You see, providing sperm at the fertility clinic is undignified, but it is bloody hilarious if you have the ability to see it that way.
JK had more than her share of indignities and I could be laughing at those... if I could be both insensitive and dishonest on this blog.
Yep, that is exactly what I meant. I am trying my best to relay my feelings about these events, both at the time and in retrospect. The truth is I was too busy admiring JK to laugh. The way she was able to slog through the hurt, the disappointment, the humiliation. I could not see funny. I only saw strong.
Happily, this is me. Please feel free to laugh until you pee.
Dr. Sipe informed me that I would have to provide a sperm sample. He said that I could, uh... evoke it offsite, but that I would need to get it to the Fertility Centers of Illinois (FCI) in one hour. Oh yes, and also that I'd need to store the sample inside my underwear and close to my penis all the while.
Is it odd that I'm storing my spooge almost exactly where it came from?
Did I say, "came from?" Sorry. No tasteless pun intended.
So, thinking of the inconvenience and sheer stupidity, I figure I will go to FCI and 'evoke' there.
Why is it that I can not seem to say masturbate? Masturbate. As a society, we tend to judge or ridicule people that pleasure themselves. But, it happens all of the time. The folks that heap the most ridicule on masturbators are themselves masturbators!
Statistics show that there are 11 million infertile couples in the US alone. I don't know how many seek treatment. Imagine that all of them do seek treatment (thus adding to the count). That's 11 million guys who have had to masturbate on demand. We are talking about one helluva lot of spooge.
By the way, no lubricant can touch the sample, for fear of invalidating the screen. No lotion, no oil, no KY Jelly, not even saliva. Aren't humans made with natural lubricants when we make love? How do you expect me to pull this off? I have calluses!
And no, the calluses are not a result of excessive masturbation.
I do know one thing. I would need inspiration. I had no idea what sorts of media there might be at FCI? VCR's? DVD players? Naughty movies? What kind of naughty movies? Are they hetero?
In the end, I reasoned that I would have to supply my own inspiration. Movies seemed impractical. Even a laptop, capable of getting a naughty web site feed, seemed burdensome. In the end, I decided that I would print a naughty story.
I have an active imagination. It would be enough.
When I arrived at FCI and was shown the masturbation suite (not a suite really) I was so incredibly glad I had brought something from home!
There were magazines there. I will remember the appearance of those magazines like a horrific near miss for the rest of my life. If I had been forced to touch them, soiled as they clearly were, I believe I would have been forced to hand wash like Lady Macbeth until the end of time. To say nothing of how my genitals would be affected!
I did bring lotion from home, careful to use it only on the shaft. The story did its job and soon I was ready to provide the sample. In moments, I was spooging into a sample cup.
Trouble was, there was this little bit hanging off of the edge.
Naturally, I tilted the cup in hopes of guiding the hanging bit back in. Holy crap! I was about a millisecond from too late to save the entire emission from splashing onto the floor. Visions of me scooping the ruined sample back into the cup assaulted my brain.
Imagine the hilarity if I had been forced to repeat this entire experience.
No harm done however. I closed the cup quickly, unwilling to chance any more screw ups.
In the end, we learned nothing new. My sperm were plentiful, if slightly lazy. They would be able to do their job. The testing would reveal things about JK that would help us in the long run.