Doesn’t Every Male Get Their Sperm Count Done???
Well apparently not…
I thought it was something all men do if they are in a relationship that would ultimately lead to children. Having been hit in the goolies on a number of occasions thanks to my vocation in cricket and being 14 years old in an all boys school where hitting each other in the nuts is terribly funny.
So this story starts in my own head that I should see how good the swimmer are since I have a 2.5 testicles (one sprayed into one and a half after a particularly bad smash into my cricket protector box with 156g of leather covered rock).
It made sense to me while my girlfriend is away in Colombia it would be a good idea to see if we need to start purchasing children from around the world to make a family or if we may have one from our own loins.
I made the enquiries speaking uncomfortably to many clinic receptionists, two different doctors and a host of sperm nurses till I found a place that would bulk bill me for the privilege of passing a specimen under a microscope or whatever they do.
The journey took me down to Clayton a good hour journey SE of Melbourne on the train which coincided very nicely with a bicycle trail I was keen to tick off the list on an enjoyable weekend ride.
With strict instructions I knew how long I had to get a ‘live’ warm sample for it to be viable to sit its exam – 1 hour from time of exit in ambient air conditions and a serious amount of time of abstinence.
Luckily I had maintained my abstinence when taking a number for my ‘consultation’. A 55 minute wait was to be expected. So I dashed off around the place for a ride (lowering my count I presume) to plug the time. I checked back in and my time remaining for my appointment was 20 minutes – so my perfect opportunity to gather my sample.
Armed with my specimen film canister type container I had very few choices, in fact only one – the toilet not 10 metres from the waiting room shared by all people there presumably to do as I was going to have to do! No way was I going to join the ‘mile long club’ of that establishment so where do you go in Clayton to give up your sample.
The best / only option I had was a pet shop (too freaky and they probably had people ask to ‘use their toilet’ there before) or the bowling alley. The bowling alley seemed kind of appropriate as I am sure it might have seen the odd bathroom action in its life.
My only problem was that it was still only 9.30am and the only clientele at this time was a kid’s birthday party in lanes 24 and 25. But with less than 15 minutes before my number was up I had little choices… Locked cubicle and after my girlfriend being away since Dec it was all a bit like being 15 again and more importantly before a child and guardian could put me off my own game.
Race back to the clinic to discover my time frame had not moved – someone obviously feeling the pressure of the mile long club and did not move for the next 20 minutes either.
Just when I thought this whole experience was going to be one of those character building things for nothing I got the call up – uncomfortably handed over my specimen and it was all over in 5 seconds after an intense build up of many weeks, hours and final minutes – again not unlike previous specimens in the company of previous women.
All done and relaxing 50km ride to not even realise how ridiculous and ‘normal’ this kind of thing for me is until bringing it up over scrambled eggs at brunch on Sunday with my friends – who did mention that it is not a normal thing to have checked anyway.
Still makes a story of some kind of description I suppose…