Due to my recent fight with an insurance company I’ve been forced to read my medical records in nauseating detail. Gynecomastia appears all over the place- different doctors, in different disciplines, at different times, but almost always mentioned in the notes of every exam since my cancer treatments began.
I find medical records almost as exciting as reading Shakespeare or the legal documents that are part of my daily professional life.
Like Shakespearean English, contracts and medical records have their own lingo full of forthwiths, henceforths and latin-rooted bastardizations. I did understand the gyne latin root refers to woman.
A term relating to woman all over my medical record? Me thinketh WTF?
My curiosity and a quick google search revealed that gynecomastia occurs in a very small percentage of men like me who are undergoing androgen deprivation therapy. I swear I am going to start buying lottery tickets.
Gynecomastia, in plain speak, means man-titties.
And here I was thinking it was just the freshman 15. My self-confidence plummeted. In three whole years, not a single doctor or nurse has said “nice tits” or tried to peek down my shirt or cop a feel…
If you have been following this blog, you know that I look for a silver lining in everything these days, but this titillating revelation was a head-scratcher, requiring careful thought and consideration.
Positives are hard to come by, but I found a couple. I’m getting more creative as I go.
Maybe if I am sporting a nice rack, I will gain insight into the workings of the female mind. THAT would be amazing, like solving a Rubik’s cube blindfolded or peeing in the dark and actually hitting the toilet.
Maybe I could shop in Victoria’s Secret with a new perspective. I LOVE Victoria’s Secret, I hoped they stocked a lot of 50AA’s in a variety of styles. Generally speaking, buying lingerie is a double slam dunk- you get brownie points for the gift and once it is modeled, you get to unwrap the package so to speak. Everyone’s a winner.
Side note: the corsets with built-in garters are a pain in everyone’s ass, just sayin’.
I’ve never purchased lingerie for myself and wanted something tasteful that screamed S-L-U-T! My inner bitch needed to shine, but in an understated ‘I’m available’ sort of way.
Despite my optimism, having something (or two things) in common with women offers no magical understanding of the female psyche and, sadly, VS does not stock 50AA’s.
Methinks this doth suck.