I’m Having a Vasectomy and am Feeling All The Things
I’m about to cross another one of life’s thresholds
I’m having parts of my anatomy operated on that I never wanted to have operated on. I’m having a vasectomy today, and I’m having all the feelings. Feelings of inevitability, of mortality, of age creeping into my life right under my nose.
It feels weird to be the same age as old people, but here we are. I often look at people and wonder how they got so old, forgetting that I’ve aged just as much as they have.
I’m also suffering from an undercurrent of anxiety about having someone get extremely up close and personal with parts of me that I’ve been driven to protect reflexively.
When you tell people you’re having a vasectomy, they all have their own stories. It’s not unlike when I had hernia surgery. Everyone I talked to suddenly had a story about a hernia repair. “Uncle Frank had both of his repaired in the 80s when they used to use ether to knock people out. Then they patched him with duct tape and he was good as new!” Using the word “repair” feels mechanical. Like I’m having my muffler repaired or something. I mean, they had to put a patch in there to keep my guts from spilling out, so I guess I am now repaired. Put me in, coach.
