear), is the contradiction that a vasectomy represents. A vasectomy is a procedure that essentially allows humans to engage in carefree animalistic behavior and is an exception in a society that generally favors self-control of such behavior. We would rather have our balls clipped than be held accountable to our urges. It seems strange that vasectomies get to be the rare exclusion when so much primal inequality exists in the world.

Elective surgery instead of having to quell your boners via simple willpower and cold showers seems excessive.

But hormones always win, don’t they? In January 2013 I went under the knife. And for a full week afterwards my ballsack swelled to the size of an avocado and turned a disgusting shade of overripe purple-black. I knew there would be swelling, but I didn’t expect to fear that security guards at the farmer’s market were eyeing me as a produce smuggler.

That’s not the only thing I didn’t expect…

5 Overlooked Considerations when Getting a Vasectomy

Vasectomies aren’t for everyone. One needs supplies. Important are 1) a penis, 2) a couple of vas deferens, and 3) a supreme confidence that the world is adequately supplied with your brand of genetic muck. But there are additional factors to consider that may not be so obvious. So before you head off to Great Clips for your greatest clip,^[12]Great Clips doesn’t actually deal in scrotal puncturing. Fantastic Sams, though, they offer it to everyone as part of their cut, wash, and cauterize package. think about these overlooked aspects of a vasectomy.

1. You Will Have to Tell Your Parents

The announcement of your vasectomy can be a difficult one. My recommendation is to forgo announcing it entirely. Instead, wait patiently for the right time. Your friend’s engagement party? No. In the middle of sex with your mistress? Not yet. At your parole hearing? Sure. A vasectomy might earn you some points with the judge.

Your parents, however, do deserve a proper announcement. Perhaps more than your wife,^[13]Yes, I said “wife” here. I assume it’s still PC for me to assume a vasectomy is an operation considered only by heterosexual couples. Though, I’d love to see a comedy skit where a gay man … Continue reading and even more than your Catholic congregation, you will have to help navigate your parents through the many stages of vasectomy acceptance…vaseceptance?^[14]TM.

Parents want grandkids. Lots of grandkids. It’s a numbers game. The more blood relation in the world the better chances they have to be pampered during their late Pampers years.

I went with the humor route. I informed my mother via a card in a bouquet of flowers for her birthday.

The card read: “Happy Birthday, Mom. I’m getting a vasectomy. It has nothing to do with you or your birthday. A birthday card seemed like an appropriate way spill those beans. Though understand that no beans shall be spilled in the future.”

2. Bring a Jockstrap. Bring a Jockstrap. Bring a Jockstrap.

I was told by my doctor and his nurse not once, not twice, not four times, but three times to bring a jockstrap to the procedure. The nurse’s exact words were “not tight boxer briefs. It must be a proper jockstrap.”

Silly me, I always thought of a jock strap as a redundant piece of underwear. I have boxer briefs and, if necessary, a free hand that can be molded into a protective cup shape. Little did I know that jockstraps also work as handy vascetomized testis hammocks.

I’ve never had a legitimate reason to wear a jockstrap. Sure, I was required to wear one during football in junior high, but the superfluous existence of the garment was apparent immediately and in multiple ways.  First, I never actually played football. I ran the drills and complained like everyone else, but for me game time wasn’t measured in quarters but rather in ass splinters, as I rarely stood from the bench. Second, my penis and balls did not collectively have enough mass to be considered burdensome in any way. Imagine a tiny cartoon mouse with a hobo bindle containing two dried peas; the odds of that mouse losing his precious package between two colliding shoulder pads during a middle school football game are pretty slim.

Fast forward to the age of 32, I can proudly say that I now fill out that mouse bindle just fine.

3. You will have to shave your own balls

From the actual “Pre-Operative Vasectomy Instructions” document: On the night before surgery, shave the upper scrotal area [1] The hair should be removed from the base of the penis (leave the hair on the abdomen) [2], down over the scrotum. On the morning of surgery, shower and wash the scrotal area with soap and water [3].

A few things:

Being self conscious about concern #2, after the operation I asked the doctor if my shave job was adequate. I can proudly say that I followed the instructions perfectly.^[15]I do understand it’s possible that “following the instructions” and an “adequate” shave job may be mutually exclusive. Poorly written instructions would logically encourage poorly shaved … Continue reading Confirmation of my adequacy is surprising, actually. The razor and me aren’t exactly on familiar terms. I don’t grow body hair very well. My arms are hairless. My chest is hairless. I shave my face only 4-5 times per month and that’s really just to keep me from looking like a failed shaved rabbit anus condom experiment. “Patchy” is an adequate term used often to describe my face.

4. Small Talk is Important…and is Still Very Awkward

I’m a bit of a wuss. Needles make me go pale. Blood, especially my own, brings me to near faint. In fact, these wuss-like characteristics, and the probability that they are genetic, might be responsible for the unimpressed reactions I often received when I spoke of my then forthcoming vasectomy. A common exchange:

You’ve never known how important small talk is until you’re using it to distract yourself from the pain of a knife rearranging your male fallopian tubes while trying to avoid the embarrassment of a having a nurse stare down your taint like a baseball umpire eyeing the strike zone.

I informed the doctor and his nurse before the surgery that I’m a bit of a wuss. Small talk helped occupy my attention. The doctor asked me about my kids, about work, where I’ve lived, and so on. I appreciated that.

Just after the surgery the doctor offered to show me the specimen. Part of me thought the doctor was prodding my admitted wussiness. I could respect that. The other part of me hated him. A third part wondered if “specimen” was perhaps a bit grandiose considering we’re essentially dealing with a cut tip from a coffee stirrer, not an Ebola virus zero patient.

I hesitated to view the snipped tubeling. But “sure” I said, “I’ll look at a spent bullet casing in a jar as long as I can’t accidentally glimpse the entire war zone.” What did the specimen look like? Imagine a single grain of quinoa dipped in marinara sauce. Now imagine the next time you eat quinoa and marinara sauce that you’re eating my vas deferens.

Speaking of eating human flesh…

5. You’ll be hungry

A vasectomy requires six hours of fasting. No food. No drink. Now, I’m not a raging food addict, but when hunger is paired with anxiety, I get extra grumpy and somehow extra hungry. By the time of my operation I was so hungry that the cauterized burning flesh smell emanating from between my legs could have signified an edible–though still very much not ideal–meal. For a moment I sympathized with zombies.

After the operation my evening forked with two equally important objectives: 1) get food and 2) get my pain prescription filled before the pharmacy closed. Factor in the sudden ice storm and the resulting slow traffic and those two objectives became even harder to prioritize.

I had to choose: food or pills. I chose food: the Arby’s Smokehouse Brisket. There’s your new demographic Arby’s: 30-year old post vasectomized men (and the wives who have to drive them from the doctor’s office).

Luckily, I got the pills too.

Endnotes:

Zombie image credit: http://www.wazaap.com/2012/09/14/pennsylvania-cannibal-caught-eating-womans-head/