Hello my fellow readers...yes I know it's been quite a long time since we last met. It seems that in the past 30 days so much as happened I really don't even know where to start. Let's see, I think I shall begin with my testicles. (sorry mom, but I do have to start somewhere!)
As many of you are aware, I did the "consult" in which my European "doctor" with broken fingers "consulted" with me (and other parts of me!) Well the surgery was scheduled and performed. I shant go into all the gory details, but lets say for all you men out there, you remember that feeling when that girl (we never forget your name!) who kicked us in the nether regions in the 3rd grade! (HER name was Rachel Kraft by the way!) Well that feeling remained with me for 2 weeks! Can you imagine??! Two weeks of that pain in your diaphragm! Well folks I'd like to say that I took it all like a champion of epic proportions but I'm sure the first person to comment would be my wife who would completely disagree. She would tell you that I cried like a baby, couldn't hold our newest son and constantly complained about my testicles day and night...well they did hurt you know!!
So, moving on to another sport, let's discuss the idea of moving...I'm sure by now that most of you are aware that the "lil miss'es" and I were planning on leaving this great land of Maryland to the land where a Republican vote actually counts and steak is not something you eat once in a while but is required by law at every meal. Well after much consideration we decided NOT to move!! Yes that's right, we're staying put. In short, here's what happened...
We looked at ALL the possibilities and decided that the best move for us would be to stay here. So we looked at keeping our townhouse (about 2 weeks to closing at this point) and did find a loophole. Not being very comfortable with that, we decided we wanted to leave anyway. So...we had all our furniture moved into storage and all of my true and faithful friends helped move all the heavy stuff! (of course they did ALL complain about moving all the stuff out of the attic!) Afterwards, we went to closing...which for the first time was actually quite painless. That was a Friday...so with a new apartment (6 days old) and a sold house (1 day old) what do we do...go house hunting! Saturday and Sunday...how painful! I don't think that my wife and I have fought more in a 48 hour period! By Sunday night we had made an offer (50K LESS, I mean it IS a buyer's market right??) and it was accepted!! Yes folks you read that right, within a 5 day span, we had moved, sold and bought another house!!
OK so lets just recap here...since we've been married, lets see it's been 3 years, we've bought and sold and bought a house, had two kids, gave away our dog, completed major construction on a house, wife has worked in 3 different schools, I've worked in 3 different positions, had a vasectomy, diabetes, got rid of diabetes, thought our son was autistic, went through months of therapy for him, gone through 3 day cares, moved our furniture twice, and threatened our entire family that we wanted to move 3 times out of the area! I think we've actually hit EVERY stress indicator there is!
Let's not forget that in the past 10 days I've found out that it's likely I'll be returning to patrol. In fact I just found out that my paltry 25K budget won't be renewed. But of course the Humane Society has spent over that ensuring that the Box Turtle is not displaced from their habitat because of the dreaded ICC. So turtles have a better budget to keep them safe than Alzheimer's and Autistic children!! Great just great...if there's a silver lining this is it...I did just get my new 2008Mad Max Dodge Charger...at least I can drive fast through those red light cameras!
Now if everything were to go according to plan, all I have to do is replace the idol with a bag of sand, avoid the big boulder only to have my prize taken by Belloch! (if you don't know this reference you don't deserve to ever see another movie or spend time with me again!) The real question remains...is the other shoe going to drop??
Showing posts with label vasectomy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label vasectomy. Show all posts
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
Monday, May 12, 2008
Violated
So, to begin this week's diatribe, let me begin by stating:
WARNING:
IF YOU DO NOT WISH TO EXPERIENCE VERBAL EXPLANATIONS OF A GRAPHIC NATURE, READ NO FURTHER...PROCEED AT YOUR OWN RISK!!
Still here? OK, don't say I didn't warn you!
So as most parents consider at one time or another, do we want to have more kids? It's a question of monumental importance, since, unless you're quite young, you do only have a reasonable amount of time to have children before the risks begin to get greater. (which of course begs the conversation that after 35 your risks increase, so why do so many celebrities have kids well into their 40's seemingly with no risks whatsoever...yet I digress)
Of course as a married couple you must engage in the debate as to whether we WANT more children, what the risks may involve, timing, can we afford such offspring, and in our case, the medical implications of pregnancy. Well over the past few months it had been decided that we were done. Not "done", like I just poked the chicken on the grill and its cooked (of course one could suggest that being done, our children have indeed "cooked" us-or at least my sanity and patience) We had just come to the conclusion that we had two beautifully wonderful children and we were done. Therefore, in order to avoid any "mistakes" we should look into a surgical solution. Now being the magnanimous husband I am, I would opt for the less surgical, invasive procedure, being the adjustment (read: cutting) of my first favorite little friend rather than my lovely wife going under the knife. (hey! I'm a poet and I don't even know it!)
Now for those of you who have never experienced going to a surgeon for something, they first must do a "consult". What this means is that you have to go and meet the doctor and let them talk you out of what you want. In truth, this is another reason to pay yet another co-pay. I'm not really against consults...I mean if I were to have a face lift, it would be an important thing...but for what I was wanting, what exactly do they need to consult-is there some confusion here?
So I enter the office, in uniform...and when I finally meet the doctor (40 minutes later of course) during his barrage of questioning, what does he ask me...so what do you do? Hmmm, this is a guy who has his medical license right?? I mean he has achieved the pinnacle of educational advancement...right? RIGHT?? Well, after discussing my job and of course the dangers (and injuries sustained) that go along with them, he makes a rather sad attempt to relate by looking at his right hand. I view his three fingers (pointer, middle and ring) which look rather disfigured and his one nail is completely black. He says "well, I understand about injuries, I broke my three fingers a few months ago)...again, he's the surgeon right, with three broken fingers...great, he probably operate and I'll walk out with an additional exit hole in my rear!!
