“Did you know you have a tilted uterus?” My gynecologist asked during a routine exam.
Honestly, I was not really in a position to comment, and besides, what do you say to an announcement like that? Is it a compliment? Is “thank you” appropriate? Or is it a problem? Do I need to say, “I’m sorry?” Or maybe it’s just informative and I should say, “No worries.” Unfortunately, there wasn’t a handbook for this kind of thing.
This was not the first time news about one of my random body parts left me speechless. One time at the ear, nose and throat doctor, I was told that I have an extremely large uvula. I thought this kind of sounded like an insult. As a woman with weight issues, I don’t really want to have an extremely large anything — but especially something that I had no idea where it even was. Did I need to buy a larger dress size because of this? Or bigger shoes? Eventually I figured out that he was referring to the thing that hangs down in the back of my throat and the appropriate response was simply, “Oh.” Still, it did leave me wondering. He didn’t say “Congratulations, you have an extremely large uvula,” or, “Wow, that is the biggest uvula I’ve ever seen,” both of which would have inspired a response like, “Thanks, I’m quite proud,” or “Yeah, it runs in my family,” or even, “Yes, I’ve thought of joining the circus but decided to become a writer instead.”
The ENT said my extremely large uvula was not an issue, but the tilted uterus had me concerned. The doctor didn’t say it was a problem necessarily, but what if my tilted uterus caused my ovaries to get upset and they started to tilt, too? Soon, all my organs would be tilted and then all that tilting might throw the rest of my body off, and I would start to tilt one way or the other to compensate, like the Leaning Tower of Pisa. I might become a medical anomaly and they would name the condition after me: Tiltingtracyatitis.
Although it would be nice to live on in infamy, this was not the way I preferred to be remembered. Naming a street corner for me would be nice. A part of the female reproductive system… not so much. I hated to have a conversation with my doctor while she was otherwise engaged with said reproductive system, but I was growing increasingly worried and decided I just couldn’t wait.
“Is it a problem that I have a tilted uterus?” I asked her. “Is it going to make my whole body tilt and will it confound the medical community to the point that they will have to name a condition after me?”
She backed away from the table and stared at me.
“Huh?” she said.
“Is my tilted uterus a problem?” I asked again.
“No,” she replied. “It’s a normal anatomical variation. Lots of women have them. It doesn’t affect you at all. I just noticed it, so I thought I’d let you know.”
“Oh,” I said.
“It is, however, the first one I’ve ever seen, so it’s kind of cool.”
I nodded proudly, as though I had anything to do with it.
“You think that’s something,” I said. “You should see my uvula.”
Tracy Beckerman is the author of the Amazon Bestseller, “Barking at the Moon: A Story of Life, Love, and Kibble,” available on Amazon and Barnes and Noble online! You can visit her at www.tracybeckerman.com. To find out more about Tracy Beckerman and read features by other Creators Syndicate writers and cartoonists, visit the Creators Syndicate website at www.creators.com.
