A MTHFR Problem

I think God created weird things for laughter and entertainment.  Weird and awkward things have always happened to me.  I am comfortable laughing at myself most of the time.  I have grown into this role.

High school graduation.  I needed clear deodorant for my sleeveless floral 90's beauty of a dress.  I did what any one would do- I raided my parents toiletry drawer. But only my dad had the clear variety.  So I used it.  Getting out of the car at dinner I looked in the mirror.  I had black armpits.  Really?  Yes.  The dermatologist thought it was odd.

Sevilla, Spain, Summer of sophomore year of college. Study abroad program.  I pack 7, count them, 7 pairs of undies.  Why?  I was backpacking through Europe after the program ended and needed space for who knows what.  Olive oil to bring home?  A Spanish sword? French wine?  I dunno.  My señora didn't get around to washing all 7 pairs of undies so I had to hand wash them and hang them to dry. Well, my Spanish hermana (aka my roommate, Ayana, and girl if you are reading this you better feel sorry for yourself!  Just kidding. I love you:) announced to the world I was wearing dirty underwear.  I was a bit more proper back then and was humiliated.  Odd. I know. Awkward event and awkward me.

I was at my female doctor office the other day.  The nurse asked why I was there.  I said, "You meant to say upstairs or downstairs, right?" She laughed and said I should work there.  Maybe I missed my calling.  Well, after asking my husband to be weighed instead of me (make yourself useful, eh?) and all that jazz, I met with my doctor.  I told him we had a lot of catching up to do.  It had been a while since I had seen him, and let me tell you a lot has happened in the past 6-12 months.  Some of it would allow me to call myself "Gladys".  I'll spare you the old lady details.  Bottom line is, I got some surprising blood test results.  I told him it was a very naughty acronym, MTHFR and yet he didn't laugh.  It is funny though especially for a lady that tries to keep her mouth clean.  I still think its funny and laugh when I hear my mom describe it.  Anyway, it's a gene mutation that doesn't allow me to process folic acid.  I shouldn't eat folic acid fortified things or take it in a vitamin.  I should take the more natural form of folate, which I do, and I think I am beginning to develop super powers from it.  Stay tuned.

It's significant because it causes a host of health problems and it's genetic.  My dad has had a few things despite being lean as a string bean.  He has begun to take my magic pill too and I might have seen his bald head start to glow the other day.  Or it could have been the sun.  I don't know.  The pills work.

A friend once told me that Psalm 139 is her birthday Psalm. She reads it in her birthday every year.  (which is so less weird than my new tradition- writing my eulogy/obituary.  Perhaps future blog post.)  Each person is fearfully and wonderfully made.  Made in the womb.  Handcrafted by a Creator that hung the moon, stars, planets.  Made the awkward and the smooth places. Knows our getting up and lying down.  Sees our thoughts from afar.  Knows us intimately.  Searches us and knows us.  Draws us gently to confession of offensive ways. And still loves us.  Crazy, huh?  I think so.