Many years ago, My Guy was a sperm donor. He’s got really enviable DNA, but being gay with no desire to raise kids, decided to let some lucky recipient raise the little bastards without him.
He was shown into a little lavatory supplied with a few girly magazines. He asked the nurse whether she had anything else, because he wasn’t into women. For whatever reason, she took that as meaning that he was into animals, and no, she didn’t have anything like that.
He had to go out and buy his own porn (sans women or animals), which apparently worked.
I can’t comment on the clinic aspect, but I believe that one possiblity (I would assume mostly for religious reasons) is to have the sample collected post-coitus. Now, I have no clue on the logistics of this method.
While in graduate school I participated in a sperm donor program administered by the Medical College of Virginia. I figured, “What the hell, I’m doing it for free now - why not get paid?”
They didn’t provide any sort of stimulating material. You went in the office on the appointed day and there was a brown paper bag with your name on it. In it was specimen cup. The bathroom was across the hall and, this being one of the busiest hospitals in the state, was like Grand Central Station (particularly at lunch, which was when I went).
I went in to make a deposit one day and the receptionist said, “The doctor told me telll you that you’ve got great semen.”
I happened upon this thread doing a search for parental discipline, but let me chime in.
Before my son was born, the wife and I were having trouble conceiving.
So we scheduled the same test as the OP.
And I had the SAME freaking problem. We had to deliver it to a lab in a time sensitive manner, yet they offered no onsite “facilities.” No one even recommended that I hit the park. NOTHING. Just that they couldn’t accomodate me in any way.
Now, I live in the Houston suburbs which is pretty far away. So I was also worried my boys would wilt in the time that was needed to drive to the lab.
I had to do my business in the car behind an run down, abandoned motel.
All the way there, I was rehearsing what I’d say to the cops if they rolled up.
It was odd wondering how many Johns had been serviced in that back alley. Coupling that with the giggling of my wife in the front seat, it was tough to get the job done.
But I persevered. That’s what I do!
The ultimate irony? It turned out that not only was my count fine, my wife was pregnant at the time…
I just wanted to be in tbhis thread because I see it making Threadspotting any minute now…
When I got the boys hoses snipped, years back I went to a clinic with Bus Wife. She had to drive me home. Prior to the procedure, I had to produce a sample. This being a clinic that did this on a regular basis, I was led to the wanking lounge.
Yes folks, the wanking lounge. Small room with a couch, a nice chair and a selection of the finest porn, Playboys, Penthouses, etc.
I was told the wife could go with to “assist”, but that under no terms could I use a condom to catch the sample because of the spermicide. The tech explained that contamination wasn’t the issue, but if they want to count live swimmies, that the spermicide would mess that up.
I asked if contamination wasn’t the issue, would saliva in the sample be a problem?
Bus Wife informed me I would be going in by myself.
Having gone through a very difficult pregnancy that involved a three week hospital stay where I spent the greater part of that time begging for morphine while hooked up to an IV and barely able to stop vomiting, I am amused at what some men consider difficult attempts at reproduction.
