verbatim: I visit a specialist; some days later, we do our chores

[lolaraincoat]

grim-faced neurologist: I'm just checking your reflexes here ...

*whacks right knee with hammer*

grim-faced neurologist: Hmmmm.

*whacks left knee with hammer, harder*

me: ow?

grim-faced neurologist: Hmmm.

*gives right knee, then left knee, a really good thwacking*

me: Hey! Ow!

grim-faced neurologist: You don't seem to have any reflexes.

me: And yet I'm not dead.

grim-faced neurologist, agreeably: Funny that.

*************************

*fishwhistle, distraught, enters kitchen, clutching scrap paper and mechanical pencil*

Me: Is something wrong?

fishwhistle: You have to help me!

Me, suspiciously: Um ...

fishwhistle: I know I have to do the shopping, but --

Me: Yes?

fishwhistle: It's the list! I can't -- it's too -- I have shopping list writer's block!

Comments

[tinderblast.livejournal.com]

Or, if you wanted to swap careers and become a hitwoman, having no visible reaction to pain/stimuli would be a very useful and scary tool ...?

[lolaraincoat.livejournal.com]

True, true. Although at this point my imaginary fallback careers involve gardening, or farming. Or being a goatherd. I don't know if you need reflexes for those jobs or not.

[tinderblast.livejournal.com]

Goatherd, sure. You could impress the hell out of those goats by being able to take their butting and not flinching.

I can totally see you as an organic farmer, actually. Have you thought about doing this when you're 90 and silver-haired?

[lolaraincoat.livejournal.com]

Hell yes! (I think I need a goat icon.)

And I have thought seriously about throwing it all in and farming when I am, say, 45 and silverhaired. Why wait?