I am reading a medical report done on me in April 1994. I was 18. I was having my second Marfan Syndrome screening, which was inconclusive. Anecdotal medical evidence states that my heart should have exploded by now if I do have Marfan, so I guess I don't. But back then I did have my bowly bowl. The report states:
"Examination of the thorax shows a striking pectus excavatum..."
I don't know what the doctor meant by "striking," but perhaps that meant "bad" and perhaps she should have suggested surgery, which would have been far less traumatic and painful at age 18 than it would have been now? I could picture 18-year-old me not wanting to have the surgery at that time. Start Smith a semester late? (this would have been around the time I got my acceptance letter) That would have meant "not moving away from the house of horrors on schedule," which 18-year-old me would have HATED. It probably would have been less painful to do it at 22, after college and before the exciting and fulfilling post-collegiate period of 1998-2003, where I did a bunch of stupid shit that in retrospect was completely expendable.
I think I am going through all those stages: denial, anger, fear, and ultimately acceptance. This is my blog, so I can be as insufferably turdlike as I want. I will state right now that I will not be insufferably turdlike on the Austin Improv Forums. That is in poor taste.
SOCK and SNAIL
supremely awesome puppets
take on
a non-puppet improv outfit
tonight at the
AIC CaGeMatCH
11pm
The Hideout