When I showed up at the doctor’s office. They told me the whole procedure usually only takes 45 minutes to an hour. Maybe some people find that convenient, but I’m like, “What’s the hurry. Let’s not rush anything here.” The young lady said "it is totally normal, I assure you."

YSMACK (under my breath): "Yeah, I assure you."

Anyway, the young lady led me into an operating room that gave off a distinct casting vibe – maybe that was just me, but it was a tough feeling to shake. So, I’m waiting there, trying not to be too weirded out by the décor … and the prospect of some dude about to start snipping away at my boys, when in walks one of my buddies who is a doctor.

Dr. Buddy sees me and smiles, “YSMACK, I saw the patient name and wondered if this was you? How you doing, man?”

YSMACK: “Good, man. I didn’t know you were this kind of doctor. I thought you were general practice.” As an aside, I have regularly been underwhelmed by the apparent intelligence of a lot of doctors and, while I love Dr. Buddy like a brother, he is the epitome of what I mean.

Dr. Buddy: “Yeah, I always wanted to do some type of surgery or operation work so I started doing this part time.

YSMACK: “Part time?”

Dr. Buddy (laughing and possibly noticing I am a tiny bit nervous): “Don’t you fret, YSMACK, I got you, brother, as long as you aren’t worried about feeling uncomfortable when we see each other in the future.”

YSMACK: “I’m fine as long as you aren’t worried about feeling inadequate when we see each other in the future.”

Dr. Buddy (laughing again): “You are a riot.”

YSMACK: deadpan.

Dr. Buddy: “Ahem. Well let’s get started. Drop your pants. We have this laughing gas here that can help make things more comfortable. You hold it yourself and self-administer as you feel best.”

YSMACK: Grabs hose and starts huffing in and out like I’d just finished sprinting up Lone Peak.

Things only went downhill from there. I had several moments where I broke out into a sweat and just about knocked Dr. Buddy away. I probably would have if Mrs. YSMACK wasn’t so keen on this procedure. Afterwards, Dr. Buddy gave me a sucker (I kid you not – it was a Dum Dum and I felt that was appropriate). He pointed me to the exit lounge and said “See ya soon!”

Mrs. YSMACK comes to take my arm (cause I'm not walking great) and asks, “Was that Dr. Buddy?”

YSMACK: “Yes.”

Mrs. YSMACK: “Did you know he was going to be your doctor? Did you plan this?”

YSMACK (emphatically): “I did not.”

Mrs. YSMACK: “Was it awkward? I thought you didn't think he was all that smart.”

YSMACK: Let’s go home.

So I’m laid up for the next few days hoping somehow the next basketball game won’t be more painful than what I experience every time I cough, laugh, or have to take a piss. Going condom free better be worth it.

DISCLAIMER: I took a lot of license in writing this to make the story funnier. For example, Dr. Buddy is actually super smart. I’m not just writing this disclaimer in case he reads it.