Sassy Wifey: V-Day

Yesterday was Cervix/Uterus Independence Day at the Martin Household. Phil went and got his vasectomy and is now enjoying his status of "poor baby." Whatever....how about you squeeze out four babies...then tell me about the pain afterwards (we won't even touch on the hellish pain that necessitates the process of bringing a new life into this world).

The hardest part, for me, that is, was getting him a cup to wear afterwards. The following tale epitomizes exactly why we needed to get a vasectomy (I say "we" since it's so trendy to say "We're pregnant" nowadays. So "We" got a vasectomy), a method that requires no further planning. Phil and I plan.....hold on....I'm still laughing because I just typed, "Phil and I plan" and eventhough I was going to add "not one bit" just typing those first four words together have me in spasms. There you go...we suck at planning. Now, if you want us to fly by the seat of our pants and squeeze out the last $40 from the pay period for a week and a half, we're the people for the job. But plan? Well, we try....it just seems that our planning method never pans out better than our flying method, and wouldn't you rather fly?

Based on that approach to living you'll better understand our tale of the Hard-To-Find-Athletic-Supporter. The Urology department originally told Phil that he could get one at any Kaiser pharmacy. They said if he showed up without a cup, they'd send him down to the pharmacy to get one. We get to the appointment early (Score! +5 points for us) and head straight to the pharmacy (another 5 points for staying on track). They don't have any. Huh....? They tell us to head over to the hospital pharmacy....across the street. So Phil, already milking his "poor baby" status asks (you are going to love this...remind me to ask him to buy me pads in the future), "Do you want to go to the hospital pharmacy so I can register upstairs?" Of course I do honey! I just can't wait to jaunt my ass out of this building, through the parking lot into the parking garage, where I'll take the elevator up to the third floor and from there take the walkway bridge across the street to the hospital. Once at the hospital, I'll go down a flight of stairs, walk the length of the hospital to find the darn pharmacy and then walk around trolling all of their shelves for a cup. When not found, I'll stand in a long-ass line with old people bitching about anything and everything just to finally make it up to the counter to ask for a cup....which, SURPRISE, they don't have either! Yes, I can't wait to do this. And it's all for you baby, the love of my life.

I ask pharmacy #2 if it is possible to call urology from there and tell them I'm looking for a cup still (I was told to head to the other end of the city to the medical supply place and based on my calculations, I would just be purchasing it at the same time they finished on Phil) and the pharmacy cashier says, "Ohhhh....do you have their number?" Well, since I'm the planning genius that I am, of course I have the number, right here in my planner. No, of course I don't have it. And he can't take the five extra minutes to look it up in the Kaiser directory so I am forced to run back (this time I just took the outside route, flying up the sidewalk, crossing the crosswalk and walking through the parking lot) and tell Phil, who, when he spotted me in the waiting room looked as if he had found the Lord, that the other pharmacy was a failure also. We need two cell phones bad!

So there we are....him sitting and me standing and breathing heavily (and usually this would be a turn on for him) and he says, "Well...go to Wal-Mart." Are you telling me to go to hell?

Then I'm back in the car fighting off fellow car warriors on the highway to get to the nearest Wal-Mart five miles away. I took the wrong exit. I ended up at Target....whatever...it'll work. But I don't have my checkcard. But I do have the checkbook....whew....almost lost my marbles on that one.

And where exactly do you find a jockstrap/cup/athletic supporter in Target? Well, I can tell you where not to look....don't look in the Health section eventhough they have ace bandages and other supportive-type braces. Don't look in the men's underwear section eventhough they clearly have stuff that is worn in that area. No, just go straight to the pharmacist clerk and she will tell you that (insert gospel "Ohhhhh" singing and bright lights) they are in the Sporting Goods area. You know, where the bikes are? Oh yes....because right after Phil gets his vasectomy and straps on his jockstrap cup thingy, he's going for a nice long bike ride. Listen, I understand the logic of why they were there, but coming from a medical standpoint, it made no sense.

I bought it, jetted back to the medical building, went upstairs, stood in line (a-freaking-gain) and then handed it to the receptionist while whispering, "My husband is back there getting a vasectomy and he needs this." To which she said, "Oh, they were just asking if you were here yet." Whatever lady. I almost flipped her off. Because clearly, I was absorbed in getting a manicure and pedicure or some other girly thing and I left poor Phil hanging...literally.

I told him as we were leaving, "You knew two months ago that you were going to need a cup...why didn't you buy one then?" He looked at me with a facial expression that clearly said, "why?" and then we both laughed.