On Tuesday, I had an appointment with a urologist. For years now, I've been interested in getting a vasectomy. I have no desire to be a father, to have a family, to be tied down, to contribute in bringing another person into this fucked world we know. I have no desire for any of it...
So I'm at this appointment, and the doctor is asking me about why I want this vasectomy so badly. He asks me, "What if you fall in love with some girl in the future and she wants to have kids?". I almost wanted to laugh at how unrealistic that sounded, but I didn't. I tried to play it off as if it were a scenario that was actually possible for me. After asking me some other things about my parents and siblings, etc, he told me he'd do the procedure from a business standpoint, but he doesn't recommend it for me. I understand his concern, but I'm not an idiot. I can make my own decisions.
During the consultation, the likeliness arises that I may not even be able to have kids in the first place, in which case, I obviously wouldn't even need the procedure done. This possibility gave me some very strong mixed feelings. On one hand, it's ideal. I'd know once and for all that I will never be knocking anyone up and will never be responsible for a kid I don't want. On the other hand, it would mean that all the time I had spent thinking about it in the past was completely unnecessary because it was never in my control to begin with. So it was suggested that I have a test done to check my fertility. We made a plan to get this test done over the weekend and to schedule a follow-up appointment next Wednesday to discuss the results.
Today rolls around. Time to get this test taken care of and over with. So what do I have to do? I have to come up with a sperm sample in a cup they gave me and deliver it to hospital lab in a different town within an hour. This is not exactly a fun thing to do.
So I do what I have to and drive to the hospital. I walked through the emergency entrance, just as I was instructed, and proceed to check in with staff. After a few minutes of answering demographic questions, I am finally given directions to the lab upstairs. All the while, I'm carrying around a bag full of embarrassment... and there are other patients around. I find my way to the lab, just in time for my sample to still be good (within one hour). In the waiting room, there is a couple and their baby, waiting to be helped. A lady comes out to the main desk and asks me what I need. I tell her I'm here to just drop off a sample, and I show her my paperwork. She looks at me with confusion and tells me, "Oh, we don't do that here anymore." She continues to tell me how they only do testing for POST-vasectomy samples, and that I need to go to some other hospital. Then she asks me when I "collected" the sample (keep in mind this other couple is right behind me the whole time). I tell her it's been within an hour and that I was told to bring it here. She apologizes but continues to insist that they "don't do that anymore". By this point, I was entirely pissed off. Here I am, embarrassing the hell out of myself carrying around a sample that is outdating itself minute-by-minute, and it turns out it was all for nothing because they can't help me where I was told to go.
So I went back downstairs and talked to the ER people that had checked me in earlier and let them know about the situation. They exchanged puzzled and surprised looks and offered to call a few places to find out where I should take the sample. I told them thanks, but that there's really no point anymore because it won't be any good anyway by the time I find out where I'm supposed to really go. I told them I'll just have to talk to the urologist's office again and let them know that they sent me to the wrong place. And of course this entire time, it's not like I was completely embarrassed or anything. *note the intense sarcasm* It seems I'll get to go through it all once more. And to top it all off, I made the entire trip for nothing and my gas tank was running on empty... with hardly any money to buy more with.
Now I have to find some time on Monday to get ahold of that office, tell them what's going on, reschedule the follow-up appointment, tell my boss that I'll need to change my appointment... and who the hell even knows where I'll have to take a new sample...
Aside from this whole episode, I went out for a couple drinks last night. As usual, nobody even talked to me. As usual, I felt completely irrelevant. Like a burden. A waste of a clean glass. An inconvenience using up perfectly good oxygen. It's not the Jack & Coke that makes me feel this way. It's everything else.
And tonight, of course, instead of going out again (I'm broke. And besides, what's really the point anyway?), I'm home alone spending my prime Saturday night hours writing in this stupid fucking blog that doesn't matter or contribute to the world in any positive way whatsoever. I'll be working most of Sunday, so I'm not really looking forward to that either. Then I still have all the shit next week to dread...
Sometimes I really wonder if I should just put a fucking bullet in my head. I might finally have piece of mind. (Pun not intended)