Heard the expression "have your balls in a sling"? There are moments when I simply cannot imagine that anyone could have created clothing as uncomfortable as this jock-strap I'm supposed to be wearing for the next couple of days. Of course then I remember women's shoes, and have some small consolation, but it's still a pain in the nuts (sorry) to have to stay still, and waddle around when I do move.
So pardon me if I'm a little... errr... testy.
Children haven't been in my vision of my future for quite a while, I've long contended that W.C. Fields was a softy, and supported abortion up through puberty, so I waited a decade to be sure, and recently took the step while it was still paid for by my insurance.
In the weeks between my initial consultation and the surgery I thought a lot about what it means to not reproduce. From a biological standpoint it makes sense that we exist to propagate our genes, and I happen to think mine are pretty good. It's a pretty big step to deny biology its meaning in favor of decisions that I believe to be rational self interest, especially when most of the culture disagrees.
On the other hand, I can't count the number of discussions I've had with older friends who've said "I wouldn't give them up for the world, but if I had to do it over again...", or the times when only one of a couple has been able to come to a party or dinner because the other was stuck at home sitting, and I haven't got time for all the ways I want to change the world now, let alone raise a kid in the process.
So yesterday I went in, signed the consent form, popped the optional Valium (not a drug which I see need to repeat, kinda like the effects of alcohol on motor control, but without much change in perceptuals), and let two people poke at my testicles with needles and scalpels and a soldering iron. Didn't hear anyone say "oops", but I have to admit I haven't wanted to disturb things enough to remove the gauze just yet.
And I had a hell of a time getting comfortable last night, normally I sleep on my stomach, but... well... let's just say "I slept like a baby". Woke up every hour and a half whining.
It's another 8 weeks before they take my second semen sample, and if that shows clear then I'm considered sterile, but it's not like my behavior will change all that much, I haven't protected myself from disease, merely from a half a million bucks or so in potential liability.
Friday, February 4th, 2000 email@example.com