Given that I come from a long line of Rabbis and Talmudic scholars on my mother's side (the one exception being second cousin, Nobel laureate Milton Friedman), it might strike you as unusual in the extreme that I wasn't circumcised in infancy. I'm pretty sure a mohel (ritual circumcizer) could have been ferreted out in 1953 Prague, though perhaps understandably reticent to perform ritual snips, given the frosty Communist squeeze of the times. A physician could have definitely done it though: my ritual introduction and inclusion in the Faith of Abraham. Instead, my parents opted to leave my penis intact. Having just survived the Nazi Holocaust and then the Prague show trials in which 11 of the 13 condemned to hang were Jews, one cannot quibble with their decision. After all, ordering you to drop your pants was a surefire way for the Brown Shirts or the Red Scarves to immediately ascertain your identity and put you on an Auschwitz-bound cattle car (for the Red Scarves it would have been a trip to the Secret Police torture chambers).
As a child, I gave this very little thought. Only occasionally was there a grumble from one of our more pious relatives but I didn’t understand what the word “milah” (Hebrew for “circumcision”) meant, I just felt that my parents had somehow felt embarrassed for failing in their religious duty and needed to apologize for it. Personally, I was quite happy with my penis as it was, thank you. And later, when I discovered the organ fulfilled a function much more pleasurable even that emptying a full bladder, any thought of a future snip was out of the question.
Little did I know that in the late 60’s I would end up in Israel. Now, in the school showers, what was an advantage in Prague, became a source of mirth and ribbing by schoolmates. Still, it was easy to find excuses not to take showers at schools. I had started dating and had no intention of potentially impairing my sexual functioning, not to mention the pain and discomfort that would necessarily follow the surgery. There were two stumbling blocks to remaining uncut, however. One was my looming draft into the IDF and its preceding medicals. Much harder to avoid than school showers. The other problem was my father. He was a professor of literature at a religious university and the - even if very slight - chance that his colleagues might catch wind of the fact his progeny was UNCIRCUMCISED and therefore really only Jewish by birth but not by induction terrified him. Father began dropping hints, then insisting that I undergo the procedure. Since I would have to stand in front of the medical boards soon, I caved in to the pressure - a decision I have never regretted medically but still regret psychologically. Let me explain:
I don’t know what Satan’s brew the anesthetist used to put me under but I developed a severe adverse reaction to it. I was in the throes of horrible nightmares for many hours and when they subsided, I developed ongoing panic attacks. I suffered from PTSD. The operation was traumatic despite being simple. But the anesthetic was horrible, and what’s more: I had given in to pressure and done something against my will. I was 21 and felt - and still feel - I should have stood up to my father.
On the positive side of the ledger, the pain was minimal and my girlfriend loved the new look and the fact that I had apparently become a better lover (her words). Read that any way you want. My new appearance made life easy in the basic training showers and there was satisfaction in the fact I no longer had a weird “secret” and I looked like everyone else when wearing the suit of Adam. As the only person I know who underwent the operation as an adult, I will tell anyone who wants to know that physically it’s no big deal and it will improve your love life. Psychologically - it’s an exquisitely individual matter and can be complicated for all the obvious reasons.
My one lasting issue from the operation performed 48 years ago is a profound phobia of any anesthesia deeper than mild sedation (I wrote about this in my previous piece) It’s potentially a huge problem but my advice to anyone suffering any medical phobia is to ALWAYS search out a second and third opinion, ALWAYS be a firm advocate for yourself, ALWAYS do diligent research. Leave nothing to chance and approach every procedure armed with as much knowledge as you can possibly gather. Some physicians’ egos are fragile and they may resent your extracurricular researches but to hell with that. You don’t want a doctor with a fragile ego. You want a partner to whom you’ll be able to entrust body and soul
My cousin’s husband had a similar experience before serving IDF. Without the issue with anesthetics