Snuff It #3
In the spring of 1978 I had a vasectomy, basically because (1) I did not
want to father a child, (2) I wanted consequence-free sex, and (3) I was
tired of using condoms. I just wanted to slip it in, come, and forget it.
[sounds familiar... -Ed.] If you got a rash from a partner, you got a shot
(two if the disease strain was from southeast asia) and that was it. At
that time herpes and genital warts were the only specifically sexually
transmitted diseases that were incurable, and while they were inconvenient,
they were not deadly.
Twice before I had had girlfriends who had been "late."
Initially I had some "warm and fuzzy" feelings about it. Luckily
the women menstruated and I came to my senses, seeing this for the sick
and twisted thinking it was. I did not want the responsibility, I don't
like kids, and wouldn't be a good parent. Also I realized on a rational
level the consequences to the Earth, and it was no burden to do my bit.
The vasectomy was done on an out-patient basis at Harvard Community Health.
Before the procedure my girlfriend and I were interviewed by the surgeon.
This was done to ensure that our motivation was appropriate. It was a short
meeting. We convinced him we were rational people who didn't want to be
parents. Of course, I didn't ask him why the health plan didn't interview
aspiring parents to check their suitability. Maybe I didn't think of it.
As I recall, the procedure was performed on a Friday morning, so that I
could recover over the weekend. I shaved my genitals the evening before. A
local anesthetic was used. The same surgeon who had interviewed me performed
the vasectomy. He was a youngish, gray-haired Irishman who tried to talk
sports while working, but I was trying to read to keep my mind off the
procedure. I did not look, as blood, particularly my own, distresses me,
never mind the tubes and stuff down there. He had some trouble locating the
tubes on one side, and had to hurry to finish up the second side before the
anesthetic wore off. A probing sensation was all I noticed. It didn't hurt
with any intensity, but I do remember that one of my balls became swollen to
three times its normal size. The other one, at least relatively, seemed
normal. The only serious pain I recall was the first time I came after the
operation. I was advised to wait three days before sex, which advice, my
eyes on my swollen ball, I adhered to. The pain was a sharp defined sensation
in one ball that soon receded. Overall I was mostly stiff and mildly sore.
In a couple of weeks, I felt normal.
As far as long term effects, I have not seen any increase or decrease in
my sex drive. Psychologically, I might be more relaxed in a situation where
pregnancy could occur. The only physical difference I have noticed is the
color of my dried come. Before, if I missed a spot cleaning up, it tended
to dry yellow; any spots I find now seem to be clearer.
In ancient times
a Kalapuya lay
in a grove of alder trees
near the forking of the Santiam
and dreamt a most unusual dream.
When he awoke at night
he told the people:
"The earth beneath our feet
was completely black,
in my dream."
No one was able to say
what that signified,
that dream of our green earth--
so we forgot it.
But then the Whites came
those farmers hard as iron,
and we saw how they tore open the earth with the plough
the little prairies beside the Santiam.
And we knew
that we were to be a part of their dream
their dream of an earth
made black forever
by the wounding plough.
-The Voice of the Great Spirit: Prophecies of the Hopi Indians by Rudolf
index #3 ·