Leg Length?

I got my physical two days ago. What joy. This time though, it went about a little differently. My mom had mentioned my ankle was still swollen from when I sprained it this past spring, so Dr. Sickle propped me up on the "examining table" for a little look see. As I laid down, she asked me if my back was as flat as I could get it. After I replied yes to this, she literally bursted out of amazement.
"Oooh! Oh, My! Oh wow, I can't believe this..." Evidently, I became rather antsy and asked what all the hubub was about. She proceded to tell me that I have the vastest leg length difference she has ever seen in any patient of hers. At first, I felt special. Until these words registered in my brain. Vast? Difference? And she's referring to my leg length?
"You mean my legs don't match up?" I asked.
"Precisely. There's about a 2 inch difference between them! I mean, WOW."
She went on to explain that my right foot is even larger than my left, and she hopes I measure my shoes by my right foot when I purchase new sneaks. Puh-lease, like I had any clue my feet were sized differently. Jeesh. She even told me my toe lengths were different. As if this brightened my day. Why doesn't she just slap a sticker on my forehead labeled ABNORMAL? And after all this, she didn't even tell me what was up with my still screwed up ankle.
The doc's scheduling an appointment for me at the hospital ASAP. I'm obviously an indelitcate creature to be sent to the hospital for unequal leg lengths.

P.S. She also made me aware that I'm not supposed to give out any personal information over the Interweb. Don't tell her she's in here.

Bloody Noses.

Yesterday morning, I had a bloody nose. And this morning, I had another. Why is it, that when it turns briskly cold outdoors, I always wake up with my nose bleeding? This is how it's always been. I'm just that girl everyone will look back upon 20 years from now saying, "Oh yeah, I remember her. She's the one with the nose bleeding problem." Isn't that how everyone wants to be recollected as?

The blood I'm so used to seeing drip into my bathroom sink is so familiar, I'm not even scared of it anymore. Back when I actually thought I was a hemophiliac, I'd cry for the hours my nose bled. Like back in the third grade. The day I had been anticipating for weeks in counting, the day the 3rd grade class would take the greatest field trip EVER --- the day I was carried off the bus in the arms of Mrs. Young, my jumper becoming blood stained, my face becoming tear stained. I sat outside the prinicpal's office the whole day sniffling into a bloody tissue. I specifically remember a 4th grade Amanda Shea in my face, asking what had happened. Now the experience comes back to haunt me, as my fellow soon-to-be graduates ask me if I remember that wicked awesome seal performance from when we went on that field trip back in third grade. Um, no?

And when people ask me if I've ever had this "problem" checked out, you know, by a professional nose expert. When I mention to someone that I've had my nose cauterized 4 times, their face usually turns sour at the thought of the process. What's especially humorous is when they dont know what cauterization means, and I explain to them that its like shoving a burning hot Q-tip up your nose to form a scab, which is exactly how it was first described to me. The look I get is one of awe and confusion. "OMG, I DIDN'T KNOW YOU GOT A NOSE JOB!"



Uh-huh, they listen well.