#flashfictionchallenge2017

Female; Male

Genre: political satire

Location: emergency room

Object: fake mustache

           A woman needs an emergency pregnancy checkup but a pre-existing condition stops the emergency room from helping and the front desk offers solutions.

The ER was imposing as I walked through its looming shadow from the parking lot. I had heard with the new health care in place that less women were going to see doctors and getting help. Exaggeration. But after today I agreed on how bad it truly was.

I entered the building; stomach rocking with each step. The feeling of someone stabbing the bottom of my ribs ever present. Approaching the front desk, I met a young woman. "Hello," I said to her as I began pulling out my id's and insurance cards, "I think there's something wrong with me and I need to see a doctor right away."

She looked up and gave me a confused smile. "I'm sorry but as you're not male we can't help you here." I stopped.

Surely, I must have heard her wrong. "I'm sorry? I'm having a child soon and something is wrong. I need to make sure that they're safe. Isn't this the emergency room?"

"Yes, it is," she responded, setting her phone to the side, "I understand that you need help but according to our health care system, being female is considered a pre-existing condition."

Now I knew something was wrong. "Pardon?" I asked a bit perplexed.

"And as such," she continued, "we cannot take any one who might cause a hazard or extra charges to our facilities. Sorry. I don't make the rules here."

At once my pregnancy brain went into over drive, making my blood boil. "Then what am I supposed to do? This is an emergency room! I'm pregnant and need help!" I didn't care if my exclamation was louder than I would have liked but I didn't want my child in any sort of danger. What the woman asked next made my mouth drop.

"Well, have you considered a sex change?" She looked serious.

"I'M PREGNANT! I can't have a sex change right now!" Was this girl a twit or just rudely pulling my leg.

"You still could, we would just also have to perform an abortion. Of course, you'd have to be on trial during the procedure too," she informed me as she began shuffling in a drawer next to her.

"Trial?!" By this point I was getting increasingly frustrated. And the audacity to even think I would want to get rid of my child.

"Abortion is considered taking another human's life and as such you would be charged with murder."

Wha...!!! "What about Roe v. Wade? Don't I have abortion rights from that?" I questioned. I remember learning that in school when I was a child because it seemed like the only case everyone referenced when it came to abortion debates.

Her response was so rehearsed that she didn't even look up at me while continuing in her desk. "The supreme court overturned that case in favor of the likely-hood that the child would be born male. The Unborn Victims of Violence Act was amended to help protect that cause. As the case may be, males are needed to grow a stronger society. Changing your sex, you would also be fined."

Males make a better society? And why in the world would I be fined for the sex change? That doesn't seem right for those who do switch. "Why?!" I hoped that she would give a decent answer.

I was wrong. She replied with all honesty, "Every time you would use a public restroom you would have to be monitored by the government to make sure you aren't only going in there to stare at others or harass them. That's a lot of money used to keep everyone safe you know." She came back up and had a stack of brochures and fliers.

"Harass them!? I'd be the one being harassed," I snapped back at her, "Why not use that money for something productive, like education?! And how would they even know?"

"Oh," she stated off-handedly, "You would have a permanent marking placed on your forehead stating that you were previously female."

I stared at her for a moment letting what she had just professed sink in. Truly this girl wasn't as dumb as what she was saying. "That's ridiculous."

"Maybe you should have thought of this before you decided to be born female." She shrugged picking her phone back up; probably thinking that was the end if the conversation.

"I didn't decide to be female; that's how I was born! This is insane," I shouted. Nothing she had told me made sense. Just because I was a woman I had to be treated differently? "So, if I merely look like a male I can receive a checkup? Even if I'm pregnant?" I inquired hoping she would see how ridiculous the rule was.

"Yes. We accept all humans that are male no matter their conditions. We understand there are some things they just can't help." The way she said it like it was common knowledge and that we should feel for them was inconceivable.

I stood there dumbfounded. What has this country gone to that the politicians decided being male was better than female? That abortion was murder even if it was to save the mother's life? That the government could control people like they were little toys that could be thrown out if broken?

She handed me the stack of papers that she had pulled out earlier. All for abortion clinics, sex change doctors, and plastic surgeons. "If you do decide to return, I recommend these places for a new and better you." And the way she said it; like being male would improve my life. Unbelievable.

"How about a joke shop?" I snarked, "If I get a fake mustache you wouldn't even know the difference. But the joke shop is more real than this health care system." I turned, pages dropping to the floor. The sound of my heels clicking on the linoleum tiles as I left.

"Have a nice day," she chirped. I gave her and the ER a bird in return.