Introducing Rizal

I found Rizal sitting on a wall outside his family's stall, on my afternoon blip hunt. Kids are always intrigued by the eyebrow thing. I always encourage them to have a go themselves, for no other reason than to entertain myself, so funny sometimes. Rizal had a go and the result was today's blip. A charming, handsome young man, who is going to break a few hearts one day.

Euphemist reminded me of this story in yesterday's comments and it seemed a suitable follow up to the balls poem. A bit lengthy, but you don't have to read it.

The vasectomy

After my second son was born, wife and I decided that I should have a vasectomy. It was not that parenting did not appeal to me, but after two C-sections, wife understandably, did not want to go through that again. A life of taking birth control pills was not particularly appealing either, with lots of rumors of health risks in the long term. So, after weighing up the options - several times, it came down to me having the snip.

The visit to the doctors resulted in an appointment with a consultant, to determine that this was the right decision and not an 'impulse buy' and to explain the procedures. She also gave us a plastic shopping bag full of condoms, to use for the few weeks that it takes the remaining wrigglies to exit my system. I could read wife's mind at that moment, "We won't be needing them, a pack of three would have been too many!"

Just like buying life assurance, there was a 'cooling off' period of a couple of weeks, which just made things worse, a bit like being on death row, waiting for the day to arrive. Everyone that I mentioned the event to took a sharp intake of breath through pursed lips. Everyone seemed to have a horror story to relate that they felt obliged to share with me, thanks, that helped!

The consultant told me that I should shave the operation area the day before the appointment. So I got the Braun synchron plus out and soon realized that this was not going to work, as it ground to a halt. Next, I bought a bag of BIC razors, those things are just damned dangerous and were very soon banished to the bin. There had to be an easier way, then I remembered wife's armpit hair removing cream.

I read the instructions and doubled up in the application and timing, as the hair to be removed was a bit thicker than armpit fluff. The stuff really smells, but success! I was hairless and ready for the op'. The next morning, I was a bit itchy, but the sight that awaited me in the bathroom was horrific. Every single hair follicle had developed a zit, hundreds of them. Looked just like my face, as a teenager (I suffered bad). The surgeon was not going to be impressed with this, the idea was to prevent infection!

The big day had arrived. I sat in the clinic waiting room with half a dozen other inmates. The stress was unbelievable, with all the finger drumming and foot tapping, it was like a Fred Astaire movie! Old magazines rustling but no one really reading, just trying to pass the time. The detailed vasectomy posters on the walls were not helping much either.

Finally my name was called. I undressed and put on the backless robe, what a stupid garment, who designed this shit! I mounted the operating table and was covered with the green sheet with a hole in it. Just what is the point of that, but I was beyond caring by this time.

In comes the surgeon, a woman! Not that it made any difference, just not what I was expecting. She took one look at me and said, "Hair remover cream?" "Uhuh".

She poured some of that brown stuff into a saucer and started painting the area with half inch decorators brush from a DIY store, moving things around, to make sure the area was well coated. After about thirty seconds, she said, "I think we'll move on with the anesthetic injection", that calmed things down!

Not much to be said about the operation itself. I was told to put my hands behind my head, relax and think of England. There was a lot of pulling and tugging and in less than ten minutes it was all over. I was told the anesthetic would wear off in about four hours and was given a couple of pain killers to take if necessary. "No sex for three days" I was told. Ha! Like I am going to wait three days before checking if everything still worked!

The four hours of extra anesthetic was handy as I had a brass band concert that evening and it would at least get me through the first half of the performance. I pushed my car seat as far back as it would go and drove home very carefully.

My mate Iain (blipper Euphemist) picked me up and drove us to the concert hall. I had already explained to Malcolm the conductor, that we would possibly be late and that I may not even be able to play, but I would try. We were indeed late, but we donned our fancy braided uniforms and bow ties and approached the stage from the side, hoping to sneak on without being noticed.

The conductor stopped the band, turned around to the audience and announced, "And here he is ladies and gentlemen, straight from the vasectomy operation, DAVE!!!!", to which the audience and band members erupted into tumultuous applause and cheers. So much for sneaking on, the conductor had related the whole story to the audience before we arrived.

My playing started off well enough, but as the anesthetic wore off, it became obvious that this was a bad idea and I was unable to play the second set. Everyone was very sympathetic and formed a protective ring around me in the bar after the concert, the last thing I needed was some drunk bumping into me.

At the clinic, before I left, I was given a 'sample' jar, which had to be posted back to the clinic after a week. I was told that it usually takes three weeks for the system to clear. Sure enough, after the first sample was sent, a package arrived with another jar and a letter explaining that I was not clear.

The second sample was a disaster, as I missed the jar and had to wait another two days. After that, I always checked the rim of the jar for burrs and sharp edges. Still positive.

The third week, we decided to have some fun with it and do the sample together. Never again, missed and wasted yet another two days. Still positive.

The fourth week, another package arrived to my disappointment. The letter explained that they could not test the sample as the lid had come off in transit. I really felt sorry for the poor postman, I wonder if he got paid extra for doing that round.

I can't remember exactly how many weeks it took before I got the all clear letter, more like eight weeks rather than the expected three or four. A few weeks later, we went to see a play called 'having a ball', all about the same thing. Hilarious! Made me realize that there was a book here, as everyone who has ever had the snip would have a story to tell, well I hope you were entertained by mine!

Dave