Part 4 - Dr. Dipshitz

Long story short, Christi and I decided to take advantage of technology. We set up an appointment with Houston IVF. IVF (In Vitro Fertilization) in the process of extracting the eggs and mixing it with the sperm and letting the magic happen. The doctors in Houston referred me to a Urologist that specializes in fertility issues.

My first visit with Dr. Larry Lipshultz was... um... eventful. For three hours I felt like an animal in a small cage and the doctors were like ornery 5 year olds with long sticks. I just kept getting poked and no one was paying attention to spank the little shits. Ok, so they werent sticks... they were the huge sonogram wands and they hurt worse. This story ends with me in the shower doing my best impression of that poor son-of-a-bitch from The Crying Game.

Two weeks later Christi returns to Dr Lipshultzs office with me - for protection. We expect to get news about how he will fix things but instead we waited 4 hours to hear Dr. Dipshitz wants more testing. Not your normal blood and urine tests. These were Medieval tests that should not be performed on prisoners. At that moment, I started hearing voices and those voices were not happy. I ran out of the office and left nothing but the sound of a bullet ricocheting and a little cloud of smoke like the Roadrunner.

Christi and I decided it was time to seek a second opinion. We headed to a local IFV expert in Austin, Dr. Vaughn. Dr. Vaughn - rocks. He assured us that we could just move directly to IVF. In addition, he was extremely personable and did an awesome job of setting our expectations. Next stop, a little light testing and a whole lotta drugs.

Not done yet... Part 5 - The Schedule

Part 3 - Re-Wired

I was referred to a Urologist in Austin and made an appointment. I showed up in the doctors office a little early for my appointment two weeks later. I was a little uncomfortable in the waiting room as I was the only patient under that age of 85. I've decided that a Urologist has the worst job in the world.

Tangent: Dirty Jobs from the Discover Channel should really consider an episode visiting a Urologist.

Anyway, I am called back and asked to pee in a cup. I do and am directed to a well decorated office full of Aggie paraphernalia - must be a cool guy. The doctor joins me after a few minutes and asks quite a few questions about our sex life. After the Inquisition he invites me back to an exam room and asks me to drop my pants. I oblige and before I can say "its freezing in here" he's pulling on my potatoes like he's milking a cow. I make the joke "Shouldn't you buy me dinner first". His response is limited to a glare that assures me he hears this joke daily.

Long story short...everything seems ok... not for the lack of looking I assure you... but I need a sonogram to look for a varicocele. A varicocele is a common problem that causes limited blood flow in the testicles.

I find myself in a dark room in two weeks with a guy greasing up my cojones and looking at a sonogram monitor. We spend an extremely long 7.532 minutes in the dark room and don't once make eye contact. I opt not to make my "buy me dinner" joke as its not even funny to me now. I return to work an hour later with a pair of swishy nads feeling like a cheap whore on a walk of shame.

The results return and I find out I need surgery to re-wire the blood flow to the old stones. The decision to go ahead with the surgery was an easy one. A baby is more important that a couple weeks of pain. To make it easier I find out the incision will be just below my waistline and not on my actual eggs... SCORE!

A month later the surgery goes well and the waiting game starts to determine if it worked. See, sperm that is in the shoot today was created 70 days ago so to determine how things are we gotta wait.

My first test took place around 80 days later the news wasnt great. I expected a huge jump in horsepower and got little more than a hop. At this point, the process is starting to get really frustrating. But the good news is that I can now go into a doctors office and rub out a sample in no time. If pressed I bet I could get one off between floors in an elevator. I got a new skill. I really need to update my resume with this one.

Like butter... you are on a roll: Part 4 - Dr. DipShitz

Part 2 - On Your Mark!

If you haven't read the blog Planned Parenthood yet... you need to. It will set up this rant... um... story.

When we last left our hero, he needed to get his swimmers checked out. The first step in getting my potency test was to provide a sample to Christi's doctors lab - easy enough. Christi came home with a cup in a plastic bag and asked me to fill-er-up. No problem, Ive been practicing for this day since I was 13 years old and could get her a sample in 7.124 minutes.

The next morning, I confidently took the cup to the bathroom and started the process. Going well... going well... here we go... CRAP!... I missed. Well not all of it, just some. Oh well, that shouldn't be a problem. Well just drop the rest off at the lab and wait for the results.

That afternoon we got a call from the lab. The preliminary result said that things didn't look good and they asked if I had gotten everything in the cup. Come to find out (Sorry, still giggling after that one), sperm work much like runners in a race. All the fast guys get to move to the starting line and are the first off the blocks. This means I wasted a few million of my best guys. I will need to try again.

My aim was much better on the second try. I got it all and was eager to hear about my outstanding potency. I was almost expecting a nurse to call and say that they never got to complete the test because my guys ate through the cup and are running around the UT campus checking out the girls. No luck, things we bad. It appears as though "my team" was a little lazy. They weren't moving around a whole lot througout the day.

I am so mad at my mom for yelling about me being lazy throughout my lifetime. It's not my fault, it's genetic. The laziness runs right down to the core of my genes. I am owed an apology.

Regardless, we got to get this fixed and it was time to find a specialist. A urologist to be exact.

Keeping going.... It just got interesting: Re-Wired

Part 1 - Planned Parenthood

My wife (played by Christi Massey) and I function best when we have a plan. Tasks, a schedule, major milestones, and risk assessments are important to our happiness. Being the consummate planners, we always hit our milestones; got married... bought a house... purchased a couple animals we define as pets... all on schedule. Although, the last two years have NOT been what we would call..."Planned".

In early 2005, Christi and I decided it was time to procreate. We wanted to release into this world a child consisting of our outstanding genes that include a bald head and an unnatural addiction to sports and stupid trivia (mine) and a distaste for all things "creamy" (hers). Christi may have other issues but for my own well being, I will limit them at being a picky eater.

Much to my initial pleasure, the process of creating a baby involved doing stuff I enjoyed and considered myself... um... good at. Mostly because that's all I thought about from the age of 13. Best of all, I got a free pass without the "warming up the oven" part that every man must endure. We tried haphazardly for about 3 days and decided to Get Serious. This included several things that I was not prepared for.

Sex was no longer a past time; we were in the manufacturing business - we were manufacturing babies. There is only a small window in which a woman gets pregnant each month. We needed to know when that exact time was each month, therefore, unless the biological clock dictated, we didn't waste anything by practicing. This included a prohibition on me flying solo during my free time.

Its very hard and expensive to tell time on a biological clock. We purchased several items which can only be described as egg timers. These egg timers included but were not limited to:

• Thermometers made of Basil (or a similar spice)
• A Clear Blue Easy Machine
• Charts
• Graphs
• Calendars
• And log books

Much like our dog on a long walk, Christi was peeing on everything in sight. All designed to dictate when the best time to conceive would be (statistically).

We tried this tactic for about six months and decided to seek professional advice. Christi started by going to her doctor for a check-up. Luckily, her plumbing was in good shape. Unluckily, I had to get checked out. Then things got weird.

Like that? Keep reading: Part 2 - On Your Mark!