I Went the Full 12 Rounds…and it’s a Draw

pic courtesy of uptill1.com/2009/08/05/are-dentists-real-doctors

So this morning I met with my dentist, the illustrious and esteemed Dr. Torquemada, a recent graduate summa cum laude of the Matchbook Cover School of Dentition and Inquisition.   His lovely assistant, Demento, took x-rays of my extremely aching tooth and the Doc gave me this diagnosis.  “There’s alot going on here.”

Now I have been going to Dr. Torquemada for a few years now…in fact I believe his new boat , Bite Me, was in fact paid by yours truly.  This is a nice man, as dental specialists go — he’s a rabid, I mean avid, fan of Ohio State and that’s good enough for me.  But today I expected a little more of a definitive answer to my horrid toothache than, “There’s alot going on here.”  Crap on a crutch; I could have told him that and saved us both the time.

Did he fix it?  Not really.  His assistant, Demento, shot me up with four needles full of whatever it is they’re using these days — and just as an aside if you haven’t had a shot through the roof of your mouth lately, I highly recommend you DON’T.  She then proceeded to do a deep cleaning around this tooth (which is actually a crown but you don’t need too many details).  Can you say “Ouch?”  She didn’t even wait for the anesthetic to fully deaden my mouth, she just jumped right in there with her pointy little instruments and began to engage in what felt like a boxing match with my tooth.

Then they took another x-ray.  The diagnosis then was, “Well, I don’t see any infection – it may hurt because your sinus cavity is full on that side and since you’re already taking antibiotics for the sinus infection, let’s give it a few days and see how it does.  If it still hurts on Thursday, call me and we may have to do a root canal then.”

Life would be much easier had he just done the dang root canal today and sent me on my way.  My tooth still hurts, and now I have to wait another miserable three days in which I know and you know my tooth is not miraculously going to stop hurting because that’s not how things work in the life of Linda.

I anticipate more shots and further pain Thursday or Friday.  Just call it a hunch.  At least today I made it out of the ring with just a few bruises and a sore mouth.  But let me catch that witch, Demento, behind the building when she’s not looking, and we’ll see how she likes ME using those little pointy instruments on her.

Fractured Fairy Tales…Or How I Survived Surgery

Hey kids – look who’s checking up on you.   Made it through the dreaded back surgery.  Finished  the grueling school studying session to get ahead and got that homework submitted – shoot I’ve already finished reading my texts for the next week.

I have had three days now of recovery from this surgery – the doc said 48 hours…close enough.  I didn’t exactly follow all her instructions…I got bored and moved around a bit, but she had told me that the surgery was so successful she felt it was alright for me to do whatever felt comfortable (with the exception of planting the garden) — so hanging out in the comfy chair reading a book, lying on the new couch watching very bad tv, or just taking naps qualified as recuperation in her estimation.  Of course going to a function at our church Friday night was probably overdoing it a bit – but I really wanted to be there because it was a special occasion.  That sort of hurt the back a tad – and I’ve been a real slug today.  I will probably be a real slug Sunday.  Now for the fun stuff…

So 8:00 in the morning, Wednesday, and me with no coffee, I walk into the office and the nurse says, “We are going to have to reschedule because your insurance still hasn’t approved the procedure.”   Devoted Spouse was having none of that – I was going to have that surgery come heck or high water and he would find a way to pay for it (this stuff costs roughly $6,000).  Bless his heart.  So in I go to get ready.  As I’m getting undressed the doc comes in, takes my hand and says if my insurance gives her any crap, she will severely discount my bill and not to worry.  That helped considerably. (I know they do this all the time, but it made me feel better that I wasn’t going to be presented with a huge bill).  I need a new oven, not a $6,000 doctor bill.

The nurse comes in with a shot of antibiotics (sort of like surgery condoms these days; it’s best to be prepared).  She asked me if I was nervous.  I responded by starting to cry.   She said, “I’ll go get the shots of Valium and be right back.”   She brought in two more needles and I knew life was about to get much calmer.  Yay.

