For those of you who don’t know, I work at a non-profit that gets jobs for disabled people. Physical and mental. We might find some jobs, but we make a lot more. We have contracts with the military to do vehicle maintenance, fleet management, sani-cans, grounds work, issuing, janitorial, those are the major ones. Most of those workers are disabled in some way. And most of these contracts were taken over from companies that were not non-profit, did not hire disabled people, and had much lower levels of customer service.

I’m very proud of the company I work for.

I never thought of myself as having problems being around mentally retarded people, and I still don’t. But I can now realize that I wasn’t, and often am not, comfortable.

When I first started working here, there was the Jump Rope room. The Jump Rope room is full of mentally retarded employees. Some are severely mentally retarded. Most are very excited when people come through. I had to go through that to get to the server room.

At first, I avoided it. Then, a few weeks later, I started parking in back so that I would go through the room. When my family visited me (which is often, it’s a family-friendly place) I’d have us enter, and leave, through the Jump Rope room.

I got to know several of them. What’s interesting, to me anyway, is the number of times someone says “They’re like children.” The first part, they, establishes a comfortable distance. The second part implies sympathy.

The analogy works only to a certain degree. I’ll give you a case where the analogy diverges.

Our CEO, who started this company with many of the jump rope employees, had a birthday party recently. All of the folks from jump rope decided to make him a birthday card, and one card had Greg sign it. Greg signed his name with GERGEERG. It was really sweet, when it was explained “He’s been learning how to write.”

This is where the analogy breaks. Greg’s learning how to write is sweet, by in a painful way. When my daughter tries to write her name, it’s sweet in a potential way. She will be able to write her name. At first, she’ll falter. Then she’ll get better and better until she takes her place as someone who is literate. Greg’s improvements have been on behalf of some hard work. I don’t think Greg will ever write the way you or I do, and that’s sad. That’s limiting. That’s where the phrase “They’re like children” falls flat, because of the potential. But it’s a comforting thing for people to say, so they say it anyway.

There’s also a perception of ‘not quite a person’. Or ’shadow of a person’. That’s a more bitter analogy, that mentally retarded people are missing something, some part of them or their mind. And while it might seem more accurate, it’s also most insulting.

What is, is. Who people are, they are.

This is easier, in a sense, for me since I’m exposed to people with radically different mental stats on a daily basis.

It’s easy to do with words, but not so easy mentally. To accept that Greg is all that he is, he is who he is and he’s every bit a full person, was not easy. I do think I’ve done it, though. That doesn’t mean I’m comfortable, and I don’t think it needs to.

Here’s your homework. You know that woman that works at Safeway, the mentally retarded woman, who bags groceries? When have you ever said “How’s your day?” Ask her, and listen to her answer. Don’t couch your words. This is something I’m working on, too.

Vasectomy (2005) : Four Stars

Vasectomy (2005)
Directed by: Dmitri Kuznetsov

Avg rating: * * * *

Genre: Drama, Comedy

Plot outline: Ralph goes in for a vasectomy and learns first hand about the ramifications to himself mentally and physically.

User comments: Great performances, some funny scenes with a good message at heart.

Details: Except this wasn’t a movie. I really did go in, about six months ago, and get a vasectomy.

Here’s the one-time-only warning that I’m going to talk, graphically, about my penis and testicles. If you’re feeling faint of heart, fear not! Simply read another article.

Meetings

The Procedure

Like you don’t know, the vasa deferentia, the tubes which connect the testicles to the prostate, are cut and closed. This prevents sperm produced in the testicles to be in the ejaculated semen fluid (which is mostly produced in the prostate and the seminal vesicles).

My Procedure

I was told to shave, but not exactly where. I was given drugs to take before my procedure.

Next thing I know, I’m in a surgical gown on stirrups and some woman is saying regretfully “You were supposed to shave.”

“I did shave, here, behind my testicles.”

“Oh on, Doctor Kuznetsov needed you to shave on the front of your testicles.”

So she proceeded to shave me, dryly, until she was satisfied. With the drugs, though, it didn’t really matter. My biggest concern was that some person touching me would give me an embarrassing erection, which didn’t happen. Turns out the drugs take care of that for you.

You’re seriously relaxed.

After the shaving, Doctor Kuznetsov came in. He had an excellent bedside manner. The first thing I noticed was that he informed me of every single thing he did, before he did it. This proved immensely comforting to me. It was a form of respect that I haven’t attributed to doctors previously.

He even joked about his Russian name, Kuznetsov, CUTS-nuts-off. The fact that he still found that funny gave me even more confidence (the drugs? …. nah).

I felt two distinct stings during the procedure. Then I was done, with a jock strap and an ice pack. Kelly was in the waiting room and took me home where I laid on the couch for a good two hours.

The instructions were to stay on my back for two days. Yeah, right. I have kids. No deal.

The physical recovery proved easy enough. There were some stitches, in the front of my scrotum, that made me feel uneasy. I thought that it was a permanent staple. A week later, the stitches fell out and everything looks the same as before.

There was a follow up sperm test 1 month afterwards. It took all of five minutes, and I was pronounced sterile.

Functionally, everything else is the same, as well. There’s no difference ejaculating, even looking at the semen. It seems the same as before.

Emotionally, I felt slightly off-balance. I was sterile. ‘No longer able to create life’ somehow meant to me unable to support life. I wasn’t really prepared for this, believing that I’d thought through all the ramifications of the sterilization process.

