1. How long until I can:
- Drive
- Shower
- Have sex
- Lie in the hammock
- Be annoyed at my neighbor for wearing a Nazi-style motorcycle helmet
- Be annoyed at everyone in the world like they deserve
2. Is diving down into the netherworld between my legs, through the speculum and into my widened cervix like time travel at all? Is it like Jules Verne’s Journey to the Center of the Earth? Or 10,000 Leagues Under the Sea, maybe?
- Is there a moment when you’re horrified by the sheer biology of an inert, naked, middle-aged woman in that outrageous position?
- Does it look anything like the star-nosed mole that scared the living crap out of me in my garden last summer, all twitchy, whiskery and blind?
- Have I now ruined star-nosed moles for you?
3. Truth is I’ve never been fond of vaginas. I picture mine looking like Winston Churchill’s vagina, if he had been a woman, or maybe Mrs. Doubtfire’s vagina. I apologize ahead of time if mine looks like Mrs. Doubtfire’s British, middle-aged man-vagina.
- Also, why do you suppose the two examples I’ve given of vaginas above are of men’s vagina’s?
- Also, also “vagina” is a terrible word
- Also, also, ALSO please don’t show these questions to anyone
4. Do you have a periscope?
- Do you wish you had a periscope?
- Do you sometimes fantasize about wearing a submarine captain’s uniform while you operate?
- Do you eat a big can of spinach before operating, the way Popeye would?
- Why do I equate this surgery with naval exercises?
5. What are the things that can go wrong?
- What are the things that can go horribly wrong?
- Do you sometimes wish you had just gone to pharmacy school?
6. During the operation could we listen to Bach’s “Goldberg Variations”?
- And right before you put me under, will you hold my hand and look into my face and smile?
- Just stand there until I close my eyes, if you would, so that my last image might be of a competent human being.
- Not to be bossy, but smile with your eyes because I won’t be able to see your mouth behind the surgical mask
- And don’t play Vivaldi. That fucker makes my heart race.