10.22.2008

Worst Nurse

We did it. Or, I should say, Chris did it.

He had a vasectomy on Monday.

It’s true; there will be no more bulging bellies for me… no more first glances at a new baby… no more brand new fingers curling around mine… no more first smiles… no more sleep-deprived, hormonal, dazed first weeks… no more sore, cracked, bleeding nipples! No more tiny feet crammed up my ass in a bed that’s already too small! No more RESPs to open! No more baby equipment to bleed our already stretched funds into! WHOO HOO! NO MORE BIRTH CONTROL!

The procedure went well. We had every confidence in Chris’urologist, but I must admit that I got a bit of a pang as we walked into the hospital that I had given birth to Dove in for the sole purpose of ensuring that I would never be walking in there to give birth again. Of course, this whole process is full of bittersweet ironies and understandings, many of which have years left to play themselves out.

We went to register in the Urology ward, where a corkboard on the wall was plastered with dog and cat pictures. I turned to the receptionist. 'They're all neutered, right?' Waka waka. Without missing a beat she responded, 'Oh definitley, but we sure are glad to have a human to practice on.'
Oh, urology humour. Such an overlooked area of medical comedy in general.

There was little intake to go through, save for putting on the gowns, and Chris was taken in after only a short wait. I went and got a coffee and tried to flip through a magazine but I couldn’t really concentrate, and every time the automatic door slid open my head snapped up, looking for him. I didn’t realize that I was worried until he was away from me, and as the moments slipped by my adrenaline became elevated until, with a flush of relief, Chris appeared in the open doorway and waddled towards me.

He was a bit pale, and there was a stain on his gown, which, thankfully, was only iodine. Of course, my mind had already registered blood, and it was quickly trying to talk itself back to a less gory place.

I waited while Chris slowly got dressed, and then we made our way out of the ward. We literally live less than a block from the hospital, and Chris insisted that he could walk home, no need for me to get the car.

However, by time we made it to the sidewalk, there was some discomfort – mine.

I tried not to let my mind go there, but all of a sudden it was deep in medical procedure territory, and I guess knowing that Chris was ok allowed my ‘fight or flight’ instinct to switch from the the former to the latter. My heart started beating really quickly and my face flushed. Then came the black spots and before I knew it, I was down, splayed on the sidewalk trying to find centre in a world that was spinning.

‘K! Are you alright? Do you need me to go get the car?’

Awesome. My husband just voluntarily had his vas deferens severed, but I’m the one that passes out. If you want to accuse me of being a spotlight hog, now would be a good time.

Somehow we make it home, but once we got to our front porch I abandoned Chris for our couch, where I took refuge for a bit until the second bout of nausea passed. Chris managed to get himself settled, and it occurs to me that I am like the husband that passes out in the delivery room – and I would be pretty peeved at me right now.

I eventually get my shit together and spend the rest of the day doing penance for my initial faux pas (seriously, how tacky is it to pass out at your husband’s vasectomy), slathering Chris with pillows, ice, magazines and attention.

So, now I’m feeling good. Better than Chris, that’s for sure, who has cut his weenie icing recovery a little short to attend to the load of freelance work that has been finding it’s way to him. But he’s doing ok, and I have been trying my best to take care of him and keep him and his gonads comfortable. I do of course totally appreciate his willingness to go under the knife for the sake of our reproductive freedom, something I’m sure he’ll find ample opportunity to remind me of.

Everyone has been calling and wishing Chris well; my BFF wished him a mazel tov on becoming a Jew (heh heh), and many people (well, mostly guys) have had the same question: when can Chris resume his husbandly duties?

Not to worry; he’ll be able to take out the trash as early as next week.


***
…and to answer the first question every Jewish mother asks: yes, yes, yes, but what did you eat? You can find out here.


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17 comments:

  1. that just your way of getting back at all those men who faint while their wives are giving birth. ;)

    also...please convince my husband that he wants to get the big v. pretty please!

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  2. I am going to get those boys together for a chat!

    Glad it went well.

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  3. Metro's comment makes me laugh because not even halfway through your post, I went to Sugar D and asked, "When we're ready to not have more kids, for sure, will you get a vasectomy?" It sounds pretty sweet - well, except for the passing out part. ;)

    So what's the appropriate message for this occasion? Congratulations? Get well soon? Surely there must be a greeting card??

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  4. Spotlight hog!

    Glad to hear that Chris is doing well and that everything went okay.

    (And, that's a pretty funny joke for a urologist. I'm impressed.)

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  5. why why why does it make me queasy to read about you getting queasy when a man has a teeny tiny little cut made in his bits after we had whole people tear through ours without any drugs at all??
    it makes no sense to me. however I am lightheaded and must go lie down now.
    mazel tov!

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  6. As my doctor said to me in the OR last month: "Congratulations! You're infertile!"

    And my mom totally fainted and slid under my hospital bed after an operation when I was a kid.

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  7. oooohhhh. No worrying about birth control?

    let teh fun begin.

    Poor Chris. And I would have fainted as well.

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  8. I'm impressed by anyone willing and able to have surgery on a perfectly normally operating part of the body. One that men probably feel is their most important body part.

    I do think it's a good idea if you know for sure you don't want to have anymore kids. I just can't get over the idea of having a knife... I can't even finish the sentence.

    A few years ago, my wife told me that of course I'd begetting a vasectomy when we were done having children. For never having talked about it to all of a sudden I absolutely was going to be doing this someday. I was having none of that.

    So, anyway, hats off to you and your husband. I think I'd actually do it if someone just convinced me that it was for something else. "Milo, time to have your wisdom teeth pulled." "Um, ok, but I thought I already had that done when I was 20." "Just come with me."

    Oh and PS: I almost fainted when my wife got an epidural for our first child.

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  9. Spotlight hog.
    heh heh

    Seriously... this is a procedure we're going to give serious thought to at this end when we're 110% sure we're finished with the wee ones. Makes total sense.

    Hope your husband heals quickly.

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  10. Just found your blog and my husband and I are in hysterics! Glad to hear that your husbands procedure went well. And I have now found a new blog to read!!

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  11. Is it appropriate to wish Chris's gonads a speedy recovery? I too found that urologists are very humorous, I think you have to be when dealing with human plumbing. Can't believe you almost fainted girl, that is sympathy pains at it's best.

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  12. oh Chris' poor manly bits! Wish him well and I hope he's back at taking out the trash real soon.

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  13. this whole thing made me wince.

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  14. That is both brutal and hilarious all at once. I'm glad you are both doing well now.

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  15. Hooray for no birth control! I think that's worth a fainting spell and a few glares from Chris, right?

    Once we're done, Aaron will be getting the big V, too. Although I'll be a nurse by then, and will probably ask if I can come in to watch. (This kind of thing never makes me queasy.)

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  16. AAAAAAAAH.

    Okay, reading this helps. Sorta. I think.

    We're trying ot make this decision. He's fine with it. I'm ambivalent. Ish. Sorta.

    GAH.

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  17. Colin poured over this post. He's still freaked out.

    Yay for no more birth control!!! It sure makes taking out the trash more fun. ;)

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