Then the doctor says, OK well I need to do a cursory examination of you. Let's focus on that word for a minute...cursory. Meaning overview, not detailed. All right, I get that, get the once over, make sure there's nothing wrong under the hood, per se.
So after the initial unpleasantness, where apparently while he is "examining" me we're getting to "know each other"... a form of medical foreplay (he actually has me feel what he's going to cut...like I really need that!), the doc says to me" OK, now turn around, bend over and put your arms on the table. He says this as I observe him grab this tube of Costco-sized petroleum jelly. At first I think I'm in some weird universe...isn't it my job to tell someone to turn around and spread it??
Let me stop here and note...the etymology of the term "vasectomy" is broken down to "vas" and "ectomy"...as in the cutting of the vas-deferins. Now, lets review, nowhere in this etymology does it say, "stranger sticking his lubed finger in the out orifice".
Now you can only imagine what occurred next. (yes mom, I'll avoid the details just for you!) As I am experiencing this violation of epic proportions, all I have are visions of Chevy Chase in "Fletch" singing "Moon River". "Moooon River, Whew! Thanks doc, ever serve time?) What I wanted to say to this medical professional, was, "at least I thought I'd get a dinner out of this...do you have a cigarette?" (why is it the best, smart ass comments come to us later?!)
Well now having my innards poked and prodded, lets just say that the surgery is a go...(and yes, no unusual prostate surprises either! I AM only 34 you know!)
More later on the result...maybe I'll have some pictures, wouldn't that be fun!
WARNING:
IF YOU DO NOT WISH TO EXPERIENCE VERBAL EXPLANATIONS OF A GRAPHIC NATURE, READ NO FURTHER...PROCEED AT YOUR OWN RISK!!
Still here? OK, don't say I didn't warn you!
So as most parents consider at one time or another, do we want to have more kids? It's a question of monumental importance, since, unless you're quite young, you do only have a reasonable amount of time to have children before the risks begin to get greater. (which of course begs the conversation that after 35 your risks increase, so why do so many celebrities have kids well into their 40's seemingly with no risks whatsoever...yet I digress)
Of course as a married couple you must engage in the debate as to whether we WANT more children, what the risks may involve, timing, can we afford such offspring, and in our case, the medical implications of pregnancy. Well over the past few months it had been decided that we were done. Not "done", like I just poked the chicken on the grill and its cooked (of course one could suggest that being done, our children have indeed "cooked" us-or at least my sanity and patience) We had just come to the conclusion that we had two beautifully wonderful children and we were done. Therefore, in order to avoid any "mistakes" we should look into a surgical solution. Now being the magnanimous husband I am, I would opt for the less surgical, invasive procedure, being the adjustment (read: cutting) of my first favorite little friend rather than my lovely wife going under the knife. (hey! I'm a poet and I don't even know it!)
Now for those of you who have never experienced going to a surgeon for something, they first must do a "consult". What this means is that you have to go and meet the doctor and let them talk you out of what you want. In truth, this is another reason to pay yet another co-pay. I'm not really against consults...I mean if I were to have a face lift, it would be an important thing...but for what I was wanting, what exactly do they need to consult-is there some confusion here?
So I enter the office, in uniform...and when I finally meet the doctor (40 minutes later of course) during his barrage of questioning, what does he ask me...so what do you do? Hmmm, this is a guy who has his medical license right?? I mean he has achieved the pinnacle of educational advancement...right? RIGHT?? Well, after discussing my job and of course the dangers (and injuries sustained) that go along with them, he makes a rather sad attempt to relate by looking at his right hand. I view his three fingers (pointer, middle and ring) which look rather disfigured and his one nail is completely black. He says "well, I understand about injuries, I broke my three fingers a few months ago)...again, he's the surgeon right, with three broken fingers...great, he probably operate and I'll walk out with an additional exit hole in my rear!!
Then the doctor says, OK well I need to do a cursory examination of you. Let's focus on that word for a minute...cursory. Meaning overview, not detailed. All right, I get that, get the once over, make sure there's nothing wrong under the hood, per se.
So after the initial unpleasantness, where apparently while he is "examining" me we're getting to "know each other"... a form of medical foreplay (he actually has me feel what he's going to cut...like I really need that!), the doc says to me" OK, now turn around, bend over and put your arms on the table. He says this as I observe him grab this tube of Costco-sized petroleum jelly. At first I think I'm in some weird universe...isn't it my job to tell someone to turn around and spread it??
Let me stop here and note...the etymology of the term "vasectomy" is broken down to "vas" and "ectomy"...as in the cutting of the vas-deferins. Now, lets review, nowhere in this etymology does it say, "stranger sticking his lubed finger in the out orifice".
Now you can only imagine what occurred next. (yes mom, I'll avoid the details just for you!) As I am experiencing this violation of epic proportions, all I have are visions of Chevy Chase in "Fletch" singing "Moon River". "Moooon River, Whew! Thanks doc, ever serve time?) What I wanted to say to this medical professional, was, "at least I thought I'd get a dinner out of this...do you have a cigarette?" (why is it the best, smart ass comments come to us later?!)
Well now having my innards poked and prodded, lets just say that the surgery is a go...(and yes, no unusual prostate surprises either! I AM only 34 you know!)
More later on the result...maybe I'll have some pictures, wouldn't that be fun!
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