If you’re not keen on discussions of medical procedures, stop reading now…
The decision to do it was pretty easy. First, Kath and I had decided long ago that we wanted two children; that goal was reached with the arrival of Kameron in December. Second, neither one of us was keen to go through another experience like the two losses we had in 2004.
I won’t say I wasn’t anxious about doing it. I mean, it’s a conscious decision to prevent your body from continued participation in “survival of the species” — one of the fundamental drives of organisms on the planet. As today got closer the voice of base-of-the-brain-me got louder and louder.
The actual procedure was about as painless as anything involving your body and a scalpel can be. I had the opportunity to experience stirrups for the first time, which was interesting. Two injections of local anesthetic and we were off. The doc started the first incision a little early, but other than that, she did a great job.
Yup, you read that right. The last sentence in the last paragraph reads “she did a great job”. And I did consider whether I wanted a man or a woman to perform the procedure. After all, a man might (indeed, should) be more familiar with the equipment, right?
I saw two potential problems with that familiarity. First, that familiarity might breed a cavalier attitude toward the whole thing which frankly I wasn’t keen to have in someone holding a sharp knife down there. My other thought was that, knowing first hand the sensitivity of both the physical and psychological regions the procedure involves, the doctor might be a little jittery–a trait I’m not keen to have in people with sharp knives near any part of my body, let alone that one.
So anyhow, I chose a woman, and now I’m at home resting surprisingly comfortably propped up in my bed. 600mg of ibuprofen has been able to handle the pain so far, and I obviously feel well enough to blog.
All in all, not to terrible so far. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go ice the boys down.