Katherine and I had been sitting in the waiting room for what felt like an eternity, and there were not even any other patients. We both assumed that whatever was keeping the doctor occupied must have been important, given that it was already fairly late in the afternoon. It seemed likely that we would be the last customers of the day. Katherine was by my side on a wooden chair, scrolling through her phone while trying to pass time.
Of course, it was much easier for her to stay composed, since I was the one to be undergoing the surgery today. Yes, I understand that a vasectomy is just a minor snip, but I couldn't help feeling anxious about it. It's still quite a major decision for my future and having my testicles cut with a blade wasn't exactly an inviting concept. On the flipside, we knew it was for a good reason. Katherine and I were determined to not bring any children into this world, so what better way to enjoy our honeymoon than without having to be concerned about birth control?
We eventually decided that the procedure should be done a few weeks prior to our wedding day. Dr. Smith had outlined the preparation strategy for us during the consultation and also reassured us that it wouldn't take very long; around half an hour he said. The most difficult part of the process would be to tie up the spermatic cord, which links my testicles to my urethra.
Afterwards I would have to wear a special type of protective underwear and abstain from sexual activity for two weeks until everything was healed and back to normal. About a month later, they would check my ejaculate for sperm count. If the results were successful, we would be ready just in time for our wedding and honeymoon. While it was not ideal, it really wasn't too hard to deal with overall.
But my nervousness was not going away. The procedure was also quite expensive, and we were already operating on a tight budget since Katherine had lost her job and I was still in school. We were truly blessed that Katherine's aunt had offered to cover our financial obligations. She was quite vocal about the decision of her choosing not to have children, and when we shared how we too didn't want children, she was overjoyed.
Finally, the kind nurse called us and lead us to the surgery room. The room itself had a sterile air to it that only made my nerves spike up even more. Everything had been thoroughly disinfected and all the tools neatly laid out on trays with surgical gloves placed delicately at the side of each instrument.
The nurse, introducing herself as Mia, confirmed that we were there for a vasectomy today. I could feel that she was nervous, but trying to hide the fact. Katherine was offered a chair to sit down while we waited for the doctor. Mia then addressed me and asked me to get undressed and handed me a hospital gown to put on. I could feel my heart racing in anticipation of the procedure, but I knew that there was no turning back now. Mia must have noticed my anxiety, but she didn't seem to know how to respond, so she just assured me again that the doctor must be here any minute now to answer any questions I might have.
I couldn't help but notice Mia's youth; it was apparent that she must had recently graduated from school and immediately after taken on this role as a nurse, and the lack of experience in her demeanour was evident. She seemed quite nervous while conversing with us, as if unsure of herself with every word she spoke. It was almost like she had to second-guess what to say at all times or pause before responding to make sure it came out right.
The room was extremely clinical and the gynological chair unsurprisingly took up the majority of the space. There was a small privacy screen in the corner that Mia had gestured towards for me to get changed behind. I couldn't help but find it ironic that I was asked to get undressed behind a screen, after all, they'd certainly see me completely naked relatively shortly when I went in for surgery.
I step behind the privacy screen and begin to undress. Just as I emerge now dressed in the flimsy hospital gown, the doctor enters the room accompanied by another nurse. To my shock, it's not Doctor Smith who had attended to us during our previous appointment. This new doctor, she was a tall and slender woman, with shoulder length brown hair and thick-framed glasses perched upon the bridge of her nose. She introduced herself as Dr. Maverick and informed me that she would be performing my vasectomy today and asked if I had any questions or concerns.
I couldn't think of any questions as I was still occupied with thinking about the turn of events. Dr. Maverick was no more than 35 years old, accompanied by two young nurses - a far cry from the older man I had expected to be my guide through this delicate procedure. I felt a wave of uneasiness wash over me at the thought of three strange women touching my groin, especially with Katherine in the room. In my moment of discomfort, I still manage to steal a far-away glance at Katherine and can tell that she is trying to suppress her feelings about what is happening by keeping her face expressionless. Deep down inside, though, I imagine that she wasn't too pleased with the idea of there being three females operating closely on her husband's crotch area.