In 1972 my wife (wife #1) wanted no more kids so a Vasectomy was in order. Clip clip no more kids, just a big scar, (back then vasectomy was a big deal.
Come along 1974, divorce and wife #2 comes along. She is 10 years younger and wants kids so a long talk with the Doc and he said yes it can be done but not always with positive results, plus re-attaching those two little spaghetti size tubes is not for the average doc but he was "fairly sure" it might be done. I hated that "fairly sure" shit. So to keep wife #2 happy I said OK.
In hospital. First they cut the scrotum all the way around and peel back the sides like an orange. Do the re-attachment and hope for the best. Lots of scar tissue and stitches. In the hospital for a week or so. During that time every nurse, male and female brought in friends to show them the Doc's work. Embarrassing to say the least when the various nurses brought in friends and asked if they could show them my nuts. The Doc made history with that surgery. I just got the nickname "one nut wonder".
Now reel this back to 1956. Living in Livorno Italy with my military family. Riding my bike down a steep hill. Bike hits a rock throwing me over the handle bars after almost castrating me in the process. Lying there (almost crying as a man doesn't cry). The handle bars have torn the scrotum almost off and my left nut is lying outside the scrotum still attached.
After a short session of crying and puking ( I had deciding that a bit of crying and puking was in order. I decided to do what I could to get my left nut back in the bag and back in my jeans. I put it back in as gentle as possible (now really having to cry and puke (real men can puke). I staggered back up the hill to my parents house. Off to the doc on post. He put Mr. left nut back in bag while laughing the whole time telling me an inch to one side and I would be a girl. Asshole. ( In situations like this real men can say Asshole). Especially when even looking at scrotum covered in stitches hurts. I tried to put off taking a leak as long as possible as even touching the stitches hurt a bunch.
Back to 1975. In hospital after re-attaching little white worms. A day later a large very black male nurse woke me up and said the doc wanted to take a little peek at his work to see if all was ok. Now this very black nurse was standing there with a straight razor in hand and a syringe in the other smiling at me saying he wanted to clean up some hairs that had missed him the first time before the surgery. Now I was still in radio then with my morning show in which we often got a little kinky with almost dirty jokes (This was FM and on FM you can get away with this) and at this time I was doing my best to remember if I had run any slightly racist jokes on said morning show and vowing to myself to never more even think a racist type joke. Either way I just closed my eyes and waited for a snick snick. A quick little shot with Benzocaine to deaden each side of the little slicing and off to surgery room. This time just a tiny little 1" cut on each side to take a peek at previous slicing and attaching little white worms. All OK.
In recovery room another very large black male nurse is checking on me. He pulls back the sheet and with an amazing look on his face he asks me if I just got back from Viet Nam. I asked him why. He said well it's nothing but stitches, scars and scar tissue down there. I just laughed (trying to be a man but this was getting harder all the time) and told him "no just a bar fight". Thinking I was being serious he said "I think I would stay the hell out of that bar".
Later that year after tests and more embarrassing stuff the Doc said the right nut was ok but the left nut was DOA. My radio name after that became the "one nut wonder". I just told anyone asking that it was just a joke.
So Mr. WB do your best to beat that.