A Case Against Getting Your Own Medical Records

May 12, 2009 at 8:31 am Leave a comment

I’m a Spaz. This is not the same objective statement so kindly provided by schoolchildren, but the bona fide conclusion of my physical therapist. Of course, medheads think they’re clever by couching it in medical jargon, but when I read “poor body awareness” on my chart, I knew exactly what she meant.

Of course I know I’m a spaz. You’d think I would have picked it up by having it said to me about 526,000 times from kindergarten to high school. I think it stopped around the time I got breasts. Who cares if someone flops around if you have a chance to cop a feel while they’re doing so? Remind me to Twitter Katy Perry with an idea for her next single “I kissed a Spaz, and I missed her mouth.”

According to some teacher handout that I found on the first Google search listing because I was too lazy to go any further, knowing where your body is in space, right and left discrimination, and spatial relations are all components of body awareness and necessary for learning.

What it should have said was knowing where your body is in space, right and left discrimination, and spatial relations are all components of body awareness and necessary to not make your early school years a living hell just because those girls who take ballet class know their right from their left, where their limbs are at any given time, and how far away they are from stuff that they could bump into.

I’m going to use every search engine I can, find everyone I went to school with, and sue each one of these
little punks for violating my right under the ADA not to be ostracized.

I didn’t want to be a ballerina, anyway. (Bloggers’ disclosure: that is a lie.) Tulle is the most uncomfortable material known to mankind. Look at this girl-she can’t even turn around in her tutu because she’s in so much pain.

That’s OK. She’s probably one of the kids who made fun of me.

I suffer from Positional Dyslexia, (or as my husband says while giving me driving directions, “I meant the other left!) lack of spacial acuity, poor hand/eye coordination, and I’m double-jointed. I flop around like a fish while doing simple activities like walking, not because of my lack of grace, but because my mind is in the same place where Einstein’s was while he was trying to work out his Theory of Relativity. And who says you have follow the rules of movement that the man told us to follow?

I may be a spaz-but I’m an anarchist genius spaz!

Now will someone please tell me if my left elbow is anywhere in the vicinity of the edge of a table?

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Entry filed under: Uncategorized.

Oh no, Not THE DOG! Don’t Play Pattycake with My Balls!

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