Why I Had The Snip

Cross your legs gents and kid yourself that this is never going to happen to you.
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There is no denying that I had saved the world.

Having a vasectomy was sure to put the world’s population numbers on a plateau. You can all thank me later because right now I’m dealing with something of a growing problem. Anyone who has read my blog, followed me on Twit’n’Facebonk will know the operation was a flawless success. Going in with eyes wide shut and outstanding naivety had paid off massively. However, rescuing mankind it would seem was not without its cost.

Becoming a jaffa can result in more than just losing your pips. Post Vasectomy Pain (PVP) and infections are the biggest nut-aches. There are other possible ‘complications’ as well such as scrotal hematomas or allergic reaction to the chromic acid in the stitches. It’s well worth reading about…after you’ve had it done.

My little swimmers can give David Walliams a run for his money and they were none too pleased at being told they couldn’t go on the tube slide anymore. They aren’t suited to a life in the shallow end so they're taking their revenge.

I won’t mention the oozing around the stitches, it was just too gross.

In my case Day +12 was where the fun began. From nowhere I started to get plumpain on a par with giving birth to twin Zepplins. There was also a swelling in my pants, and not the good kind! The swelling briefly looked like a third love spud and I considered what it would be like to have trip-locks. A third more testosterone would get me kicked out of the Tour De France so it’s a blooming good thing I’m not a pro-cyclist. I decided that no good can come from having tiddlies that resemble a New Delhi train during rush hour and that I should probably get help or something. I won’t mention the oozing around the stitches, it was just too gross. The awesome Dr. M who had performed the surgery agreed to see them for a second time. His bravery was made even more impressive when you factor in the appointment time was after lunch. After a quick fondle he concluded that I had an infected man udder. He also suggested taking the stitches out. I agreed because apart from having a slowly inflating space hopper in my scrotum “all looked good”. Putting them in didn’t hurt, why would taking them out be any different?


Naivety it would appear only works pre-op. It smarted a bit I can tell you but I’m glad he did because within minutes the vast majority of the pain had gone. Vanished like the prospect of becoming a daddy again. He made out a prescription for some anti-bi-ollocks and I was away at the speed of a legless sloth.

Space is still at a premium ‘downstairs’ but at least it doesn’t hurt anymore. I will just have to wait for the drugs to kick in and the swelling to unswell. I've single handedly halted the population growth, there’s no way I’m gonna let my plums fill the void!

To be continued...(hopefully not)

You can follow Eddie on twitter @dawonderful

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