Slice of Life (part two)

[Slice of Life (part two) is the second part of Slice of Life (part one)]

Esai prepared the first injection, and I began to wonder why I didn't choose the "no-scalpel, no-injection" method over the suddenly barbaric-sounding "no-scalpel" method. The "no-shirt, no-shoes, no-service" method seemed appealing as well, but it was too late to stop now. I mean, my balls were already shaved!

The first injection felt like someone stapling my balls to either a wall or a 7-sheet stack of paper. The only point of reference I had (since I've never accidentally stapled my balls to anything) was Wes Craven's "I want to hear you scream!" scene, although getting dumped out of the back of a truck in Port-au-Prince wearing only a pair of blood-stained briefs seemed a bit far-fetched at this point.

True to Dr. S's word, the local anesthesia kicked in right away (thank Jesus!) and the second shot felt a lot like the first one (for some reason, he had to do everything twice!). In hindsight, it would be more accurate to describe the pain as someone stapling your balls to either a wall or a 7-sheet stack of paper, and then magically pulling a "just kidding!" moment out of their hat five seconds later. Not so bad at all.

Doc asked me how I was doing, and I tried to remember some of the witty stuff I'd prepared in the waiting room... something like, "Hey, the Valium really helped that gash!" or something unintelligible in a pseudo-castrata voice. I opted to croak, "Okay."

The rest was standard fare. Fix the vas deferens, shift the clamp, blah blah blah... Once the drugs kicked in, the whole experience was about the same as a bad freshman-year hook-up: lots of mildly painful tugging, some awkward silences, and blood everywhere a nasty headache. Dr. S did slip in a funny steakhouse reference while he "cooked" the tip of each vas, but that was it for the jokes. I staggered over to my clothes, grabbed a complementary apple juice, and wandered out into the hallway.

My better half met me in the waiting area, where some sort of terrorism plot was being reported on CNN. We then debriefed with the good doctor as a couple, which was actually quite helpful. Doc told my wife I had a "beautiful scrotum" and assured her that my semen would "look, smell. and taste the same" as it did before the procedure. I only found these comments mildly disturbing for some reason.

On our way out, we were given a goodie bag containing two plastic lab cups to be used for sperm evaluations after "six weeks or 15 ejaculations, whichever comes first." I couldn't handle this kind of math at the time, so I focused my attention on keeping my apple juice cup separate from the cumshot cups.

I brought my bill to the cashier, who promptly charged me double the amount I was promised by the doctor. I was at a somewhat compromised position to haggle, seeing as the procedure was already completed. Luckily, all parties honored our original agreement and the fee remained severed in half. At least for 15 ejaculations or the end of my AmEx billing cycle... whichever comes first.