Here’s the rest of the story, continued from Bad Vasectomy Complications Part 1

….Click to Play….
VasectomyI manage to make it home relatively unscathed. I get home, put my feet up on the couch, and apply frozen peas to the affected area. Turns out they’re therapeutic- kinda like tiny ice cubes to keep down swelling. Handmaidens for your nuts. So far so good, everything appears to still be attached. I get a call from my buddy wanting to go play racquetball. Remembering the guy running a marathon after his surgery, I put him off for a couple of days, hell this is easy. He wants to know why I can’t go- suddenly I’m in a Tampax commercial. Oh sure, I’d like to run and play, but I just can’t. Why not? I just can’t. You ever feel less than fresh? Shit, next thing you know we’ll be walking down talking about how everyone feels that way. Shudder. I claimed a pulled muscle (well it’s pulled by the wife once in while…tadump dump…), and get out of the court date.

The rest of the evening passes uneventfully, I go to bed- leaving the peas by the side of bed. I even leave my running shoes out- just in case I wake up early and want to use them. I dream I’m a boxer. Big match in Madison Square Garden. Theme from Rocky blares from the speakers. I walk down the aisle, looking like a Greek God chiseled out of marble. My opponent? Mr T. – back in the day, when he was one big bad ass. So we’re mixing it up, and I’m doing well. Kicking Mr. T’s ass. Suddenly things start to go south. He gets me in a corner- a left, a right, and then BOOM! Mr T punches me square in the balls. Not a little below the belt, oh no, dead center right in the jewels. Except it’s not a dream. I’ve just taken a mach 3 shot directly to downtown Testiculusa. I’d like to say I woke up sweating, and that was the end of it, but at that point the scars of my childhood came back to haunt me.

Most Effective Birth ControlSee when I was a little kid I used to have nightmares. I used to wake up yelling and sit up in bed. So my Dad, God love him, put up a shelf. Directly over my headboard. I did the sit up in bed thing maybe once more. After that, problem solved. Ah- the good ole days of parenting. Anyway, I’ve learned to unconsciously roll out of bed when I wake up suddenly. Except as I was still asleep, I put my foot on the pea bag, slipped twisted and dropped myself on my ass next to the bed. Except my balls, which landed on my sideways running shoe.

This sent a brand new and different wave of pain through my tortured gonads. Every feel pain so bad you see colors? I’m looking at kaleidoscope on the ceiling. I’m normally a pretty stoic guy, I’ve broken bones before and I don’t turn into a crying mass of jelly. So I’m not sure what it was my wife heard- she said it sounded like an girl scout troop in a haunted house, but I’m sure that was her imagination. She flips on the light, I stagger to my feet. “My GOD, you’re huge!” she exclaims. “Yeah baby, I know, but we have to wait a couple of days before you meet Mr. Goodcock again.” She gives me that you’re an idiot look again, but I don’t catch it. “You have big balls” “Yeah baby, I know you want me…”, I say as she drinks in the magic that is me. “No moron, look down.” What. The. Hell.

We’ve secretly replaced Will’s testicles with two tennis balls. Let’s see if he notices…. ARRGH! Yes, yes he does. Nine out of ten men notice when their gonads inflate like beach balls… Shit, this is not good. There are more peas in the fridge downstairs. Stairs- just what everyone needs at 3am. At this point I think I can reconstruct what happened, although at the time all I remember is that pain made me its bitch.

We have a Basset Hound. It’s early, we’re both half asleep. As I’m going down that stairs looking for the icy caress of a frozen pea bag, he’s thinking about taking care of some business of his own in the backyard. We both start down the stairs at the same time- side by side. We’ve done this particular maneuver dozens of times in the past. Now Bassets have long ears- and they hang down. Well he wasn’t paying attention and I was more than little distracted. He just have stepped on his own ear. Of course that hurts, so he pulls back, his weight is on his ear, so that really hurts. He doesn’t know what the hell is happening, so he jerks left, his ear comes loose, and he hits me in the right knee with all the force his little doggy body can muster. I’m in between steps, and the next thing I know I see stairs…ceiling…my balls…stairs…ceiling… stars. I bang my knee, ass, shoulder, elbow and head. Fortunately I didn’t slam my tortured nuts. Oh, but I forgot, God hates me. That last thing I remember is the Basset, tumbling down the stairs. He manages to catch himself at the bottom of the stairs, by firmly planting both front feet- on my nads. The girl scouts apparently made another appearance, and my lovely wife could barely get down the stairs she was laughing so hard. I spent the next 3 days on the couch- with my life partner the frozen pea bag. I didn’t run any marathons either.

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"Bad Vasectomy Complications Continued – Funny Story" by was published on February 17th, 2008 and is listed in Funny, Funny Stories.

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Comments on "Bad Vasectomy Complications Continued – Funny Story": 3 Comments

  1. Steve wrote,

    Laughed so hard I almost cried – great story – you are a natural writer – keep it up!

  2. Joann wrote,

    I really want to share your story with my husband because of the humor but I don’t want to scare him off the idea of getting it done. I will definately share it with my friends!

  3. Pit wrote,

    Joann-

    Glad you liked it, and I’m fine now. Just make sure your husband discusses complications thoroughly with the Dr- mine conveniently didn’t mention any and I thought I would have been jogging home from the surgery…

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