How Much for Half Off?

Today it was time for my yearly visit to the lady parts doctor. I was trying out a new gynecologist, someone who came recomended by LaHipster, "She's good and her hands are tiny." Okay! I made an appointment for 8:30am this morning, because I've always said there's no better way to start your working day than by stripping naked and being prodded by strangers on the Upper East Side.

This first sign I noticed when I walked into the doctor's office was printed on neon pink paper and hung above the receptionist's window. "OB Patients: A $500 deposit will be required prior to all circumscisions. Insurance does not guarantee coverage." $500? Sounds like an arm and a leg for some foreskin to me. I began filling out paperwork, all of which was concerned with my insurance coverage. I filled out three sheets of paper swearing up and down that I had health insurance and understood my privacy rights. There were no questions about my health, but under personal information there were two questions. "Are you a Jehovah's Witness? Yes or No" with a note "this question is mandatory." Okay. I circled no. Then there was a blank for Religion. Hmm. Basically, there isn't a blank long enough for me to describe my religion. The short answer is that I identify as Catholic, but what does it mean to out yourself as Catholic at a OB-GYN's office? If I were pregnant, would they be less inclined to suggest an abortion? I left this field blank.

I went in and met with the doctor and for the first time someone was curious as to something other than my level of insurance coverage and my belief in God. The doctor was young and very pretty, which I found a little off-putting. I find that if you have any potentially awkward or embarassing questions, one prefers to address them to an unattractive person. This is possibly why strangers approach me on the train and ask, "I pee a little when I sneeze. Is this normal?"

I went through my medical history with the doctor. "Any history of cancer in the family?" Hoo boy, yes! Then she asked me, "Ethnicity?" I hesitated. Was this another values based question? If I answered Italian, would "Pappa Don't Preach" be playing in her head?

"Italian-American," I said.

"You're the first person who has gotten that right," she said. "Most people say 'American' or 'White'."

"No, I know what ethnicity means, but why...?"

"We ask because if you want to become pregnant someday, there are certain kinds of genetic screenings we do based on your background." I tried to picture myself some years later sitting before a genetic counselor. "Your baby girl has a two in three chance of developing a wide ass after puberty," the counselor would say. Then I will look over at my greasy, Guido husband and think, 'I knew I should have married that Korean guy."

The doctor thought it might help my migranes if I went on that birth control where you only get your period four times a year. That stuff sounds a little freaky to me, kind of like genetically modified tomatoes, but she told me it was safe. I remembered that at Smith someone told me, "you know women only get their period because of the Pope, right?" but you have to understand that at Smith, people say things like this all the time.

And now, Cupcake, you've just had your annual pap smear, what are you going to do next? I'm going to Deutschland!!