Vasectomy 101, The Real Truth. Is it Painful?

In 2009, I had an experience that I won't soon forget.  After delaying it for several years, I finally manned up and got my junk snipped.  That means I got a vasectomy.  Just the thought of getting the procedure done made me grimace.  Once I hit 40, however, I knew it was time to give in as I didn't want to be 60 years old when my "oops" was in high school.  I went to the initial consultation with the doctor and was a little surprised when he asked me to stand up and drop my pants.  He then proceeded to feel me up.  I thought that only happened when I went to the dentist.  He felt around my sack area and said "this will be a piece of cake".  He convinced me that it would be virtually pain free and that I would be able to work after a day of rest.  I should have known something was up when a friend of mine who had it done a few days earlier would only say "call me when your done".  He wouldn't tell me anything more and quite frankly I didn't want to know anything else.  As I got to the doctor's office to do the surgery, I started to feel really uncomfortable as the nurse who greeted me was smokin hot.  Noooo!  Why couldn't she be beastly, that's just wrong!  She escorted me back to the room and handed me a robe/sheet kind of thing and asked me to undress and put it on.  She said she would be right back in to shave me.  So I put on this backwards kind of robe and layed down on the crinkly paper covered bench.  She came back in and proceeded to lift up the sheet and flip my man-thing around a few times.  Think baseball, baseball...dead cats..anything but what she was doing.  Luckily I had already shaved myself so she didn't have to.  She said it looked good (huh?) and the doctor would be right in.  The doctor came in and the fun really began.  He started to grab and squeeze my junk like it was some sort of play-doh creation.  He took my left nut and pulled it to the far corner of the room and put a clamp on it. He did the same to the right one.  He then stuck a giant needle in each side of my sack and shot in some boiling novocain.  Now the real uncomfortable part was about to begin.  As he sliced open the left side of my sack, both my legs about kicked him in the jaw.  Ughh!!  He asked if I felt it.  "YES", I murmured.  So then he gave me another shot of novocain in each side.  Then he said that I would feel a "slight tug".... ZING-ZANG-POW!!  He pulled out my vas tube and sliced and diced.  I felt everything and it was not cool.  He then used some sort of sci-fi looking contraption that was plugged in and humming.  He put it up to the tube that he just cut in half and sent 4,000 volts of electricity through my scrotum.  I smelled my manhood burning.  Inside, I was doing the silent scream.  He then told me that I was halfway done.  I was thinking that there was no way the other side (my right) could possibly be as bad.  I was hoping the novocain would have fully kicked in and I wouldn't feel a thing.  FAT CHANCE!  It was worse that the first side.  Enough said about that.  When it was finally over, I stood up (looked at my red, black, and blue mauled sack) and tried to put on the jock strap that I had brought for after the surgery.  Here's some advice for you guys, if you are a waist size 34, do not buy a jock strap that says size 32-36.  It won't fit.  I looked at the package to make sure I didn't buy a youth size.  Nope, adult size 32-36.  My junk was being squeezed out of both sides and it wasn't pretty.  After dressing (gingerly), I walk out into the waiting room to meet my wife and I just shook my head and mumbled something at her.  The receptionist handed me a specimen cup that I was supposed to put a sample in and bring back in about 6 weeks.  This "cup" was more like the size of something King Kong would put a sample in.  More about that later.  That was the most unpleasant experience of my life.   The old bag of frozen peas joke is real, it was my best friend.  Luckily for me I was on vacation for the whole week following my surgery.  Eventually, when I needed to bring back my sample, I kept looking at the huge cup with the embarrassing low level of stuff in it.  To make matters worse, the cup tipped over in my truck as I was driving to the office and half the stuff leaked out (yea, gross).  I handed the receptionist my sample, mumbled something, put my head down and walked out of the office.  Good news, officially I'm sterile.