Dentist results: two friggin’ cavities.
In a number of ways, I feel like I did well in the genetic lottery. I’m not overly tall or overly short (desires to be shorter for gendered reasons aside), don’t have a horrible metabolism in either directions, like my skin tone, love my hair, and so on.
But for a few things, I drew my cards pretty poorly.
First, that lovely hair comes (presumably) from the same batch of genes that caused my ridiculously hairy arms and legs, of hair removal fame.
But, more recently, I have a number of genes manifest themselves that I thought I missed out on.
Everyone in my family, but particularly my mom and my brother, have bad stomachs. To the point they need medication to keep them under control. Well, over the last few months, I’ve had a few major (major, major) stomach aches that my mom is worried I’m manifesting that good ole’ Rodin stomach. (I’ve thus far kept it mostly under control via slight changes in my diet, and hopefully that’ll keep working.)
Now? My teeth. I’ve gone from having no cavities to (without changing diet or brushing habits) three in the past year and a half. My mom, again, has genes that – no matter how she brushes and flosses – just get cavities. I’m thrilled to be starting down that path, too.
I feel like next up will inevitably be my vision. I don’t have perfect vision, but I only wore glasses briefly in middle school and never really needed ’em.
But it seems like I’m destined for a life of toothless decay, squinting eyes, and upset stomach.
(Obviously I’m being over-dramatic, I’m just pissed about the two cavities!)