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the Vasectomy dialogue.

morning began fitfully early in the morning, with the cat making a fuss beyond the bedroom door, i went to see what the matter was… the sweet beast just wanted attention, to understand that even she is loved, and always reciprocates with closed eyes and purring rumble… though i chose to go back to bed, to rest until my alarm went off, but i wasn’t so lucky… as the cat called again, and i audibly volunteered to see what was going on this time, throwing up sheets in the darkened bedroom as my lover sleeps soundly… i sit and wonder now what feelings were there as i became curious about how the day would go, playing with the cat as i did so, but soon enough realized it was time to get ready for work that day… a shave and then a shower, i had wanted to trim some of my unruly hair around the edges, but had slept the night away without acting on the urge… now it was the next morning, and a finished my shave looking at myself in the mirror, questioning my readiness for the set of situations to come… as i showered, i thought about how my sexual abstinence from even masturbatory exercises had been all week long, even when i bought the condoms as i bought the jock strap… i think they say for three months the sperm might stay in there, active, but i go to the lab after that period and they check a sample of my fluid… as i finalized getting ready, my nervousness crept back into my mind, and i realized how much my cat and i would be more alike from now on… time drew short, and i was fumbling around with other things like trash disposal and a frozen lunch, i went into the bedroom to wake my love with my leaving… she hugged and kissed me, and made me feel warm, after all of this i have her to go back to… i went back out to get her phone, just in case, and hugged her again as i asked her to tell me it was going to be alright… she acquiesced, and i petted the now sleeping cat, saying goodbye to my love for the day… i put on the loosest pants i have, put the medium jock strap in plastic for later on, but still feel that the supporter might be too tight… when i got home yesterday, my love told me the answers to some questions she had asked her dad about his vasectomy, and i felt uncomfortable anyway even as she happily spit it all out at me….not certain of my sense of relief at her action… his vasectomy was years and years ago, and so his recollections were slightly vague, but worth the time hearing another perspective on the same deal… he didn’t recall bleeding or oozing, and had said that after an hour or so of laying on the couch, he felt normal enough to play racquetball later that same day… as i walked to work, i found myself negative, but quickly reaffirmed that it wasn’t like i was going to die today… it is supposedly an efficient and minor surgery, but this is also the first surgery i have ever undergone, i find myself floating between anxiety and surety that it will be fine… the doctors seemed nice, and i didn’t have to shave my balls, still uncertainty nags my conscious imagination as i think more about it… getting to work always takes my mind from those personal concerns, but a couple minutes late as i walked through the door, mistakes were already afoot within the first twenty minutes of clocking in… yelling and compounded negative feelings flying around the closed space while solvent stench fills the air… the paycheck in hand, and waiting for a break to cash it out, and then more waiting as the day gets shorter step by exaggerated increment… i still feel so nervous thinking about what the doctor will do specifically, and my mind keeps exaggerating it, or maybe revealing what i need not be afraid of?… i feel somewhat automatic… as the various parts work themselves out in spite of my lack of a thorough understanding… i call my love at lunch, and she gives me her idea of reassurance, but to speak out loud my concerns gives me a kind of freedom thinking about it all in a diminutive light… i keep imagining the moment the scalpel will hit my scrotum skin, how it could so easily tear open without human constraint, but the cringing is like a character is inside my head telling me these gristly details one after the other… i shall call him Smitty after the medical fetishist in my story, ‘a cat well-armed’… maybe to neuter him like i am going to be neutered soon… that sounds too vengeful, and my voices are merely seriously playful aspects of my imagination’s process of expression, i should not make them my enemies… time giving the afternoon a push has me feeling accepting although still leery and reluctant… curious how the negative feelings try to stick to me even as i realize the growth involved in taking these steps… it still feels like a mind game i am only playing with myself, expecting the weekend to feel like crap, but trying to prepare for the positive if it all goes smoothly… goddamn, first surgery ever, maybe i am afraid of getting used to it… then going out and getting that tattoo i meant to get to signify the commemoration of my first live gig with Livid Archaic like i always said i would… had i gotten the tattoo back then perhaps surgery wouldn’t seem that big a deal even if does involve the region of my nethers… i speculated that i would creep off the deep end from fear, but today that is trounced by the programming to ‘get over it’… layers of timing pass fast through my periphery awaiting that doomed-like feeling to abate and go away… anesthetic seems the only way to take it, but then what happens after it wears off, or when i take the taxi home?