Excepting the fact that this never should have happened, here's how this should have gone:
Doctor: "You have cancer. It's called CML."
Me: "Bummer. What should we do?"
Doctor: "Well first off, since we've caught this in the early stages and you don't yet have children you should immediately go down to your local sperm bank and make a few deposits."
Doctor: "Well, you're not supposed to conceive while on Gleevec."
Me: "Oh. Okay. I'll be right back."
(3 days pass, during which I pleasure myself several times in the name of my future children.)
Me: "Okay. All set."
Doctor: "Great! Let's get you started on Gleevec. Hopefully in 1 year you'll be in remission."
Doctor: "Ice cream?"
Me: "Why sure!"
(We skip gleefully hand in hand down to the local ice cream shop.)
But it didn't. I got on Gleevec before I could donate "material". No one mentioned that this would be a big deal, or even brought it up till we asked. Plus, I wasn't all that worried since we had a little one brewing.
Now we're fucked. And we didn't have to be in this position if things were handled differently. I would even say, if things were handled correctly. I don't want to be upset with my doctor, but isn't it things like this that make the difference between good care and great care? Between a living patient and a patient living happily?