Friday, January 30, 2009

The Last Vasectomy Post, Ode To A Cutter

Hold on a second, just finishing up my workout with some lunges.

Teammate of mine said that the worst part about the whole ordeal was the anticipation, laying there, waiting and worrying, and in the end he was right. Even now that I've gone and had it done, thinking about it is actually worse then actually going through it.

I lay there behind the curtain, bag flapping in the breeze, waiting for the cutter, staring at the tile which is standard issue for any public building from the sixties or seventies here, I think. I call the shade 'government blue' - kind of a sickly blue green you see in hospitals, schools, arenas, pools, you name it. And the dirty white ceiling. Waiting waiting and then in he comes. He and the nurse (what a job that is, prepping for this work) kibbitz back and forth. Both comment on my shave job and what excellent work I have done. The jab of the needle and a quick instant of pain and then nothing. Just stare at the ceiling, definitely don't look down because you can sense the work being done, feels like he's rooting around for his keys or something and then he holds one in front of you - little white tube - and sews you up. Then to the other side and again the jab and then quickly its over.


And I got a free apple juice!

Came home and waited and waited for the pain to start but nothing doing. Now, I'm not comfortable, really, but the only time it hurts is if I bend over, like to pick something up. So I don't do that because then I get that old kicked in the nuts feeling. Only drawback is I dropped my wallet and those little urchins, my progeny, swept in and made off with it. Haven't seen it or them since.

And here, a little poetic tribute, written by a friend to toast:

Vas Deferens

Like the cloud that produces no rain,
The sun that no longer provides warmth.
Like the throat that no longer sings,
The eye that no longer sees beauty.

So dangles my member
Bereft of purpose
An aimless wanderer
A drunken soldier
Telling stories of long-ago battles
In faraway lands.

My penis wakes with a start,
looks around, confused.
A thief in the night
With nothing to steal.

No sports or sex for a week, the cutter said. So no hockey this weekend. As for the sex, well then, I wonder if she'd believe it if I told her that after this week I was told to do it thrice weekly for a few months.

Probably not.


Tonight the Oilers face Wild on Jack Lemaire. Always a tough matchup but I expect we will see a strong effort coming on the heels of Tuesday's pasting. A simple case of a team that had been reading its press clippings I believe. Potulny's return should make things interesting; will he centre Cole and Nilsson or perhaps he will step in for Brodziak who will step in for Cogliano who will step in for Gagner.

The Oilers are where we expected them to be, right in the mix. Only four clubs have clearance on them and they have gained clearance on a few clubs so its coming down to seven or eight clubs for four spots and the Oilers have some games in hand on top of everything. They are in decent shape, although you would think they had lost ten straight based on reaction to Tuesdays' game.

Their problems remain the same problems they have had since day one. They need a couple of big bodied veterans to play in that bottom six forwards and help with the PK and the fact that Smid and Staios have been getting outchanced playing the dregs is not helping much either.

And the goaltending is a little worrisome.

Easy fixes but management prefers to let it ride. As a fan I hope for the playoffs of course and I think its doable but a small part of me wishes for failure so that someone can come in and do a little cutting themselves. Off with the head, yeah?


The Forechecker said...

Your picture of the scalpel might scare off those gentlemen considering such a procedure, but I can assure you, no such slice & dice occurs.

These days, they actually poke open a hole, then simply reach in to pull out your will, self-confidence, vitality, etc. It's all over quite quickly.

LittleFury said...

I thought they used lasers for that shit these days.

doritogrande said...

I thought they used lasers for that shit these days.

Why no Mr. Deferens. I expect you to die!

...Sorry. I've been watching Bond today.

Black Dog said...

littlefury - the whole idea is not to think about what's going on down there - the smell of singed hairs and burning flesh, not a good thing

Anonymous said...

just a word to the wise - a coworker of mine had the operation after his second child. He was still able to conceive after with his 'leftovers' just over a week later.

He has three kids now =)

Black Dog said...

oh fully aware of that anon - apparently you have enough for fifteen shots left over

so caution is still the word

Scott said...

The poem is brilliant. I hope your blog has been a good outlet for you in this most difficult time. Are those 15 shots reserved for another jar?

Anonymous said...

You have a gift for the written word Mr. Black Dog. As always, wonderful reading. Add to that your keen Oilers observations, you're a gem.

Black Dog said...

thanks anon, appreciate it

I passed your praise onto the poet, Scott.

And for the first time in nearly 30 years the last thing on my mind is sex. Damn!