Page 116 of Overtime
“Madeline!” Mom hits me in the arm hard enough that I’m sure it’s left a mark, but all I do is laugh. Especially when the physician himself looks like he’s holding back his own amusement.
I thought because I landed in the ER, the test would be some fancy, bank-breaking stuff. But no. It was just a good old ultrasound and more bloodwork.
But from the ultrasound results alone, Dr. Pranad says, “Yep, you have PCOS.”
Mom gasps, bringing her hands to her mouth in abject horror. I shift wide eyes between her and the doctor.
“Um, is that cancer?” I ask.
“No, no. Polycystic ovary syndrome basically means your ovaries don’t work like they should.”
My hand flies up to rub my nape like Aran does all the time. The sharp pain in my head makes me realize what I’m doing. I drop my hand back to my lap.
“You have some of the visible signs,” the doctor keeps saying, all blasé. “More body hair than average, overweight, extremeperiod pain. You probably have too much androgen too, but we’ll confirm that in a few days.”
“Doctor.” Mom is serious as she cuts in. “What does that mean for my daughter? Like, for her health and her daily life. Is she going to be okay?”
“Sure, I have many patients with PCOS.” He shrugs, because obviously, this issue doesn’t want to unalive him every month. “Madeline’s particular case looks to be on the severe end. It’s a good thing she’s getting diagnosed early, before any irreversible complications.”
I swallow hard. “Like what?”
“Worst case, type-two diabetes, heart issues, masses, and fertility issues.”
“Oh no.” Mom’s pale and wringing her hands. “What should she do to manage this?”
“Eat healthy, exercise. Losing weight helps?—”
“I told you?—”
But before Mom finishes, the doctor adds, “But my patients often say it’s extremely hard to do so, and I get it. Your weight can naturally be off range when your hormones are out of whack.”
“Thank you!” I throw my hands in the air and go the extra petty way and turn to Mom. “I toldyouso!”
“But you can still eat healthy and exercise,” she snips back.
“I climb four sets of stairs up and down every day. I wouldn’t say I’m a freaking sloth.”
“The contraceptive pill also helps,” Dr. Pranad says into the ether, because Mom and I are in our dimension.
“You can’t possibly call that exercising, Madeline.”
“Well, do you want me to join a CrossFit gym or something? Good luck getting me to lift weights that could kill me if I faint because of my period pain.”
“It doesn’t have to be so extreme. Just walking every day is fine. And also layoff the takeout.”
I throw my head back and laugh. “I do takeout once a week, Mom. I can’t afford more than that.”
“Then why are you so… so chubby?”
“It’s the PCOS,” the doctor says.
Mom turns sharply to him. “But didn’t you say the way to treat it is by losing weight?”
“Yes.”
“That makes no sense,” Mom fires back.
He nods. “Yes, I know.”
