Trying to decide on a vasectomy? Don’t ask a man

Hammer and eggs There’s a scene in the movie “Jaws” where the Mayor of Amity Island explains how yelling the word “BARRACUDA” won’t get much reaction on a crowded beach. “But if you yell ‘SHARK’ you’ll have a panic on your hands…”

Keeping that in mind, you’ll have some idea of the reaction you get from most men if you change “shark” to “vasectomy.” This was the first word out of my radio this morning. And yes, it caught my attention. Apparently, March is the busiest month for vasectomies — and tomorrow is the busiest day of the year for this procedure.

Maybe it’s a result of March Madness compromises reached between husbands and wives, or a subconscious tribute to the start of baseball season. Whatever the reason, when I had mine 10 years ago, it was also in March. The decision had nothing to do with basketball or baseball, and everything to do with weeks of campaigning from my ex-wife.

Because she had a degree in social work, my ex-wife was trained on how to approach sensitive subject matter. That’s why I was allowed to discover, with no pressure from her whatsoever, that my new place mat at the dinner table was actually a medical brochure titled:

So, You Want To Have a Vasectomy?

True, we had talked about this subject before.

Twice, actually; during the birth of each of our two children. I don’t remember the exact conversations. But, on both occasions, I do recall the doctor informing her that, as far as he was concerned, the umbilical cord was the only thing we’d be snipping that day. The topic also came up when we had our dog neutered. Again, because of my ex-wife’s education and training, she avoided pressuring me and took a more subtle approach by calling our dog “Ned” for a week.

After breakfast one morning, during which I watched her repeatedly crack two eggs together and then scrambled them — one pair at a time — in a flaming skillet, it became clear that the subject of a vasectomy needed to be addressed. So, after breakfast, we sat down together and discussed the issue like adults.

We went over the information carefully.

We educated ourselves on the mechanics of the procedure.

We weighed the pros and cons.

Then, together, we joined hands and pried my knees apart so I could drive to work.

To help ease my fears, she suggested I talk to other men who have had the procedure done.

This makes perfect sense if you’re a woman.

That’s because women are educated about their bodies while men, according to a recent study conducted by the American Medical Association, are “complete morons concerning their anatomy.” Keep in mind that some have argued the study was inconclusive since researchers openly admitted their interviews “were continually being interrupted by laughter and fart sounds.”

This isn’t to say getting a man to discuss the details of his vasectomy is difficult. What’s difficult is getting him to explain it in a way that doesn’t scare the pants off of you — which, of course, is his main objective. This tradition has been passed down through the years as an “unofficial” initiation rite in this “unofficial” club to which, officially speaking, no one really wants to be a member. In terms of membership enthusiasm, I’m guessing it runs neck-and-neck with The Hair Club for Men.

On the other hand, there are plenty of valid reasons to have this procedure done, each of which should be listed on a sheet of paper. Bring this list with you on the day of your surgery. That way, when you see the surgical knives and forget who you are, you’ll at least have a way of remembering why you are there.

And if you happen to forget your list, don’t worry; chances are your wife can recite it for you.

From memory.

In the form of a rap song if necessary.

The day of my vasectomy, I just kept telling myself that thousands of these procedures are performed every day. In the rare instance that something goes wrong, such as the loss of my manhood, the odds of my survival were very high. Certainly higher than if I tried escaping the doctor’s office without getting the procedure done at all.

So, to all of you men who will be visiting Dr. Snippit tomorrow, I raise my glass to you.


On the rocks, of course.

(You can write to Ned Hickson at, or at Siuslaw News at P.O. Box 10, Florence, OR. 97439)

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Ned's Blog

I was a journalist, humor columnist, writer and editor at Siuslaw News for 23 years. The next chapter in my own writer’s journey is helping other writers prepare their manuscript for the road ahead. I'm married to the perfect woman, have four great kids, and a tenuous grip on my sanity...

11 thoughts on “Trying to decide on a vasectomy? Don’t ask a man”

  1. We had that discussion. I decided we should put that decision off for a few years longer. It’s not just men who are scared of the idea!

          1. LOL – You do know that is a cartoon image and not the ‘real me’, right?

            Oo er, imagine that. It would be like living with Jessica Rabbit.
            Which I suspect he, and many other men, would not object to.

            1. WHAT?!…. of course. LOL! Still, if that time ever comes, unless you look more like Eddie Rabbit instead of Jessica, stay away from the nurse outfit until he has healed. Just sayin.’ 🙂

  2. my aussie son-in-law had one that ‘took a bit of a bad turn’ as they put it, and he was banned from talking to the other men in my daughter’s book club about it

  3. I had mine on that day years ago too. In all honesty it’s awesome planning because the procedure is super quick and you are instructed to lay (can’t sit of course) on the sofa for the better part of a few days without straining. So, why not start it on day 1 of March Madness when you can literally watch ball (ha get it) for a few days all day.

    1. Makes perfect sense, and solves the mystery of “Why March?” The weird thing is, if two guys made that plan so they could sit on the coach watching games together for a few days after their vasectomies, it just sounds weird. Take away the vasectomy part, and it’s not weird at all. Just thinking out loud… with my half-and-half coffee.

No one is watching, I swear...

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