Broken Parts

I had annual ob/gyn appointment today. My dr asked me how I have been and then I had to give him the whole story about having surgery and getting pregnant in my rudimentary horn and then needing to have surgery again. He was pretty much floored. Said that he has never heard of that happening to anyone with my condition (although my other dr said that he has seen it at least twice before and I have heard about it happening) and said that I was just royally fucked up and probably needed to go in a medical journal. He might have worded it a little different but the message was the same. Oddly, I feel totally cool about all this. Special even! I always strive to be an individual and maybe even a little different. It would be nice if what is so special about me isn't hidden in my abdomen and needs to be explained with lots of medical jargon and drawings.

Which takes me back to my guitar that broke. When I called the guitar store that was repairing it to see if my guitar was fixed, the guy asked me what kind of guitar I had. When I told him he responded with, "OhhhHHHhhhh... The one with the broken neck!" I am not only famous for my royally fucked up uterus, I am famous for a royally fucked up guitar too!