In the last couple of posts on here, I discussed the idea of getting a vasectomy as a prerequisite to engaging in sexual activity.  I am now happy to say that the vasectomy is done, and I am now in the “purge” stage, where I am pushing out whatever sperm was already downstream from the surgery site.  And talk about an easy procedure: I was in and out of the building in about 45 minutes.

One thing that I was concerned about going into this was that my lack of sexual activity of any kind would cause some doctors to decline to perform the procedure, much like the stories that I have heard where doctors will sometimes decline to do the procedure on someone who they seem to be too young.  Fortunately, that sort of issue never came up, and the doctor never questioned anything with me.  I imagine that it was because I was over 40, and also that I bought my partner in with me, i.e. I am quite mature, and in a committed relationship.

However, I think that I caught the doctor off guard with one of my answers during the consultation appointment.  The doctor came in, we discussed things, and in the process of the discussion, he asked what kind of contraception we were using now.  I was not shy, and I said “abstinence.”  He seemed surprised, and said, “Oh.  Well, that’s a very effective method.”  I suspect that he was expecting something like condoms, the pill, withdrawal, or something else like that.  But while I did not explicitly mention that I’d never had sex before or that I was asexual, I was also not ashamed of the fact that my partner and I do not have sex.  After all, you can’t get pregnant if sex never happens to begin with.

As far as things after the procedure went, among other things, the post-discharge instructions specified to refrain from sex for a week, which included solo performances.  I went about a week and a half before resuming my normal masturbation schedule (I tend to fap on Sundays and Tuesdays).  Nobody tells you that after the procedure is complete, the first ejaculation would start out as a brownish color before taking on its usual shade again.  I was a bit disturbed at first when I saw brown liquid spurt out of my dick, but a second or two later, I was like, oh, right, as I realized that it was residual blood from the vasectomy work.  In other words, it was essentially construction debris that just needed to be flushed out, and everything around it had already healed, i.e. nothing to worry about.

The biggest challenge about this for me was about reconciling two sides of the argument about getting a vasectomy as an ace who is somewhere in the neighborhood of sex-averse and sex-repulsed.  It took me this long to have it done in part because of this internal struggle over the necessity of the procedure.  Before I recognized my own asexuality, I knew that I never wanted children, going back to a very young age.  Sometimes you just can’t see yourself doing something, and fatherhood was that for me.  There was no way that I could ever possibly see myself as a parent.  It just wasn’t for me.  And knowing when something isn’t for you and accepting that, despite heavy societal pressure to do otherwise, is a mark of wisdom as far as I’m concerned.  I also didn’t get the vasectomy done for quite some time just because there was no real need to.  Aside from a very short relationship in high school, my partner and I didn’t become a thing until 2016 (though we knew each other for several years before that), so with no relationship prior to then, there wasn’t much of a need for it.  I was seriously considering getting it done in 2020, but that went out the window once the pandemic came along, since I didn’t want to deal with all of the nonsense related to that for an elective procedure where there was no urgency, i.e. we weren’t having sex anyway (though for what it’s worth, I still have no plans to have sex in the foreseeable future).

Ultimately, when it came to getting the vasectomy, my consent for the procedure was ongoing and enthusiastic, just like it ought to be for sex.  Kind of ironic, I suppose, considering how I find myself incapable of mustering up the enthusiasm to provide the proper consent for sex.  But ultimately, my vasectomy wasn’t about having sex.  It was exactly the opposite, as it really was more a commitment to my asexuality than anything else, in that it further cements the idea that, from a biological standpoint, there is no point in my ever having sex, because there will be no sperm in whatever I put out.  Some people might get a tattoo to affirm their asexuality, while I got my balls disconnected instead.  And unlike a tattoo, a vasectomy is fully covered by insurance.  It also places sex firmly in the recreational category, because with the possibility of children fully off of the table, that would be the only reason to ever engage in it.

Another important factor was that I knew that I wouldn’t have a moment of peace with myself until I did it.  I’d spent the last twenty years wanting to have this procedure done, so I finally went and did it, and now I can put it behind me.  That’s just how my mind works, I suppose.

With the vasectomy now done and in the past, it takes 20-30 ejaculations to completely purge the system of any remaining sperm.  If I go according to my normal fapping schedule, including the occasional Thursday session as well, I should be completely clear by the end of the year.  After all of that, I then have to ejaculate into a cup (this is done at home) and take it to a lab for analysis in order to confirm that I’m clear.  I was not entirely certain about the rules on how to do that, so when I was recently at LabCorp for unrelated reasons, I asked the technician about it. I typically use lube when I engage in self-pleasuring, and I needed to know if I was allowed to use lube when providing the sample, or if the lube would contaminate it.  That was super awkward to ask, even if it was a perfectly legitimate question, and I was highly nervous about asking at all, even when remembering that medical professionals have seen and heard everything.  And would you believe that for all of that trepidation, the answer that I got was “I don’t know”?  So much stressing for nothing.  Though ultimately, the question is whether I am allowed to use my regular lube, or if I have to use water or something.  I have a while before it becomes relevant, though, so I suppose that I have time to do some research and find out for sure.

Then once the system is fully purged, this vasectomy will have eliminated a significant barrier between me and my having sex with my partner.  The vasectomy is the easy one, since that is a physical thing, cutting off the flow of sperm and making sure that they never find their way out.  It’s the mental part that’s the more difficult one, since I feel as though I’m simply not wired for sex, with no libido or sex drive to speak of.  I admit that she has somewhat reluctantly accepted the idea that sex isn’t going to happen any time soon, but that doesn’t mean that she’s not still a bit salty about it.  When I was setting up the appointments for the vasectomy, she questioned why I was going through with it, because, “It’s not like you use it anyway.”  Thanks, I suppose.  Way to rub it in that you’re not pleased about that.

In the meantime, I guess the best thing for me to do is to go find a nice BDSM video to watch and get busy.  There is a system to purge, after all.