It took her a very long time to convince her husband to get the vasectomy. He was obstinate. He would give no reason sometimes, and other times when she would bring it up he would reach, trying to say anything to guilt her into not bringing up the topic. Her favorite excuse was one time when she was bringing it up somewhat subtly, he realized what she was about to start talking about – he cut her off and said, “good God – you’re going to bring this up tonight? The Charlie Brown Christmas special is going to be on!” She had to hand it to him, that threw her off.
Nevertheless, after a year of patient, skillful, (let’s face it) nagging, she had won him over. She had talked to doctors without him and found out everything there is to know about the procedure. She had promised dinners made entirely of steak and cake, and other promises we won’t get into.
He had consented.
They visited the best doctor in the state. He was prepped, physically, and mentally. The doctor was prepped. The earthquake was, well, unfortunate.