While I was always that odd child, the kid that marched to the beat of their own drum, never in my life have I ever regretted being a bit unusual. On the contrary, I’ve spent most of my life feeling very proud to be different. But being different in medical terms is really not a good thing.
Being a unicorn in the medical sense means seeing multiple doctors and being told that while there is something wrong, they are unsure of what is the cause. It is having multiple tests done, many of which come out abnormal but with not enough information to give a clear diagnosis. It is literally being told by your primary care doctor, “I’m used to horses, I see an occasional zebra but you are a unicorn and I don’t know how to help you.”
After over a year of dealing with an unknown health problem, I would love to give up my unicorn status. While I’d love to simply be healthy, I’m willing to settle for typical symptoms of whatever is ailing me instead of my body’s atypical confusing bullshit. In the medical sense, being a unicorn is not all that magical and for once, I just want to be a boring horse.
Any other medical unicorns out there? Were you able to get a diagnosis?
Uh, I’m in just one of those moods. Have to laugh at myself cause I was just complaining about a book character the other today because he was always, “Whhhhaaa me! My life is sooo hard! (complaint, complaint, etc.)” And now I happen to be in “one of those moods”. Lame.
My artwork is colorful, random, glittery, loud, sparkly, quirky, and all around playful, very much like myself. With my favorite artists being Lisa Frank, Betsey Johnson, Amy Brown, and Josephine Wall, I’m hoping my art is just as fun as theirs. But what does it mean? Why am I spending all this time painting, throwing colors around, tearing petals off flowers, getting glitter literally everywhere?
Nikki Page Paintings 