A dentist examined my teeth today. That is the first time I've seen one in years. She kept tapping on my individual teeth and saying things to her assistant like "(tap) Number twelve gone. ( tap) Number 11 gone" and so-forth until I lost count of how many teeth she said were "gone." I didn't know exactly what she meant by "gone." Most of my teeth are still there, though I'm missing a few, but not as many as the number she said were "gone." It sounded so... so final! Turned out, not surprsingly, that she wants to pull out a bunch of my teeth. I asked how many and she said, "Without x-rays... six."
I'll be the first to admit that I'm terrified of dentists. No, that's wrong. What I'm actually terrified of is having dentists doing unspeakable things to my teeth. Like pulling them out. When I think of going to have multitudes of my teeth yanked out, my mind runs screaming and hides in a closet.
So I decided to hang onto my teeth as long as I can. I'm not in pain, don't have sensitivity in my teeth. I'm willing to wait until they become a problem to give them up. It makes perfect sense to me. So I don't want to hear any horror stories about what could happen if I don't go ahead and have them removed right away. My mind is made up and that's that.
As for the rest of me, my wounds are healing well, even the new spot on my back. It's looking more like I have a chance of getting the orthopedic surgery on my legs. And the more likely it becomes, the more apprehensive I become. For me, it's like jumping off a cliff without knowing if it's 6 feet to the bottom, or 600. And I'm even more afraid that I won't be able to get The surgery. From where I sit, it's like looking into a thick wall of fog that has scary noises drifting out of it.
When I'm not fretting about that, I'm huffing and puffing with consternation and flaring my nostrils with indignation. Someone had been coming into my abode while I was asleep, throwing things away that I wanted to keep, like the last piece of some date-nut bread that I was planning to eat, and a plastic bag containing packets of condiments that were very handy to have since the kitchen here is very stingy with them. Also, this person moved things around, even hiding some of them in my closet so that I didn't know where anything was. It's not as if I can get up and search for things, you know.
Today one of the workers came in and, without a word to me, began rearranging my things. She started to stuff my soft drinks in the closet but I told her not to. Then she "inspected" everything on my bedside tables, and grabbed things that I need to have with reach, like a few napkins which I took away from her. She seems to believe that, when I need some of these objects that are crowded onto my bedside tables, it's a simple matter to get them from across the room, by using The Force or some such levitation capability.
This is driving me crazy! You can bet that if someone went into her house and started deciding what needed to be thrown out and then rearranged all the furniture and belongings to suit themselves, she wouldn't like that at all. This little tiny half of a room isn't much, but it's MINE ! Pfffft! I'm going to talk to the administrator, if I can get hold of him, and tell him that this is utterly unacceptable. It's disrespectful. Sure, this space is part of the nursing home, but it's where I live and that should be respected.
Grrrr.
And that is that, dear friends. Take care of you and yours, sweet people.
Below: Goldilocks is apprehended.
How's your teeth now? It really isn't advisable to take your oral health very lightly. I understand that you want to hold on to your teeth for as long as you can, but the infection may worsen to the point that it may require more severe procedures for it to be treated. I do hope you consider trusted clinics before things get out of hand.
ReplyDeleteJairo Chavez