SELF asked writers to salute some of the oft-ignored internal parts that help power their complex and amazing machine.
I burn my mouth on coffee.
I kick myself in the ankle with my other heel.
I remember the first time I realized their importance.
Later, in biology, I learned about the microscopic components of blood.
I was most taken with platelets.
A fraction of the size of red blood cells, they are charged with preventing bleeding and bruising.
Yet after high school, they quickly fall out of our consciousness (along with the Russian court).
As if this weren’t insult enough, platelets are colorless.
Their only chance to shine is when their sticky bodies band together to help create scabs.
But this is the beauty of platelets: They are the fallible body’s insurance policy.
They are ultimately the reason I don’t have to spend my life trapped on a cushion.
And that should give all my other organs something to cell-ebrate.
Foods such as spinach, lentils and asparagus keep your bone marrow healthy.
So when I do, I revel in the intensity and the drama.
What I don’t love?
Impassioned applause makes me cry.
Crying may actually release stress hormones from the body.
I used to find my tendency to cry at the drop of a curtain tragically embarrassing.
In college, I worried that the tears broadcast that I was too emotional, uncritical.
Now that I’m older and wiser, I’m less enamored with rationality.
And I understand that my ducts are more aware of what I’m going through than I am.
Thanks to my tear system, I realize what a wide capacity I have to feel joy for others.
Courtney E. Martin
Show your tear ducts some love- Here’s the easiest health advice ever: Blink.
Your blink rate slows when you’re at the computer; artificial tears can keep eyes fresh.
This is our organs' equivalent of chocolates and flowers.
The one exception to this rule is my bladder.
You back-burner her at your own peril.
I did that only once in my adult life.
My husband and I were taking the kids to a water park and had been driving for hours.
I wound up draping towels over the windows and peeing into the paper cup my coffee had come in.
I now see the positive side of having such an impatient organ.
I’m pretty sure my bladder is a Buddhist.
Stephanie Dolgoff
Show your bladder some love- When you gotta go, yougottago.
“You have a perfect cervix,” my doctor cheerfully told me.
“You could be a model for my med students.”
Still, I carried my strange secret with pride.
Even in sweatpants and a ponytail, I knew at least one part of me was a Platonic ideal.
Do you know that there is a section of the cervix known as thetransformation zone?
When my daughter arrived7 pounds, 4 ounces and right on timemy cervix had accomplished something truly praiseworthy.
And I knew in that moment I had entered my own transformation zone.
Sara Austin
Show your cervix some love- Ace your exams.
It works around the clock, like a robot or perpetual-motion machine.
But it never complains; in fact, I never know it’s there.
If I damage it, it heals without a fuss.
Like the best of friends, it never judges or points fingers.
Everyone knows you’re not supposed to mix hard alcohol with wineexcept my liver.
I awoke this morning as fresh and new as a kitten.
My liver took good care of me as I slept.
And the liver is magic.
It’s the wizard of the body, the man behind the curtain.
Without my liver, I’d be flat, boring and puritanical.
Kate Christensen
Show your liver some love- Watch your waistline to protect what’s inside.
I’m aware of the expansion and compression of my rib cage.
I think of nothingI only breathe.
It’s what yoga should do for me but doesn’t.
The lungs are the organ of breath, and breath is the source of life.
And life, as pretty much anyone will tell you, is kind of a miracle.
Emily Chenoweth
Show your lungs some love- Get moving.
Photo Credit: Grace Huang
