Men are getting vasectomies to help share the burden of contraception. And they are documenting them. Only yesterday Australian Comedian Dave Hughes took to Instagram to share his snip photos.
The author of this post Clint Geagan is a stay-at-home father of four, an author and blogger. This is his account of his vasectomy which he wrote about to much acclaim……
I’m reading through the vasectomy information pack emailed to me from Dr Demediuk’s clinic, and I’m skirting over a series of phrases that scream out joyously in large red and blue font: So Easy. No scalpel. No stitches. No general anaesthetic. No sedation. No hassles. And by the time I’ve finished reading through the first page I’m almost bursting with vasectomy excitement.
‘Tania, I can do this!’ I yell from the kitchen table.
There’s the sound of Tania’s fast-stepping coming down the hall. ‘Are you mental? The kids are sleeping.’
I leap towards her and take her by the shoulders. ‘I’m reading the vasectomy information pack . . . and it’s really good,’ I say in a strained whisper. ‘I’m going to do it, you see? Tomorrow I’m getting it done. Think of this – after tomorrow you can have sex with me whenever you want . . . all the time. You can just come home, clear the bench with a sweep of your arm and throw me upon it wantonly . . . don’t even have to ask.’
She looks at me through a series of slow blinks and then says, deadpan, ‘You’re hurting me.’
After I release her I rebuild her smile by maintaining eye contact and moonwalking to the kitchen table. She shakes her head and moseys back down the hall.
This sudden enthusiasm I feel to be sterilised is unexpected but welcome. The apprehension I’ve carried with me for the past year has been overwhelmed by the hype of Dr Snip’s vasectomy information pack pitch. I continue scrolling through the document, skimming most of it to avoid any info that might kill my mood, when suddenly I happen upon a curious glossy pic. At first I’m not sure what I’m seeing.
My mind plays a crazy, involuntary image association game, and I’m thinking of the Muppet Gonzo in albino form – eyeball free – singing a song of loneliness. Then I see the sadness of octopus tentacles drying on an ocean pier. It’s not until I read the instructions above the picture that I realise I am looking at shaved male genitalia:
At home on the morning of surgery completely shave the scrotum as shown in the photograph.
Considering that my appointment with the good doctor is tomorrow at midday, and that my morning will be taken up by nappy changing and the making of breakfasts and school lunches and all that jazz, I reason that it will be safer to shave the most sensitive and vulnerable area of myself the night before, while the kids are all asleep.