Study Anatomy
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lines winding beneath my skin. The way they stood out against my pale winter complexion. Had they always been that prominent? Was I dehydrated? Was something wrong?
I spent the next week surreptitiously studying other people’s hands. The barista. My mother. The guy in the elevator. Some had veins like mine. Some didn’t. I found no pattern, no answer, just a growing awareness that I had no idea what was normal and what wasn’t.Study Anatomy
Finally, I asked my doctor. She laughed (kindly






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