This recession is hitting all of us these days. I know for our family of four, my learning how to cook on a more reasonable budget is vital. Learning how to cut coupons to help save us money, is equally important. I’ve used coupons in the past but according to Sarah Roe, I’m using them ineffectively. She uses coupons, sales and even double coupon days to purchase her items for free if not close to it. Her system takes a lot of work and dedication, but it is learnable she says and my husband is all for cutting back.
On other news fronts people are taking more drastic cuts these days.
ABC news reported this statement. “Lawrence Ross, a urologist and former president of the American Urological Association, said he and his colleagues have noticed a roughly 50 percent increase in vasectomies in the past four to six months, which he attributes in part to the ailing economy.”
Vasectomies are up 50%? Wow. That is pretty drastic if you ask me. If given the choice, I’m thinking my husband would rather clip coupons.
Granted we’ve already been through that “procedure” a few years ago, but it still seems drastic, not to mention expensive if you don’t have insurance. I know I said “we” and you married couples out there are probably thinking I’m using the universal “we;” the one that means HE and not ME. But I don’t. We were there together in the same room through the whole procedure.
His doctor ran a guilt trip on me, and so being co-dependant, I went in to support him. I carried a grudge for a while there and I almost puked. Don’t get me wrong, I love my husband and I will follow him anywhere, I just didn’t expect to follow him to the urologists office and procedure room.
There were no training classes for this. No Lamaze, no shoulder rubbing or funny breathing, just me in a room with nothing to do but watch. I tried to be cute, and that went badly. I did bring a magazine in with me from the lobby. It was “Appaloosa Monthly” – their stud for hire edition. Pages and pages of pictures of big beautiful Arnold Schartzenegger looking horses for hire. Their prices ranged from $1,000 – 10,000 per encounter. I thought it was fascinating until I got the part about skipping all the romance and they’ll just send you the stuff and you can do it yourself. If you are going to read magazines like that while you are in the room with a man having a vasectomy – don’t ponder things like “I wonder how they do that?” out loud. Just saying, it’s a bad idea. And it’s really bad form to bust out laughing from reading while doctors are handling sharp objects around your mates nether regions.
I wasn’t going to go in. I really just wanted to wait for him in the waiting room. I did my good wifey job, I drove him there. I was going to drive him home, fill his pain script and baby him for a few days. Wasn’t that enough? Apparently not according to his doctor. Sparkey hit me this this guilt trip.
“Oh now but he was there for you when you delivered your babies. All things being equal, shouldn’t you be there for him?”
All things being equal? I’ve been married almost 20 years, all things are not equal. Never have been. I mean sure, he brings home the money and I spend it. I cook the dinners and he eats them. He wears clothes and I wash them. Balanced, maybe, but not equal. Besides, what does a vasectomy have to do with childbirth? Other than the obvious. I was there, all things are NOT equal.
I gave birth to my oldest in a teaching hospital in Chicago. Now there’s a meet and greet opportunity right there. I met everyone from the janitor to the Chicago Bears that day. Oh no, that’s not right, I met the janitor and the Bears were playing on TV in my private birthing room – where my whole family, friends and various strangers gathered to share this joyous event and ignoring me completely. When I screamed, they just thought I was chearing on our team.
I still remember when my OB came in with her little entourage’ of wannabe doctors and who knows who else. She was checking me over and then turned to everyone and said, “Okay, who wants to tell me how far she’s dilated.”
I was really hoping she was talking about my eyes.
She wasn’t.
Then I hoped they were going to guess.
They didn’t. They had to measure.
I won’t tell you how they measured. I’ll just say that everyone got a turn, including the janitor.
I am happy that I went in with him though for his procedure – even if he was jumping up and down behind the doctor waving his arms and shaking his head no. I just told him he didn’t need to be brave for me and that I would be happy to be the supporting spouse he’d always dreamed of having. And I promised not to laugh or anything. I’m glad I went in, the poor guy didn’t have a clue what the drink holders were for and I had to explain it. So I guess he really did need me afterall.
Delivering our babies was a wonderful experience in retrospect, but that could just be an epidural induced hallucination. I got the epidural shortly after Jeff leaned in close to kiss me and a contraction hit. Poor guy spent the rest of the day sitting in a corner, slapping his ear with his hand and answering imaginary phones. But all in all, it was a good day, surrounded by friends, in a nice calm room, watching the Bears play, and taking pictures. They even let Jeff cut the cord.
I will admit, giving birth is a much better experience than having a vasectomy, and all things are not equal by a long shot. No TV, no visitors, no real drugs for either of us, no cameras and well.. If you ask the urologist if he’ll let you cut the cord – you’ll get escorted back to the waiting room.
We should have stuck with coupons.
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Dropping my 18 year old off at the airport for his first out of the country mission trip was far more difficult for me, than it was for him. Charlie is excited, and I’m well, not so much. I had to leave before I started crying. Afterall I don’t want to embarass the kid in front of his friends.
I guess they had fun at Prom though – and that’s all that matters.