V-Day -The Crotch of The Matter

Well. Today’s the day. Vasectomy city here we come. “Chop chop, come on get a move on” says my wife this morning to the kids. Ambitiously, I set about the morning duty as breakfast maker. I was so looking forward to my single allowable slice of toast and one cup of tea. Mmmmm. I scraped a thin film of vegemite over the surface of my lightly toasted wholegrain bread. Right now I am listening to Tina Turner’s ‘What You Get Is What You See.’ Something I wouldn’t normally admit to. But today is different: mainly because I wouldn’t normally subject myself to scrotal severance either. But There must be a light at the end of the tunnel. Perhaps there’s no pot of gold at the end of the proverbial rainbow, but there is hope that what I will undertake will be just, and uncomplicated. Today, I don my Superman underwear as a symbolic gesture of strength. I just hope that the surgeon is not from planet krypton.

Breakfast that I had at 7.00am is wearing thin. God I’m hungry already and its only 9.00am! Last night at the Final Supper, I was treated to roasted chicken and vegetables by my lovely, sexy and talented wife Amber. She does an incredible job really, considering her other responsibilities. She even finds time to listen to my whinging and whining occasionally. So a lovely roast dinner washed down with a Grolsch and followed soon thereafter by some scrumptious homemade apple pie topped with freshly milked and whipped cream… Ok I must confess- it was Safeway apple pie with week old Safeway ‘lite’ cream, but yummy nonetheless.

So here I sit in contemplation once again, with Bob Marley bopping away in the background. God its gonna be an interesting day. My mother informed me last night that she was violently ill years ago when she underwent surgery. “It was that dreaded anaesthetic” she explained. Wow, perhaps this is relevant I thought. I wish I had known this whilst filling in the hospital admittance papers. I could have sworn that there was something about anaesthetic written in there… Like ‘do any of your relatives have allergic reactions to anaesthetic?’ Luckily, I find out that she is the only one and it may not be a problem after all. I sincerely hope not. “Thanks Mum” I confusedly replied. I think I’ll go now. “Well have a nice day tomorrow” she says as I hop into my little silver car. My brain went horribly numb at that moment. Perhaps its in preparation for the General anaesthetic. Perhaps its just because I am thinking about all of this stuff too damn much??? Mental overload or something? Geeeees, I hope these Superman Jocks do so some good!

Wish me luck!