… will i be lucid enough to even say my address correctly?… the skewed particular madness has occurred, and Here i am recounting the ways i have deceived myself into being a bastard without regard for family, i suppose i should take it like a man… two hours and counting down… i am so nervous, it’s not like i am getting an appendectomy, or some other major surgery like the removal of cancerous growth or something… yet the fear keeps cutting through making any expectation of a decent weekend less bearable, but we all overcome even these trials and tribulations… i am just scared of letting go… it isn’t as though the procedure is so terrible, but my thoughts keep twisting this way… i refuse to sign out until i go… even as the very real chill hits me, trying to tell me to run away, but this could merely be that side of me wanting to clutch so tightly to that which serves me no purpose… i know not… fretting over nothing so critical that it must be quick and painless, i must look upon it as an adventure, but i feel like this until that piece is gone… trying to see myself beyond this petty insight to tease the negative aspects out before i face adult responsibility… i shall join the sterilized ranks of living human males, mankind, but what then friends?… unsure of what the future will bring, folks, but i am always ready to calmly see it through… my next words shall be a description after the fact of the surgery, these the last lines before i meet the rest of my destiny head-on… fear ate my breakfast, and left me thinking only of the negatives as they kept fisting my mind, as i walked out early enough to deposit my paycheck… i walked to the buses from there, and took the one to the closest stop near the hospital, i then walked the rest of the way there following the steps i had taken only months prior… nervous, anxious, it was all there afforded for me to glare at without vocalized comfort… the emotions are the most difficult things to confront when you have no reference point for experiences such as this, my heart was racing hard for a little while there, and i figured that i could have a panic attack if it got any worse… it didn’t, though, unless you include the ‘endless waiting for something to happen’ pose i was enduring in the waiting room… everyone had their comfort buddy there as well, which made me feel like my anxiety was not “man enough” for the atmosphere in my head, but even those feelings were dissuaded because i soon realized i was not the only solo guy there… it was close to sundown, with more guys coming in with their wives and families, before i was ever lead into the office where the procedure was done… mike was a nice guy, and in a clinical way helped me calm down, with words before the sedation was ever used… then i undressed after he left, changing into that backless gown for easy access to the junk down below, and sat for a couple seconds before mike came back in… i gave enough of the freaked impression that mike gave me a taste of the sedative to calm me, and i laid there upon the paper-covered table, the dripping saline flush hung down… the needle into the iv after a brief prepping occasion including mike shaving my bits as i calm, and after he leaves one other time i remember seeing the doctor in question enter the room… there was an abrupt end to the chatting, though, as the full sedative took thorough effect… i drifted off listening to the doctor’s classical music, and awoke instantly at the same time, it was done and it was time for me to stand… it was so….strange that asked mike what was going on, and he said it was over, although i was still feeling fine… i felt untouched, but now as i was putting on my clothes, i thanked mike for his patience with my babbling… i even asked him to thank the doctor for me, i was a little bit lit, and needed a lift home from the taxi service… it felt like the ‘endless wait’ in reverse this time, but eventually it worked out to the satisfactory fight at the end, with the argument ending in my love walking a quarter of a mile to pick up my pain prescription… i was weeping to myself while she was away, still not quite there in grasping all that had occurred, and i found time to order pizza somewhere before she had left… she called before she even went down that road, she was only trying to make me see, and it got so heated because i was not able to better understand her point… whatever that was now, as i get forgetful so easily sometimes, and maybe it is the medication right now… she returned almost an hour later after i had received the pizza, which i didn’t touch missing my hunger to eat, but we got along again and watched television for little while… we had spoken our peace respective, and i was able to see her points when we discussed it before we sat and ate anything, i had a slice of the thing… i went to sleep in the jock strap without a problem, but i wasn’t going to hit the wall of the absolute realization of what i had done, fortunately as i write this the dope is working a little too well… i wept today after a good nights sleep, playing guitar to the radio, and slammed right against that wall…

Thanks, khet.