Body language

This post is brought to you by the faintly-remembered feeling of pre-exam nerves. Visions of desk-lined gym halls and bored-looking teachers pacing the aisles keep flashing through my head, accompanied by an associated wave of nausea each time. It’s my Thai yoga massage assessment this weekend, which begins with a gruelling fifty question anatomy exam tomorrow morning. As such, I’ve spent the day trying to remember how to revise. The only part of my revision technique that I could remember was that it was always most definitely last-minute. My sisters and I all share the May trait of last-minute cramming and it has seemed to have worked out for us over the years, so I was fairly confident that it would work as it always had done. Hmmmm… not so sure now. Still, another default May trait is to always absolutely believe 100% that you are going to fail the exam, right up until the point you get a spoddy A.

Rather than completely regress to my youth, when I would have been cramming, high on coffee and chocolate, into the wee hours, I am endeavouring to benefit from my age-old wisdom (ahem) and have a chilled evening and an early night, having faith that I’ll come up with the goods tomorrow. This seems a particularly sensible strategy seeing as I was up at 1:30am this morning off to count bats on another dawn survey.

As such, I will keep this post brief, and just share with you some of the wonderful physiological and anatomical names that I have come across during my last-minute revision session today (doubling up as one final revision test for moi, hurrah). Our language is an endless joy of ponciness… 🙂

  • Islets of Langerhan (summat to do with hormones in the pancreas but sounds like it’s a faraway land straight out of Middle Earth)
  • pons Varolii (part of the brain that transmits messages between the brain and spinal cord)
  • mound of venus (a most whimsical name for the pubic ‘mound’ on a female, tee hee)
  • Node of Ranvier (found on a nerve cell)
  • Golgi apparatus (tiny structure in a cell)
  • Cerebellum (part of the brain that controls physical balance – I kind of feel this would be a pretty name if I ever had a daughter, although she’d possibly never forgive me…)
  • Medulla oblongata (another part of the brain – it’s a hotbed of beautiful, mysterious names, which is quite fitting I suppose – this part controls involuntary actions like the heart beat)
  • Acromion process (a bony projection on the shoulder blade [or, rather, scapula don’t you know] – sounds like a cool name for a rock band)
  • Popliteus (muscle on the back of the knee – cute)
  • Quadratus lumborum (muscle in lower back – my favourite muscle to say; it sounds all rounded and satisfying in my mouth)
  • Gout (a disease that fatties like Henry VIII get – I love its perfunctory shoutiness, like it’s telling you off for eating all the pies)
  • Dwarfism and Gigantism (to do with an imbalance of the Human Growth Hormone – all very ‘does-what-it-says-on-the-tin-ish)
  • Micturate – the feeling of needing a wee – so happy we have a word for this. From henceforth I shall often be heard saying, “I am so micturate right now.”
  • And finally, it seems you are never too old to snigger at the following words: penis, vagina, sphincter and anus. Go on, have a little chortle, you know you want to…. 😉

Anyway, hopefully the next time I take to the keys I will be a qualified masseuse – fingers, or rather, phalanges crossed… 🙂

 

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This entry was posted in Ecology, Grammatical pedantry, Literature, Thai massage. Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to Body language

  1. Ray says:

    nice one

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