We go in to “the room”…I stretch out on my tummy and get as comfortable as possible.  The x-ray technician and I become best buds – she spent an inordinate amount of time holding my hand, comforting me, and re-propping up my shoulder which was really killing me that morning.  Bless her heart.

And then it happened – my worst nightmare came to life.  I developed a case of gas.  This could only happen to me. The night prior to the surgery I ate a Fiber One Bar – what a stupid thing to do — note to anyone having surgery – do not eat a Fiber One Bar within 24 hours of your procedure.  Have you ever been in a situation where you have to (sorry) get rid of that gas and ya just want to hold it in forever but can’t?  I was so embarrassed but I told the x-ray lady – Hmmm, I’m so sorry but I seem to have a touch of gas.

I prayed for it to just be a teensy weensy episode and not anything like the killer poots from EmmaLou which can clear a room instantly.  She laughed like a hyena.  “Honey, you think no one has ever come in here and had the same thing happen?”  You don’t worry about a thing – you just fart to  your little heart’s content – we can handle it.  I know God will richly bless that woman for that remark because I was mortified.  So the minor (thankfully) gas attack came and went fortunately prior to the actual surgery.

The doctor comes in, rubs my shoulders, tells me it’s going to be a great procedure and I’m going to be just fine, not to worry and she’s going to talk me through the entire procedure.  If I wanted to, I could turn my head and watch the x-rays too.  Creepy but it’s like being at the movies — you don’t want to look but you open your eyes and peek out behind your splayed fingers anyway.  It was the coolest technology I’ve ever seen. All these x-ray pictures, and there were sonogram pics just flying out of another machine.  So cool.   As for pain, the last time I went to the Dentist and had a crown put in I had more pain and I wanted to take out a contract on him and have What’s-Her-Face from the ice skating world come break his kneecaps.  This back procedure was nothing by comparison.  I only felt like someone had pushed me hard on my back – that was it.

I laid on a gurney for an hour while the cement dried and hardened.  Bored to tears (although Devoted Spouse was doing his best to amuse me by having wheelchair races behind the curtain), all I could think of was what if what they shot into me isn’t really bone cement but it’s some concoction of ground up dead people’s bones and Elmer’s Glue?  It was not a pretty thought.  About that time, they allowed me to leave.  I walked out of the facility standing straighter than I had in four months (hallelujah!) and knowing that life was going to get better.

That’s my story.  Sorry it’s so long.  I’m doing really well but I’m still going to take a little longer break before I come back to blogging on a daily basis.  I promise to keep checking in.  I’ll try to find something funny to tell you.  Ok – here’s another chuckle for you.  Last night while standing in line at church to sign in, one of my friends came up behind me and slapped me on the back in greeting – she didn’t hurt me at all – but I freaked her out when I said – I just had back surgery and slapping me on the back is not a good idea.  I had a little too much fun at her expense.  It was worth it.

The Friday Five List

I just returned from physical torture and am feeling a bit out of sorts.  My brain cells aren’t at total capacity either;  I actually fell asleep during my anodyne (infrared light) treatment and took a 20-minute nap.

Because I have nothing to discuss at the moment I’ll simply give you a little list — how about Friday’s Five Favorites; five of my favorite anything.

1.  The movie, Moonstruck.  I loved the pairing of Cher and Nicholas Cage — what a great couple.  I also enjoyed the Italianness of the film, from the overdone gestures to the Dean Martin music and la bella luna.  I love this movie.

2.  The Foundation Trilogy series by Isaac Asimov — what an amazing mind that man possessed. I read everything he wrote.   He made me love the idea of robots and this must be where I got my twisted fascination for the robot in The Day the Earth Stood Still (Gort, Klaatu Barada Nicto) and my love of the silly robot on Lost in Space (Danger Will Robinson, Danger!).  While I watched I, Robot, it did not do Asimov justice.

3.  Black licorice.  I don’t care if it’s in strips or twisted or sitting under a candy shell in Good ‘n Plentys — I simply love black licorice.

4.  The smell of sheets that have dried on the line outside.  That fresh, clean aroma needs to be bottled and sold as a fragrance — I would wear it every day.

