The Man Bank

There are lots of bad things about chemotherapy. You could go bald, become bloated/emaciated, break out in sores and rashes, experience periods of nausea and vomitting, lose your sense of taste, have your fingernails thicken and discolor, and your urine turn red. An oh yes, it makes you sterile. Usually fertility comes back after treatment is over but in some rare cases it doesn't and you've lost your chance to contribute to the gene pool forever. For some people this would be a wondrous gift to humanity (I'm thinking of you Russell Brand, you shaggy haired twat). For me, I'd like to keep it as an option.

So off I go to the fertility clinic to make a deposit at the man bank. I imagined a waiting room full of hairy knuckled sex pests in trench coats but it was mostly nice middle aged couples waiting for IVF. The alarmingly well manicured German doctor took me off into a room for a little chat, and then handed me a nondescript, tube-shaped plastic container and told me to go to work. Thankfully he left the room first.

I was told before the appointment that if I wanted some 'inspirational material' I'd have to bring it with me. Now I know this is an era of budget cuts and austerity and whatnot but really, can't the NHS afford a dog-eared copy of "Jugs" or "50 and frisky" or something? The fate of future generations of British taxpayers depends on it. I must remember to write my MP about this, it's a killer campaign issue.

EDIT: I've now visited the man bank again and have enough genetic material on ice to repopulate the world after the apocalypse comes, which was the whole point really.