Of Ova

Though not my own ova. Mostly. At least not in detail. So, not-too-personal reading ahead.

Recently, I "won" a spot with a family practice doctor and had a physical. It was routine -- all except for the "don't have to talk to the people at the desk at the end" part. No payment or copayment or negotiation about whether they bill the insurance first. (They did look at my insurance card, which has a picture that is an unfortunately accurate representation of what I look like when I'm sick. If I'd known the card would have a photo, I'd have worn some makeup when I got it. Sheesh.)

After the physical, the physician also thrust into my hands a publication. This is also pretty routine, for me. I like to see what the physicians get before someone else rewrites it to make it suitable for the public. Partly it's ego (I'm as smart as a doctor) and partly it's professional development, since explaining technical things to non-technical people is one of the things I do for pay.

This publication, called "Think Ovarian!" (I could NOT make this stuff up) is actually quite interesting. It's about ovarian cancer, how difficult it is to diagnose because of its non-specific symptoms, and the familial factors involved.

I also learned that I have a condition--nulliparity--that I wasn't aware was considered a condition.

Nulliparity, according to various blended dictionary definitions, is a medical term that refers to a condition in which a woman has never given birth or been pregnant.

I would have called this condition "normal," because for me, it is. I have suffered from this condition all my life, and I will in fact suffer from it until I die. However, this is yet another way in which I am not normal and am apparently more prone to develop ovarian cancer.

I do understand that medical conditions are sometimes defined merely to describe states of being. For example, if there's a medical condition that describes the state of never having broken a bone, I also have that condition. But being categorized is still a little unnerving.

And here's another thing. Back when I had employers other than myself, the employers had Employee Handbooks. Each handbook covered pregnancy. One handbook said it this bluntly: "Pregnancy is like any other illness." Hmmm. Pregnancy = illness.

The handbook meant, of course, that people who are pregnant take sick time when they need to miss work for reasons related to pregnancy. But that's not really what it said. Which demonstrates the importance of clear communication and good communicators, to put in a plug for my profession. Connotations are important.

And now, back to the ova, I remind myself that all decisions carry risks -- becoming pregnant and having children bring their fair share -- and I'm fine with the decisions I've made.

But I'm still left with this: Pregnancy is an illness, and never being pregnant is a medical condition.

Is it any wonder so many women feel hounded about the whole motherhood thing? Whatever you decide, you're labelled. Is there a similar medically described-whichever-way-you-go decision for men? I'm guessing not.

As Jian Ghomeshi is (too often) wont to say, to be continued. I have a mammogram in a few weeks and will likely need to wonder aloud whether men would put up with a similarly cold and squashy diagnostic tool for prostate cancer. (Again: I'm guessing not.)