As it turns out – My Neck Didn’t Eat My Twin

The dermatologist and her physician’s assistant have decided that my leaky neck is a branchial cleft cycst, which has resulted in several versions of the following conversation:

                                                  

Me:  What records do you need sent to offsite storage?

Co-worker:  The four boxes along that wall and… and…  Your neck is wet.

Me:  It’s a birth defect.  So, you needed to send these four boxes, and what else?

That’s right, my leaky neck is a birth defect dating back to my embryonic development.*  Oh, and the good news is that the liquid, I habitually dry with my fingertips 20… 80… a billion times a day, is probably fluid draining from one of my sinuses.+

Also, my leaky neck may provide helpful clues to my past life or lives!^  But, then again, maybe it’s nothing more than a weird neck thing that makes me a special and unique snowflake.  Either way, it’s nice to know that it’s not leaking something horrible like spinal fluid~ or tears from a parasitic twin. =

* Maybe something did go wrong when my mom smoked that marijuana laced with opium while she was knocked up with THIS GIRL.  (True story.  My mom decided to purge her soul of this deep, dark secret when I was in college.  Because, she knew by then that it hadn’t “messed” me up too terribly.)

+ I’m not sure whether feel more disgusted by the fluid or less disgusted when I run out of Kleenex and am forced to wipe snot on my hand.  Or, maybe I need to embrace the fact that I’m 65-years-old and buy more pocket packets of Kleenex.

^ Okay, I’m torn on the topic of reincarnations.  Similarly, I’m undecided on aliens, ghosts, and marriage (homo- and heterosexual).  But, right now I’m reading Mary Roach’s Spook: Science Tackles the Afterlife, and she points out:  “Among cultures that believe in reincarnation, congenital abnormalities are commonly viewed as clues to a child’s past life.  Often they are tied in with the death of the supposed previous personality.”  (Roach 37)  So, maybe in a past life I was shot in the neck.  OR, EVEN BETTER!  Maybe I was a Native American and in the heat of battle, I was stabbed in the neck with an arrow.

Of course, Roach goes on to say,

Facets of a past life are suggested as explanations for complexion irregularities, stockiness, third nipples, albinism, posture, gait, fear of women, fondness for toy airplanes, cleft lip, pimples, speech impediments, widely separated upper medial incisors, and “a fondness for eels, cheroots and alcohol.”  Viewed through such a broad eyepiece, reincarnation is an easy sell.  Take a child and all her hundreds of unique features: How hard would it be to find one or two that seem linked to a feature of someone you know who has died?

(Roach 39).  Okay, maybe my leaky neck is nothing more than a birth defect.  But, now that I’ve been thinking about Native Americans, I have a jonesing to hit up the Spirit Mountain buffet…

~ There’s a distinct possibility that I watch too much TV and that medical shows like House leave too much of an impression on me.

= It’s been confirmed – I watch too much TV, and that appears to include movies such as The Dark Half and Basket Case.

Fake Friends

I watch way, WAY too much TV.  It’s gotten to the point where I have flashbacks to television shows.  I might as well be the guy from “Dream On”.  What?  You’ve never heard of “Dream On”?  EXACTLY!

During college, I studied in Greece for a term.  I missed a lot of things from back home – my friends, my cat, NOT having to use a hand towel to dry off from a shower, and my stories.  The year was 2001, and “Buffy the Vampire Slayer” was still on WB.  I even talked one of my friends into recording Buffy while I was away.  My trip was great and upon returning stateside, I was so looking forward to becoming reacquainted with my three besties -  Buffy, Xander, and Willow.  I powered through those VHS tapes in no time and soaked up every second of season five.  Suddenly, I was watching the last episode of the season.  BAM!  Buffy died and a note thanking fans came on the TV.  My heart sank.  It was like losing a friend – a friend my own age.  We weren’t even half way through college and she was torn out of my life?  NooooooooooooooooOOOOOOOOoooooooooooo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Yeah, I know that wasn’t the end of Buffy.  The show simply moved from WB to UPN.  But, you have to remember – this was back when I could only access Al Gore’s interweb via a dial up connection and a long distance call, so I didn’t do it all that often.  Plus, back then I assumed that the internet was a better place to find porn than viable information on anything that would actually matter to me.  Who knew, right?

Now that I’m a little older, but not necessarily more mature, I still watch a lot of TV.  In this day and age, I catch up on most of my stories thanks to the internet.  The problem is that I’m reminded daily about how much I can recollect from all of the many, MANY hours I spent in front of the television set.  I haven’t seen it since 1994, but I can quote “Cool Runnings.”  Just earlier this week I referenced “Groundhog Day” – in depth – to a coworker.  That’s another movie that I haven’t actually seen since at least 1998.  Within the last month, I caught myself thinking about “Adventures in Babysitting,” which then transitioned into “Masters of the Universe.”  Because, until two minutes ago, I was convinced that Thor (the gruff blonde mechanic) was played by Dolph Lundgren.  Color me surprised when I discovered that it was Vincent D’Onofrio.  (Props to you, Vincent D’Onofrio!  I know you best from “Mystic Pizza,” “Men in Black,” and “Law & Order: Criminal Intent.”  But, seriously, you convinced a 6-year-old that you were Dolph Lundgren – now THAT’S acting!)

When I got to college, the big concern was over drinking, which lead to the hot button Resident Advisor question – “Are you making friends OR drinking buddies?”  Well, now that my 20s are slipping away like sands through the hourglass (Side note: despite my television addiction, I have an allergic reaction to soap operas.  (See: Changing the channel)), these days I would almost welcome drinking buddies.  I have a great group of friends, but they either have significant others, are on a self-imposed social timeout while losing weight or are out being productive members of society.  And, I don’t know what it is, but there’s just part of me that thinks it’s too much if I was to ask everyone I know to come over and entertain me.  So, either I need to start going to the gym (or volunteering at a food kitchen) more, or…  I can get all comfortable and cozy up with my fake friends and my real cats.  I want to believe that I’d be better without TV, but I don’t know if I’d want to live in that world.  (It sounds like it could be an episode of “Sliders.”  I wonder if it's an episode I've seen before...)