Question: What do a vasectomy patient and a Christmas tree have in common?
Answer: They both have decorative balls.
Two and through.
For as long as I’ve envisioned having kids, I pictured having no more than two. You’ll note that we hit that number with The Little Sis, so something needed to be done to avoid additional brown-eyed, dimple-cheeked babies from taking over our house.
I’ve had a Mirena for three years, but that’s not necessarily a long-term solution. As of right now, I’m undecided if I’ll have a new one put it in when the current one comes out in two years — I love it, but the insertion was very difficult (even the PA said it was the hardest one she’d done), and I’m not sure I want to do that again. I’d be open to having my tubes tied, but that’s a fairly invasive surgery, so the responsibility fell to The Husband to go the vasectomy route. He was open to the idea when we discussed it a few years ago but needed a little more time to let the idea settle. And understandably so, as it is rather permanent.
Because The Husband had maxed out his out-of-pocket commitment re: medical expenses with his gallbladder removal earlier this year, we figured it would be a good time to have this done. So he went for a urology consultation last week and scheduled the in-office surgery for today.
Overall, things went well. The doctor was great and had a sense of humor that meshed well with The Husband’s (the joke above was told by The Urologist. Also, The Husband is threatening a tattoo above his boy parts that says, “For entertainment purposes only”).
The procedure took about an hour, which was a little longer than estimated, as The Urologist ran into a little bit of trouble at one point, but all in all it was fine. We set up The Husband with some lortab, a bag of peas, a takeout pizza dinner, and an early bedtime (see also: lortab). He was in a bit of pain when he went to bed, but hopefully that’ll get better soon.