Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome

I'm fairly certain (99.9%) that I am affected by EDS (Classical Type). I once spoke to a dermatologist about it, and after a few questions¹ he informed me that it's "nothing to worry about" because my symptoms were not terribly great. Further research on my part, however, revealed that he was only partly correct, which did not surprise me as he was an Army doctor and had previously, concerning another condition with which I am mildly afflicted, instructed me to "Google it" if I wanted more information². The correct part of his prognosis is that the symptoms I display are not life-threatening (which, to the Army, meant unimportant), but it is certainly not "nothing to worry about." A sufficient or persistent force (lifting a heavy object or running long distances, for example) will subluxate my left shoulder or left hip, respectively, so I must be careful to not overexert these joints. Many of my joints are double-jointed and/or susceptible to subluxation, including wrists, elbows, hips, shoulders, thumbs, pinkies, and ankles. Also, I have moderate skin hyperextensibility, muscle hypotonia, and joint hypermobility, and I have at least one spheroid on my left forearm (feels like a BB under the skin).
Why should you care? Well, if you're related to me on my mother's side, there is a chance that you, too, are affected by Classical Type EDS because I'm fairly certain (again about 99.9%) that I inherited it from my maternal grandfather (it's autosomal dominant). Because the symptoms vary greatly in severity, you may have it and not notice, but double-jointed thumbs may be a good indicator. If you're interested in learning more, check out the links provided throughout this post or, in the words of perhaps the worlds greatest doctor, Google it. (Hey, at least I gave a link.)

¹Doc: Can you touch the tip of your tounge to the tip of your nose?
Me: No.
Doc: Are you very flexible?
Me: Yes. *places foot behind head*
²Additionally, when I asked how to spell keratosis pilaris (I actually said, "How do you spell that?" because I could barely discern what he'd said), he seemed very agitated that I was so stupid. To that colonel who worked in dermatology at Madigan Army Medical Center in the fall of 2003 (who shall herein remain unnamed), I point out this web comic. Essentially, I mean that that doctor is a jackass.

Which Historical Lunatic are you?

Which Historical Lunatic Are You?
From the fecund loins of Rum and Monkey.

Arise, Chicken!

May 9, 2006:

As Jason and I walked up the long hill from the ferry terminal to the path leading through the woods to his house, my weary legs groaned from a marathon two days prior, and I continually forced myself to take in the bright, beautiful day on Anderson Island and not stare numbly at my feet. During one of many transitions from feet to sky, my eyes caught sight of a mailbox with "JOE PEPIN" stenciled in black letters on a white reflective background. Something deep in my brain recognized the name and vainly vied for my conscious attention, but he was lost in the sights of the oceanside farmland mingled with dense evergreen forest, not to mention distracted by my groaning quadriceps. We continued up the hill, and I thought little more about the mailbox and its owner.
At the next building about fifty meters farther, Jason remarked that the owners of this place kept fighting roosters, to which I replied, "No way. We're not in Puerto Rico, man." As we neared the "game cock" pen, there were several of the menacing beasts wandering aimlessly outside the roadside pen.
A rattled and wide-eyed Jason exclaimed, "There out!" and seemed to think that these prized fighters would pounce upon us at any moment like starved wolves.
"They're not going to hurt anything, but someone might want to know their chickens are out," I replied, peering around the yard for the chickens' owner.
Seeing no one in sight, we walked toward the gate and called out a greeting. A man appeared shortly, but I didn't see where he came from--somewhere to the left of my vision as I watched Jason warily watching the chickens. "Uh, hello?" he said, obviously unsure why we were there.
"Your chickens are out," I said flatly, motioning toward the fowl.
The man looked around at the birds and swore, "Damn chickens." If the targets of his curse understood, they hid the fact well and just ignored him, roaming and pecking and clucking.
"You want some help getting them back in?"
"Sure."
As we helped herd the chickens through the gate, the broken latch of which was responsible for the escape, Joe introduced himself, and we chatted for a few minutes. Once the poultry was secure, Joe asked where we were heading and if we wanted a ride, and we graciously accepted--not because it was too far, but because we only had a short time before the next ferry and still needed to paint some of the trim on Jason's house. During the 5-minute ride, a message finally reached my conscious mind: Joe Pepin is the guy who did the voice for the Curious George plush doll! That's right!
"Wait a minute," I said, "I heard you on 103.7 The Mountain last week. You're Joe Pepin, the guy who did the voice for the Curious George plush doll, right?"
"Yeah, that's me," he replied.
The last few minutes of the ride were filled with conversation of his home studio, other voices he'd done, and Anderson Island, sanctuary for celebrities, and we told him some stuff about us, too.
And that's how Jason's house got painted.