Today's Adventure

Ok, so this post contains slightly mature subject matter. I would rate it PG-13. Well, since I don't have pictures, (dang!), it might only be PG. OK, you've all been warned.

Today, Andrew had his surgery at Scary Davis Hospital, and so far, he has not contracted an infection, so he might not die after all. Considering the area that was operated on, let's all hope he doesn't get one, cause it'd be a shame to have to amputate... Well, I'm getting ahead of myself. Here is a very basic rundown of the events that led up to today:

December 15th, 2008: Andrew had vasectomy at a family practice, performed by a doctor, (using the term loosely), who claimed to have done them before.

3 hours into vasectomy, Andrew having felt everything and me completely nauseated from watching it, the "doctor" gave up on finding the second vas claiming that there was too much scar tissue.

Several weeks ago, I began receiving covert, spy-type information that the vasectomy done by Doctor A-hole, (sorry, I really can't think of a better word), was his first and that he had read a book the weekend before Andrew came in so he'd know what to do, then came into his office Monday morning asking what instruments to use. There were a bunch of other shady things that the doc apparently did, but suffice it to say that after hearing everything, we became concerned that there was permanent damage done. (Andrew had still been having pain, and it's been 6 months since the butchering took place.)

Andrew found a painful lump in his scrotum, (many apologies for the visual that many of you surely just had), and became concerned enough to not wait anymore to go to a Urologist.

Long story short, today the urologist re-did the vasectomy and removed a cyst from a huge amount of scar tissue. The competent doctor also admitted that it looked to him like there was no scar tissue at all prior to the original procedure. So why did original doctor claim to be unable to find the second vas due to all the scar tissue that was actually not there? That's what we'd like to know, too. Most disappointing part of the day, disturbing revelations about Doctor A-Hole aside, was that Andrew did not make stupid jokes and embarrass himself while coming out of anesthesia. I was really looking forward to some material to harrass him about for a while. Oh well.

So tonight, Andrew is sleeping peacefully, although very swollen, from all the digging to get the cyst out. He will hopefully wake up in the morning, his birthday, feeling fabulous and very sterile. Please, please, please, very sterile. Guess we'll know in a few months. Until then, let us all learn from mine and Andrew's mistakes.

Lesson number one - don't let a family doc mess with your manhood.

Lesson number two - if family doc, or any doc for that matter, is still trying to save his bacon after three hours of torture and experimentation on your loved ones, make them stop. Actually, make them stop a lot sooner than that.

Lesson number three - If ever your husband is going to be wearing a paper gown, remember to bring a camera.