The smug doctor had said to wait three months and then come through for a deposit BEFORE thinking we were home and dry.
We did the first part, (mostly), and then started to get a little reckless and careless after the three month mark without going through for an actual check.
I mean he said to wait three months, and three months had passed.
And then my wife got very bad morning sickness symptoms.
Very bad.
We had a complete sense of humour failure.
Fingers were pointed. Blame was allocated.
We were gobsmacked and rushed off to get pregnancy tests.
It all felt like Déjà vu. Bad Déjà vu.
Creative excuses were prepared for family and friends.
An agonising 24 hours later we breathed a massive sign of relief. It had just been very bad flu-like symptoms.
But that was that. Test or celibacy.
(I think she was in favour of the celibacy thing,although I might just have been being sensitive)
My wife's sensitive parting words as I headed through to the hospital for the test were along the lines of, "Don't come home to produce a sample and then drive all the way back through again, its a waste of petrol, just do it there. For Pete's sake, don't be a wuss about it, it's no big deal."
Okay. My love.
When a reached the counter I was supposed to sign in at, I realised that a number of other people were there with all sorts of other tests that they needed to run.
I was expected to share a counter with other people.
Shitsake. It was like buying condoms when you were young and innocent. You needed an empty isle.
It felt like there were at least 376 other people waiting at the counter filling in forms in complete silence, a lot of them young school girls and old grannies and a couple of nuns if I remember correctly. Then a sever looking nurse with a booming voice called out over all their heads asking me what I wanted.
Shitsake.
I am sure I remember them all stopping what they were doing and silently turning to face me.
As softly as I could I stammered out "I am here to give a sperm sample"
"What!" she boomed.(cow)
"I need to give a sperm sample to check that my vasectomy has worked"
(bitch)
She gave me a small plastic vial with a screw top and very loud instructions, over the heads of the waiting masses.
I left quickly.
Okay, now the easy part. We've done this a million times eh, no biggie.
Mmmm, where to go?
I ended up in a toilet cubicle in the downstairs loo.
I tried. I really, really tried.
But it smelled like a hospital. Shitsake, it was a hospital.
The cubicle had those awful doors that don't come all the way to the floor.
And worst of all was the foot traffic.
Who knew a hospital loo had that many people wandering in and out.
Every time I got anything approximating a rhythm going, crash, in walked the next prick.
I tried till it got uncomfortably sore.
It just wasn't going to happen.
I stared at my new friend, the empty plastic cup.
Hello little empty matey.
We needed more us time.
So I zipped up and went searching for somewhere more romantic and secluded.
I found an upstairs loo on the corner of the third floor. This had to be quieter.
In I went and we started on the second act.
At one stage I thought I might be getting somewhere when the door opened and somebody came in and took a noisy leak in the cubicle next to mine and stopped the entire performance.
It was worse than a cell phone ringing loudly in a quiet cinema.
I tried one last time (bloody hell, my arm was aching by then)
I was making some progress when I had a kak thought. A very kak thought.
Security camera's. What if they had security camera's and there were at that moment,security guards, men and women, all crowded around a monitor laughing their arses off.
I looked around wildly.
There were no visible camera's, but I had seen The Bourne Identity, just because I couldn't see them, didn't mean that they weren't there.
It was too much.
It was time to bring down the curtain.
Later that day I got home with and empty cup and a serious timing issue for the next day.
You try and produce a sample, getting three kids ready for school, all in a shitty mood, without being bust.
With a wife who is harried and rushed and looks at you like a pervert.
"Do you really have to do that now?"
And then, as per instructions, keep it warmly wrapped in your pocket during the school run.
It was an experience I wouldn't like to go through again.
And I can only wish it on my closest friends.
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