5.  Sitting on the beach inhaling that lovely intoxicating salt air while letting the rhythmic crashing of waves regulate my breathing.  Total bliss and relaxation.  I want to live at the beach.

That’s it.  Five of my favorites.  Want to share?  Tell me 5 of yours.

What the Heck is Fork Split?

Now that Devoted Spouse and I are both retired, we engage in an early morning activity we once had no time to enjoy.  No…not that activity…I’m talking about having breakfast together.  Together… with lots of time to enjoy a second pot of coffee, and while actually sitting down at the breakfast table.

Cholesterol be danged, we like bacon for breakfast.  We enjoy real caffeinated strong coffee for breakfast.  One of us enjoys eggs (that would be me) while the other one turns up his cute little nose.  We both enjoy various breads.  Our one salute to the diet and health aspect is to substitute Smart Balance spread for real butter.  I’m not that thrilled about the substitution, but I have accepted it.

One of our favorite breads is the old fashioned English Muffin — you know those wonderful squashed white bread thingies – Thomas’s English Muffins.   Not to get too far off the subject, but we visited England and they eat scones and crumpets – not English Muffins.  It would be silly to call crumpets ‘English crumpets’  in England just like it would be silly to call fried chicken ‘American fried chicken’  in America.   We know the French don’t call their potatoes French Fries, but then again,  personal experience has shown the French to be a bunch of arrogant, rude….oh I’m getting so off track here.  Anyway…we’re discussing English muffins.

As I was preparing our English muffins to be toasted, I had to finish slicing them open.  The muffins are placed in their little package “fork split” but that doesn’t open them completely;  hence, the slicing operation.   As I was slicing through the bread I wondered why anyone in their right mind would use a fork to partially cut open a muffin.  It causes a raggedy mess and makes the final slicing difficult and messy at best.  In fact, as I sliced one muffin, I noticed a tremendous amount of bread crumbs, many of which were rather large.   It seemed such a waste, that I took the following picture to demonstrate just how much left-over bread there is when slicing open an English muffin.

Now, it’s a bit difficult to tell, as my digital camera doesn’t work very well with close-ups, but that is an All-Clad  2-Tablespoon measuring cup of bread that didn’t make it into the muffin because some manufacturing geek thought it would be cheaper in the process to use a fork to split the muffins instead of a knife.  Two tablespoons worth!   If you multiply that by the number of muffins in each package, well, I’d wager you get at least one muffin’s worth of crumbs per package.  What a travesty.

Thinking maybe this was my fault for using a serrated knife to finish opening up the muffins, I tried a regular butter knife.  It made an unholy mess as I ripped open the muffins.  Then I took a fork and attempted to finish splitting the muffin apart – and I ended up with alot of crumbs and a place on my palm where the fork accidentally poked the crap out of me.   You simply have to finish the job using a serrated edge knife and that leads to all the excess pieces of muffin.

There is a distinct possibility that I have too much time on my hands.

Can You Haiku?

Not having anything in particular to discuss today, I embarked on a little writing exercise.   I like haiku, the Japanese poetry written in three lines with a certain amount of syllables per line.  Traditionally, haiku must be written about nature and it takes a specific form; the first line has 5 syllables, the second line contains 7 syllables and the final line contains 5 syllables for a total of 17 syllables. There are rules:   must be about nature, must include a season, it has to be in the above-mentioned three lines, and there has to be a point counterpoint aspect to the poem.

I threw out those rules as I wasn’t in the mood for nature.   EmmaLou, the Golden Destroyer, was close by so I wrote several haiku with the subject of EmmaLou.   Here’s what I came up with:

• Asleep on the couch / EmmaLou twitches with dreams / of life unfettered
• EmmaLou in blur / runs after a lone rabbit / safe under the shed
• Brown eyes in panic / hungry and can’t use /big can opener

I realize this isn’t award-winning haiku by any stretch of the imagination.  At least I kept to the 5/7/5 rhythm and the right amount of syllables.

So this is just me goofin’ around on an icy cold winter’s day.

• Ice falling in sheets / this weather makes me crazy / I should get a life

It beats sudoku.