Tuesday, 10 March 2015

Emergency Treatment

          Today is something of a milestone, compared with recent events. I leaped out of bed - well hardly leaped, more like gingerly emerged - and proceeded to prepare for my morning shower. Alright, so that's no big deal, but the strapping was going to come off my toes, and they would soon be breathing pure, clean air. (The farmers aren't muck-spreading at the moment in our area.) The psychological effect of returning to something resembling normality is a great morale booster. What is more, this is the first day on which I am free of antibiotic eye drops. I have become accustomed to these, and am wondering whether I will experience withdrawal symptoms. My eyes are still a bit scratchy, but no doubt a solution ('scuse the pun)for that will be found soon enough.
          So you see, everything is working out fine. Even my visit to the dentist for emergency treatment yesterday, turned out alright in the end. Ah! You didn't know about that did you? About three weeks ago, one of my fillings broke. A quick call to 'la dentiste', bless her, revealed the bothersome fact that she had no vacancies for three weeks. So for that period I have been carefully guiding the tooth through the many, and dangerous, potentially damaging situations in which it might find itself. There has been no pain at all, so that helped. So yesterday, I took up my trusty crutch/walking-sticks and set off for the dentist.
          Now some months ago, having experienced some pain under one of my lower crowns, the dentist lady removed the wrong crown. I don't know how it happened, but there you are, it did. Well I don't hold grudges, and she is a lovely lady who doesn't stint on the time and effort she puts in on one's treatment. So I have in all magnanimity, forgiven her. Nice, yes? So apart from what I must now laughingly call 'emergency treatment', I suggested she might like to check the crowns now rather than wait until two months time, the original checking date. I hope you're still with me. Well in two months, give or take, it is the wedding anniversary of dear Lucy and myself, and the very last thing I would want is a dental restriction on my ability to enjoy a thoroughly good meal, at some lovely restaurant, at a lovely venue far from home. That's the plan, anyway.
          So let us return to the dentist's surgery. I laid me down on the couch, and she began her probing examination. It felt a little tinglesome, but nothing to worry about just yet. She probed further and further. Now there is a limit to how far one can crawl, on one's back, before falling off the couch beyond one's head. At that moment, I realised that I had been prodded, probed, spiked, broken and otherwise invaded rather too much of late, and it was all becoming rather tedious. Anyway, the dentist halted and said she would give me an anaesthetic. Oh joy! Another needle! Still, it was better than the alternative.
          In went the needle into my top gum, fairly painlessly I have to admit. Then mere moments later, she asked if the anaesthetic had taken effect. To be candid, I didn't really know. I didn't feel that odd, itchy, flaccid numbness that I usually feel at these times, so I said that I wasn't certain. "Never mind," she said (in French), smiling and picking up a drill, "we'll soon find out, won't we?"
          After she had chased me round the surgery for two or three laps, and I found myself trapped between her female assistant and a vast array of instruments which I could not comfortably negotiate, I finally submitted. Well there is a limit to how quickly one can run around a dental surgery on crutches. In any case, Lucy was still sitting quietly and not attempting to come to my rescue. Had she been sitting and knitting, with a waiting basket in front of the couch, I might have been more worried. (An allusion to a bit of French history there!) It was at that moment that I came out of my daydream, and observed that, indeed, the anaesthetic was working. The tooth was filled, and an appointment made for the next visit. Yes, I still have the future of my crowns to sort out. Then off we drove for home.

          All these happenings have not blinded me to the fact that I have run into a kind of psycho-spiritual cul-de-sac. Much as I want to write, I am finding that very soon I will be struggling to find anything appropriate to write about. It must be well known what my prime interest is in life, yet more and more it is becoming something that I find less and less able to share. So where I go from here, I do not know. One thing is for sure, I will continue to read your blogs with interest, and comment when I have something to say. Now, I can only wait, and patience is a virtue that I find so difficult to cultivate.

31 comments:

  1. But, Tom, you have a talent for humor, and the world needs (okay - I need) as much humor as possible. You also write engagingly, bringing your readers right into the scene with you, whether writing of your all-around-the-mulberry-bush escapade or your introspective journeys.

    What I'm getting at is - please don't be gone long. You'll be missed, seriously so.

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    1. Well, I can't promise anything you understand, but if a personal disaster threatens I'll keep a close eye on it......and report on it, so long as I'm able to drag my pain-ridden, protesting body to the lap top. Now I can't do more than that, can I? :)

      Thank you for your comment. It means a lot to be able to answer to a need.

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  2. Oh Tom, anything you'll write will be, as in the past, appropriate and interesting.
    "Sock it to me".

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    1. Thank you Ellena. When the time is right, I'll try to appropriately 'sock it, and see.'

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  3. You seem to have been going through it, one way or another, just recently Tom. I enjoyed ( rather more than you did, no doubt) you description of the dental visit and had happy views of Lucy sitting beside the guillotine!

