Egg

I think I'm going completely insane.
Lying on the exam table at the hospital with a camera aiming at my left ovary, I stared at the black round object on the monitor and felt a rush of warmth pouring out from the pit of my stomach when Dr. Liu said, "Here's an egg ready for ovulation. There are two follicles here and here." My eyes followed the cursor to two smaller dots on the monitor. I was suddenly overwhelmed with emotion.
"That's good, isn't it?" I wondered why I said that.
He turned his face toward me. In the dark, I couldn't see his eyes. "What?"
"I mean, the ultrasound images look okay, right?" my voice cracked in the middle of 'right'.

Never name anything.
Unlike amputees who often report how they could still feel the lost limb, I've never missed or felt the ghost of my right ovary. It went bad. We got rid of it. End of story.
I have, however, developed this strong attachment to my leftover left ovary. Sort of like a comradeship and, to a certain extent, this is totally justifiable. After all, I've got all my eggs in one basket, literally. No wonder I'm protective of the basket.
I think my affection, or very strong possessiveness, toward my leftover left ovary started the day I named it, which was also the day I lost my right ovary.

I don't know where I'm going with this.

After the ultrasound, I went back to the doctor's office. Right next to the many pictures of my left ovary was a measurement of my uterus (mm): 70.5 x 41 x 41.5.

On the bus ride back from the hospital, a little girl (she can't be more than 2 or 3) was counting for her own amusement. "One, two, four, six, seven, eight, nine, ten! One, two, four, six, seven, eight, nine, ten!" Her young mother corrected her each time, but 3 and 5 never made it.
After a while, a couple of random middle-aged women tried to help, and in no time, almost every adult in the back section of the bus was teaching the kid how to count to ten... correctly.
The little girl was still only counting those eight numbers when we got off the bus.
I don't know what the big fuss was about. I never liked odd numbers when I was young, and I used to think 1, 4, and 7 shouldn't belong to the sequence 'cause all the other numbers have curves.

I still do.