September 1990
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I had a vasectomy a few months before we were married.  It was a breeze, into the surgery on Saturday morning & drive myself home.  Doris  & I even "celebrated" that night.  After all, the reason was that she could finally stop using the pill, which hopefully would have a positive impact on her very bad varicose veins & her health in general.

Apparently, there is a 1 in 1000 chance that a vasectomy operation will heal over within the first few weeks.  I was the one.  So off I went for the second attempt.  I know from seeing with my own eyes in the first operation, that he took 2 segments of about 1 mm each.  Second time around, he went in at the same place, which I think was a big mistake, because he had to cut through all of the scar tissue from before.  He identified 2 tubes, both of which had atrophied, which means they both got hit last time.  And he took 2 more segments of about 1 mm each.  Sometimes there is a third tube, but not in my case.  So one of them had actually bridged the gap & healed over.

Consequently, I had massive bruising from the waist to half way down the thigh & had 2 weeks off work.  I have a vivid memory of arriving at TOYS, with Doris pulling the car into the driveway at the rear.  She headed off in to the workshop, leaving me to make my very slow progress from the car to the door, a distance of all of about 10 metres, which took about 5 minutes to complete.  As I very slowly entered the workshop, Doris explained to the guys what had happened.  Remember, their average age was about 75.  Every one of them, simultaneously, bent over unconsciously & said, "Oooooh!"