So last week I did indeed go to the GP and set in place the steps to get a vasectomy on the NHS
*hides every machete in England*
It was a normal-ish chat, except for the part where she again asked me if I was sure ‘just in case the worst should happen’, but she soon began the referral process. This involved one thing I was a little surprised about. Before anyone was giving me the snip my wife had to ring the GP and confirm she agrees with the decision. Yes, I need my wife’s permission to have my joystick amended.
Now let’s stop and think what would happen if this was the other way round. For comic effect let’s do so in a much more unenlightened era.
*puts on a large brain altering hat that gives the wearer the ability to think only in stereotypes*
*changes location and date to 1970s London*
Scene 1: A front room in a terraced house in black and white. Terry is having a Watneys Red Barrel. Enter Sheila from stage left.
S: Darling, you know we’ve talked about not having any more kids…
T: Fackin’ ‘ell shaat up. I’m tryna watch 3-2-1
S: Well I really think you ought to consider having a vasectomy
T: Fack off. Get my nob snipped? No fackin chance. Why don’t you get yer tubes done? (studies Dusty Bin)
S: Well, er, ok, if I must…..
Scene 2: At the GPs
Local GP: Sheila, before I refer you there’s just one thing, you’ll need to get Terry to call me and say he agrees to the process.
(Sheila rolls eyes and trembles a bit).
Scene 3: Back at the black and white terrace, 3 days later.
S: Er, Terry? Darling? Have you rung the doctor’s to talk about my surgery yet?
T: Have I fackin’ what? Later! I’m watching The Professionals. (whistles The Professionals theme tune)
Sheila storms out and commences writing a long letter to The Guardian.
Scene 4: The Offices of The Guardian on Fleet Street. Enter Women’s Affairs Editor and Editor. Editor is clutching a glass of scotch and smoking Rothmans.
WAE: This letter! Have you seen it? Men have to agree before a woman can be sterilized! Men! Agreeing! Other stuff requiring an exclamation mark! It’s like we never burned our bras!
Ed: (wearily) OK give me 500 words by tonight (takes huge drag on Rothmans and wonders how it was he got here)
Scene 5: A sped up montage is shown of the article causing outrage throughout liberal Britain. Campaigns are started. GP’s surgery’s are stormed. Questions are asked in parliament. Muesli is spilled on sandals. A bra is burned in arty slo-motion which somewhat contradicts the sped up nature of the montage.
Scene 6: Back at the black and white terrace 5 weeks later.
S: Terry? Love? Have you phoned the doctor?
T: Fack off! I’m watching The Sweeney. (Terry opens another can of Watneys Red Barrel).
Fade to grey.
*takes off stereotype hat*