My Vagina (Cream)

I recently visited a dermatologist for the first time since a short, Jamaican man named Dr. Virtue burned a mole of my chest at the age of thirteen. But that was a long time ago, and now my mom doesn’t set up doctor’s appointments for me anymore. I live in a world without Virtue.

I had one question for my new doctor that burned in my mind and sometimes on my upper thighs: how to avoid irritation and chafing in the… special zone. He recommended basic hygiene, regular dustings of baby powder, and, in the event of an incident, the application of an over the counter cream. This he scrawled in Aramaic on a post-it note sponsored by a corporation whose name seemed to combine an emotion and a kind of plastic.

When the pharmacist at CVS had finally deciphered the doctor’s recommendation, she paused for a moment, looked me over, and, I later realized, assessed my gender.

“What’s this for?”

I lowered my voice and leaned in close. “Irritation in the groin.”

“Follow me,” she said.

Then, in the middle of the store, she asked: “Again, what’s this for?”

“Groin irritation” I said at a regular volume, trying to look as casual as I do when buying condoms.

She led me to an aisle with a sign that said something like “Women’s Lovely Items.” There, between of tubes of Vagisil and Spring Rain, was my cream.

I had two options: applicator shaft or vaginal suppository. I turned to my guide, but she had already high tailed it back to the safety of her counter, probably assuming that I or someone I loved had a vagina.

When I read the label more carefully, I saw that it said “Do not use unless you have had a yeast infection on your vagina before.” With those two strikes against me, I called the doctor. The receptionist answered.

“What’s your question?”
“I have a question about the warning label on my medication.”
“What’s it say?”
I told her. A pregnant silence followed.

I waited patiently while she checked with the doctor, pretending the applicator was a slide whistle.

“He says it’s fine.”

The entire episode made me feel kind of lost. Gone was the dermatologist of my youth. My new doctor didn’t provide the sense of security of one hand picked by my mom. I learned that we, the recipients of health care, must look out for our own interests. Yes, in the end, you could say that Patients is a Virtue.

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Aaron Kagan practices good hygeine.