Gushing aside, I learned that I have yet another birth defect. (And wow- this was not caught by previous chiropractor.) I have an extra thoracic vertebra* and my tailbone is not fused right to my lumbar something or other and I was amused at Dr. H's remark that I am really cool anatomically. I totally agreed, then underwent the bliss that is traction and then the scary cracks that are adjustment.
After I drove away, though, all my outsider perception stuff flooded out and I'm really fucking bummed out now. I had just this week sent out some emails to teratology organizations to ask where to start researching and they all had no help at all other than genetic counseling-and I'm assuming insurance doesn't indulge either curiosity or the growing conviction that one was perhaps altered by alien technology as a fetus.
Dr. H mentioned the "way the Good Lord made ya..." which was sweet but added to the frustration of wanting to know WHY. Then, in the teary aftermath, I surrendered a little and decided that The Good Lord Who Made Me was Ganesha. Shane helped me pollyanna-fy, too. Looking at those x-rays made me glad I can walk 98% of the time. I have some bone degeneration and also a leg shorter than the other and my crazy monkey toes need to be addressed when the foot scanner's not b0rked.
*So. Thirteen** lumbar vertebrae. That would have REALLY tickled the medieval Witch Hunters, had they not been ignorant, misogynist fuckwits. (As an occulty type with a bunch of "devil's marks" I love the extra witchiness of my oddities. They'd have burned me for sure.)
**You know, 'cause witches have 13*** sabbats? Full moons per year...
***Feel free, anyone, to nickname me Thirteen, by the way. OK. Have blogged myself into cheer.