My vasectomy was more scary than painful. They had given me instructions to shave before I came in for the procedure, so I shaved off my full beard of several years to comply with the Dr.'s instructions. I had so much toilet paper stuck to my razor cuts it looked like my face had been Tee Peed.
After glancing at my still-hairy balls the Doctor shouted out some instructions in Russian to a rather large and imposing nurse, and she immediately cupped my nuts in her left hand and dry shaved my nether regions with a well worn disposable safety razor in her right hand. I felt like a slow roller to short that had just been fielded by Alex Rodriguez, she was that deft. The only sounds in the room was the scrape of the razor on my apple, which reminded me of a lizard trying to shed its skin, and the tinkling of the ice cubes in the Doctor's Vodka-over as he sipped, flipping through the pages of a Playboy magazine. I, myself, made nary a sound as I held my breath through the entire thirty minute procedure. The only noises emitting from me were the sounds of beads of sweat exiting my pores, and in my ears they sounded like popping bubble wrap.
The Doctor made his incisions and remarked to his nurse how I reminded him of his first autopsy back in Moscow so many years ago because I was so still and obviously not breathing. What's amazing is that he spoke in Russian and I was able to understand every word he was saying as long as he held a scalpel to my nuts. I even understood what his nurse was saying, and if anyone ever tells me I have a little dick again and they say it in Russian I'll know what they're saying.
All in all it was worth it because now my wife has been off the pill for fifteen years and her health is great, and after all, what other reason is there for getting clipped?
Just do it,
Elfenwolf
