During My Vasectomy, I Heard the Surgeon Say, “Don’t Let Him See This”—And I Knew Something Was Wrong

but no one seemed to notice or care. I tried to move, to speak, to do anything. My body wouldn’t cooperate. The drugs had me pinned like a butterfly under glass.

All I could do was lie there, screaming inside my own head, while Mercer’s hands worked on my abdomen.

In recovery, my head was clearing but my legs were still rubber. I had to know what was continue reading …