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    1. Glad you enjoyed it Avus. The trouble is that she just so loves the kitchen. I'm convinced that has a part to play in my daydreams.

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  4. As tempting as it is to try to make some comment such as uneasy lies the tooth that wears the.... , just cannot do it.. :-)

    If we truly are cut from similar cloth, I believe an idea for a new post will eventually grab you by the scruff of the neck and demand to see this virtual light.

    Until the next time here or there, be well dear friend!

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    1. So glad you were able, valiantly, to resist making a comment along the lines you suggested. :)

      You may well be correct in your belief. I just cannot see a way ahead at present. And I will attempt to be well. My thanks.

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  5. :-) I'm confident you'll take the adventure God sends you, and give us reports if able.

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  6. I can only echo what everyone else has said so well - hear hear! Hear here!

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    1. Thank you also, dear Natalie.

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  7. Too bad you had such an athletic procedure for the new crown. However, the televised coronations I've seen could be livened up if there was more running and chasing in them. Is any country's royalty working on this?

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    1. I don't think they are Geo. I have, of course, sent out a number of invitations to undertake the task, but I keep receiving replies along the lines of, "Thanks, but no thanks!" and "Don't call us, we'll call you!" I think the problem is that image of Lucy, knitting, with the waiting basket. Royals are a funny, suspicious lot. Now I must sign off and eat my brioche, courtesy of 'Le Palais'.

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  8. Ah, you've had your trials but making the most of them with humour, as the others say. Onwards to the next episode, awaited eagerly (but don't break anything!).

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    1. I'll try really hard not to break anything. But then I say that every time. :)

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  9. "Much as I want to write, I am finding that very soon I will be struggling to find anything appropriate to write about. "
    might i suggest that you do as i do, and write about things that are entirely inappropriate? the tale of the diaphanous underthings proves this!

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    1. Mmmmm! You didn't see the pictures I deleted! And you won't!

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  10. I hesitate to say I've been enjoying your medical adventures. But . . .

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    1. Pleased about that, Bruce. It seems a small return on the weekly humour you post for everyone's enjoyment.

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  11. I'm glad to hear you're recovering well in all the ways that count. Sometimes it's more difficult to focus on the esoteric when purely practical matters take precedence. In the meantime, I also enjoyed the chase scene around the dental office.

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    1. Ah yes! The imagination can be a wonderful thing. :)

      I agree with you when you mention the difficulties of focussing on the esoteric under the current conditions. I just hope this current drought doesn't last too long. But if it does, I just have to be patient!!

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  12. Hi Tom
    A celebratory occasion indeed –what with toes breathing fresh air and able to take a man sized bite once more maybe it’s time to open a bottle of French champagne along with the local delicacies. Now I must say I just can’t stand that odd, itchy, flaccid numbness from the anaesthetic so the last time I had a filling I took the “cold turkey” option and turned up the music as my dentist went on with the drilling. But if I was able to launch into a daydream as you so aptly describe maybe I might opt for the needle next time. Maybe you can tell us about experiencing the local wine and culture in the next post, which I trust your soon able to enjoy as part of the anniversary date.
    Best wishes

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    1. In tune with what appears to be an effective, French, pain management system, I doubt that I could have refused the anaesthetic. I shudder at the thought of the "cold turkey" option. It reminds me all too clearly of my first visit to a dentist in the UK as an adult. The guy was kneeling on my thighs to hold me down. And that was no daydream. Now although my dentist is a woman, the possible pleasure of being knelt on by her would be more than offset by the business at the sharp end.

      As for the anniversary celebrations, they come up in about two months, so there is still yet time.

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  13. Teeth, toes and eyes, may all sort themselves out soon. These things do tend to clump.

    I got the Madame Defarge reference. Ha.

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    1. Teeth, toes and eyes are not unlike certain London buses. Chop! Chop!

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  14. Puns and dreams and running about on crutches ... Prost!

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  15. Thank you RW. Never a dull moment on this side of the pond.

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  16. It seems that things have really fallen into place there, Tom! Neatly, if I may add. It's rare for happenings to synch up cleanly like that, where the good vibes are kept consistent all around. Even more so when one of those beats involve extensive dental treatment, in all the nerve-wracking ways that it could get. Though I guess you can owe that to the right dental procedures, as much as your determination to simply go through it all. In any way, good going for you. Thanks for sharing that! All the best to you!

    Karen Perry @ Brookside Dental Center

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  17. Pray contemplate, new POSTS
    on questions bold, mystery UNFOLDS
    From heart or mind let the light SHINE
    Imagination YOUR MASTERS MIND

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    1. It is rare that I have felt so inwardly blind. I do not know how else to answer. I must wait, in faith, that the Way will be opened in the Master's good time.

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