Sperm Dignity
I am going to talk about my husband's sperm.
Long long ago, when J was in the Navy, he was zapped repeatedly with radiation. It is a little disturbing how willy nilly our government is with dangerous devices that can harm the health and fertility of its employees but there you go.
So when he got out he tested with a low sperm count. And last week we decided to find out if it recovered any or if it was still pitiful.
Of course, J didn't ask the right questions before he went to his physical. So he couldn't give his sample that way. Apparently, there is a waiting period to give sperm. Like buying a gun, except they actually enforce this waiting period.
So we had to drop it off on Saturday. This is because you have to have it to the lab within an hour of ejaculation. And we live twenty minutes from the lab. And work an hour from our house. Saturday was pretty much the only way.
Sadly the regular lab isn't open on Saturdays and so we spent some hair-raising time trying to find the right building. Only to find ourselves sitting on a bench in a walk-in clinic--surrounded by people with broken bones and bronchitis--with a bag of sperm tucked under J's armpit. You have to keep it warm you know.
Because I am an asshole I kept talking about how I wondered if he gave too large a sample or too small of one. And did he think that he took too long. Or was he too fast. He doesn't think of this shit so I am glad I didn't say anything until the deed was done. Apparently, wondering if your husband is going to appear to be a sexual deviant is not as helpful as you might think.
Once we got some one to help us (not an easy task, I felt that hour ticking by like we had a bomb in that bad) she practically yelled, "OH! WE HAVE TO PROCESS THIS RIGHT NOW!!!!!!!!"
Alright, you get on that sister. We are going out to breakfast.
There is no dignity in medical science at all.
