Defining Your Membership Means Someone Gets Left Out

A number of months ago I started noticing a recurring pattern, that every once in a while when I'd brush my left nipple in the bathroom or getting dressed there was a faint, phantom tenderness. If I hunted around to really pin it down I felt nothing and it started during the humid summer when I sometimes chafe against my clothes while running, so I didn't think much of it. Still, it's still there, and when I saw the doctor last week for other stuff I remembered to mention it.

She referred me for an ultrasound to the usual imaging center I've gone to for x-rays and other tests of that sort. Only this time when I arrived with my referral, the receptionist told me to head back out the door and around the corner to another suite they use. I found the suite number by the door, but a much more prominent sign labeled it as the "Women's Specialty Center." Inside were only women, both patients and staff. The art on the walls was all of the female body. I had to leave three-quarters of the paperwork incomplete because it didn't apply to me. I worried I'd make the other partially dressed patients uncomfortable with my unexpected presence when we caught glimpses of each other in the hall. It wasn't really a big deal and I'm not complaining, but I did feel I'd been sent somewhere I wasn't supposed to be.

(The test results were normal and healthy, so no worries but no explanation for the tenderness.)