“you can’t unring a bell”

that’s what I thought
when I woke up
March 10, 1986

I was scheduled
to have a vasectomy
that afternoon at 2

I was keeping my part
of the unspoken agreement
I had made
with the crazy blonde woman
with whom I had an abortion
on the day before
Valentine’s Day

the abortion was
by mutual consent
but the vasectomy
was a unilateral decision

I decided that
to ensure I would
never impregnate
another woman again
I would get snipped.

Being an intelligent
and rational young man
I researched it thoroughly
before this decision

at that time
I was 22 and
most men defaulted
to their partner’s
birth control method
of choice

how predictably
and unimaginatively
male
I would be different
so I decided
to get the big snip snip

but secretly
there was something else
driving this decision:
I was deathly afraid
of getting the wrong woman
pregnant
and being forever trapped
looking every bit
the prisoner
with the wrong woman
pushing our baby carriage
chained to my ankle.

Before the clinic would
honor my request
and since I was so young
and had never fathered any children
I had to get counseling

at the clinic I was asked
“are you sure you want
to do this?”
“it can’t be reversed easily, you know”

I was old enough to get drafted
into a war Reagan was threatening
to start
and two months away from
completing my college education
and responsible enough
to endure the emotional maelstrom
of an abortion ,
but still the nurse asked
“are you sure you want to do this?”

I tried not to be insulted.

On the day of the procedure
I arrived at the doctor’s

and sooner than I realized
I was naked in the back office
changing into a paper gown

I laid down on the examining table
looking up and
counting the holes in the ceiling tiles
out of nervousness

and then someone came in
and I didn’t even look
and he announced that he
was going to administer
the local anesthesia

I tried not to think about it
as I could see him reaching
for my crotch
he tore a small perfect square
from my paper gown
to isolate my genitals
for the treatment

and his self-assurance
and precision
put me at ease

then

I saw the needle
and felt a rush of heat in my forehead
and then soft warm fingers
gently moved my penis
to the side
and before I could register
the strangeness of the moment
I felt the pinprick
on my right ball

my eyes widened
and I breathed deep

then he left
and I realized
“this is really happening”

I propped myself up
on my elbows
and looked at my package
laying there
groggy and limp
surrounded by a
white paper gown field

“look what we got ourselves into”
I thought,
“but at least we’re never
going to get another woman pregnant”
“no broad’s ever gonna trap us with a kid”

I smiled
there’s something about being
the master of my own destiny
no matter how small
that was empowering
and calming

when Dr. Montgomery came in
we talked as he cut
and he described everything
he was doing
and asked me about myself
and I told him
I wanted to be a comedian
(which was true)
and I got so relaxed
that I even told him some jokes
(which in retrospect
I realize was dangerous
when someone is using
a scalpel near your genitals)

and then it was all over
all my worrying about being trapped
all my guilt about the abortion

my nuts ached for three days after
but I took it in stride
because I had done the right thing

getting a vasectomy
made me feel more like a man
than getting laid did.