Here I was, doubting. I’m not even sure what I was doubting in myself, to be honest. But the insecurity was there.

As a male, I’ve heard the message that a sterile man can cheat on his partner easier. No need for condoms or birth control. I’ve heard the message that I’m somehow more free of children, or possible future children weighing me down. But although I’ve received that message, it fell way flat.

Sophie and Nels were to be the last of my offspring. Sophie and Nels were to be the last of my offspring. The only two out of a million possibilities. I’d never meet another child of mine. Those two were it. It seems so limiting.

Not that we’d do well with more kids, honestly. It’s more like the giving up of hope. Think about it — if you were told exactly what would happen each day of every day of the rest of your life, exactly what would happen, you’d be dead inside. It’d crush your spirit. Because it would take away hope.

You’d have no real wish for anything other than what you were told. If you knew everything that was going to happen, you couldn’t possibly wish for a better outcome. You’d know the exact outcome of every scenario. You’d lose hope in anything being better than what you knew.

How totally depressing.

And that’s what I felt, at least a fragment of it. I lost all hope that I’d ever get to know another child of mine. That’s a big deal. To have the cut off, irrevocably, permanent. Forever.

It was about a week of mourning, and then I moved on. I had actual, real children right here and now to enjoy. So I moved on. Emotionally, some change took place inside to reconcile my sterility with my fatherhood. I integrated the two, and I’m not sure how. I’d like to know, but for now, what I have is working for me.

Irrevocably, permanent. Forever. Amen.

Yes I Was Trying To Drive Her Nuts

[1:44:12 PM] Hoss Hogaboom says: How’re you on router configuration these balmy days?
[1:44:53 PM] Hoss Hogaboom says: Balmy days of yore, if you will.
[1:45:10 PM] Doc Golbeck says: What type of router config?
[1:45:41 PM] Hoss Hogaboom says: Either using the VLAN stuff in the powerconnect, or using a spare IP to give our conference room segregated internet access.
[1:45:58 PM] Hoss Hogaboom says: It’s becoming trendy for people around here to ask for that.
[1:46:19 PM] Doc Golbeck says: It was my understanding that Jim did not want the segregated internet access in the conference room…
[1:46:27 PM] Hoss Hogaboom says: Ah, that is not the case.
[1:46:33 PM] Doc Golbeck says:
[1:46:51 PM] Doc Golbeck says: Yeah because he doesn’t want people to have to VPN in to get access to our network..
[1:46:59 PM] Hoss Hogaboom says: The big thing is to have a segregated network for WIFI right now.
[1:47:02 PM] Hoss Hogaboom says: Yeah, maybe you’re right.
[1:47:29 PM] Hoss Hogaboom says: But he is ok with both APs being used, WPA on the lan and WEP on the segregated vlan.
[1:47:38 PM] Doc Golbeck says: |-) Hoss, We just discussed that at our last big meeting and he said he didn’t want that.
[1:47:56 PM] Hoss Hogaboom says: Holl, I have had several high-level and high-function meetings with him.
[1:47:56 PM] Doc Golbeck says: You trying to drive me nuts?
[1:48:00 PM] Hoss Hogaboom says: No, I’m not.
[1:48:06 PM] Hoss Hogaboom says: You’re clearly already mad.
[1:48:18 PM] Hoss Hogaboom says: Why, I read in your employee file that you clawed your way out of an asylum.
[1:49:19 PM] Doc Golbeck says: very funny. I’m not mad but we’ve been through this before and that is what I recommended but Jim didn’t like the idea and felt that with the new wireless security it was an overkill…
[1:49:24 PM] Hoss Hogaboom says: So, this sailor walks into a bar. He has a steering wheel in the front of his pants.
The bartender says “Why’s that down your pants?”
The sailer says “Arrgggh, it’s drivin’ me nuts!”
[1:49:33 PM] Doc Golbeck says: Dios Mio!
[1:49:54 PM] Doc Golbeck says: ring ring

Pointless Post

[8:48:22 AM] Doc Golbeck says: Hey, I am trying to get a pw and this is what I get:

Server object error ‘ASP 0177 : 8007007f’
Server.CreateObject Failed
/lib/libhogaboom.asp, line 24
8007007f

[8:48:41 AM] Hoss says: Yeah, hang on 1 seconds … I’m working on that right now …

[8:48:49 AM] Doc Golbeck says: oh, ok

[8:49:19 AM] Hoss says: You can get it from my machine for right now.

[8:49:28 AM] Doc Golbeck says: Thanks!

[8:50:13 AM] Doc Golbeck says: can’t resolve by netbios name, what’s the IP?

[8:50:29 AM] Hoss says: .187.

[8:50:37 AM] Doc Golbeck says: thx

[9:06:39 AM] Hoss says: I rebooted that server on Saturday. It did have SP1 on it …. it came up from reboot just fine. BUT – apparently, there’s something in in that stops ADO connections, like what I use to access an Access database.

[9:06:56 AM] Hoss says: SO – for now, it is broken. I’ll let you know when I get it back up.

[9:08:59 AM] Doc Golbeck says: k

Update: And for the record, installing SP1 and rebooting the application sererfixed it.

Yesterday morning Sophie was kissing me goodbye as I was on my way out to work. She said, very sweetly:

“Daddy, can you bring me some claws home from your work today?”

She’s been fixed on dinosaurs as of late, which I’m guessing is the source of interest in natural defense. So I made her some claws.

She played with them off and on last night for quite awhile. Then said:

“Daddy, would you make me some scary teeth?”