I had a doctor called Dr. Joseph. He was straight talking, smooth-sailing, and a guy who knew what he was doing to say the least. This made me feel pretty confident about him taking my manhood. So to start with, I stood on a stool, with my balls hanging out free as a bird. The doctor then knelt down and held my manhood in his palm. He made eye-contact the whole time, and I couldn’t help but notice his soft, brown eyes. This is supposed to make the whole thing feel natural, but in all honesty, the only person to touch me like that in the last 20 years has been my wife, and even she likes to turn the lights off. He then told me where I needed to shave prior to the surgery, and that was that.

Flash-forward to the surgery.

There I am, spread-eagle on the table with my manhood dangling, clinging for dear-life. They talked me through everything, but I won’t bore you with the details. The next thing that they said to me was whether I wanted to listen to Elton John, or the works of Beethoven.


I thought to myself, I’m going to remember whatever song comes on for the rest of my life. I’m also going to associate that song with my vasectomy. So I went with Elton John. I thought his voice might soothe me through this difficult time.

“I Guess That’s Why They Call It The Blues”

All I could think of is the blue balls I’m going to have at the end of this surgery.

But in all seriousness, the whole thing happened without a problem. Sure I felt tugging, pressure, etc. No pain as such though, the doctors were super nice and talked to me throughout. The music made time pass faster and my wife even took me for ice-cream after.

Sure- I felt as though I was a kid coming out of his yearly jab with a lollypop, but I spent the whole week watching Netflix, eating ice-cream and having people run after me.

It was awesome. If I could do it again, I would.