From pure joy to no joy at all

Another classic morning, a morning which in many ways tells the story of my life.

I have to go back to last night to really add some sense to what happened, so (in short):

Two of my coworkers are leaving; they have both gotten jobs elsewhere, so this week is the last week I get to see them at work. One of them invites us girls from the office to a night at her house, and asked us to bring something for dessert.

It was a lovely house, just the right size and very tasty furnished but what really took my breath away was the view. The house is placed rather high in a small mountain, huge windows showed a strikingly beautiful view over the surrounding landscape. There was hardly anything which gave me the feeling the house was a semi-detached house in a development.

We were served a very tasty soup with freshly baked beguettes with herbes and garlic (half done from the shop, but that is just as nice as home made).

The spirits were high, gossip flourished and the laughter roared more than just a few times. A lovely evening out with the girls.

I brought a cheesecake. The cheese was the wrong kind, the jelly was the wrong flavour and the youghurt as well, but I drowned the heartshaped cake in an abundance of strawberries, thinking if the cake was inedible, the strawberries would still be nice.

The girls had brought a chocolate cake, an apple pai with icecream, strawberries, water melon... all in all it was a feast! A real treat on a weeknight.

It all resulted in a very late night and it was way past midnight when I arrived back home.

At home my youngest kid, who is in the middle of growing age, woke up; his thighs hurt so badly. I spent most of the night comforting, massaging and soothing the little man.

We both finally fell asleep, and the next thing I know is waking up with the panicking feeling of something being wrong. And it was:

A fairy must have turned off all the alarm clocks because I had overslept. I got the kids dressed,  organized a search for my kid’s other soccer boot, made lunches (that alone was an accomplishment as my oldest kid had people over for an overnight movie thing, and they had been cooking some time during the night), rushed one kid off to school and another one was dropped off at the kindergarden. My car was having service done at the garage, so I drove there and dropped my beloved Hyundai Santa Fe off.

My job was on a trip today; a lovely, social event with hikes and lovely food and great company. Well, I was late for that, so they left without me.

So, by 9:30am I was on the street unshowered, with no car, no trip, no driver’s lesson as that was canselled so I could go on the trip and my only prospect was a seriously untidy house with a kitchen full of left overs, dirty dishes and surfaces mostly covered in flour.

And the day really didn’t improve at all! I suspect fait found it appropriate to punish me for a night out with the girls...

Unintentionally doing well, by being treated good

Going to the dentist is something of a struggle for me. It is nothing personal against the dentist (to be honest it is one of those professions I could never have myself, but I am ever so grateful someone else does), but the smell and the sounds combined with the total lack of control just drives me into the state of nervous apprehension.

Never-the-less; it is important to take care of your teeth, so regular visits to the dentist as well as meticulous daily dental care are routines I really try to perform with no evasion. No matter how nerve-racking I may find it.

Maybe it seems a bit over the top, this aversion of mine, but to make a very long story short: The state of my teeth has been severely damaged by problems caused by orthodontics and then (embrace yourself for this one: )choleithiasis (for many years mistaken to be an eating disturbance). Dentists have moaned and groaned over the work they have been presented to whenever I have an appointment. 

Last week I had a terrible toothache. I have postponed pulling a tooth out for two years, only because I have dreaded it, and three months ago I finally hurt so bad I made an appointment for having the tooth surgically removed. There is a four months waiting list…

I called last week to ask how much painkillers I could take, and I was “lucky”: Someone had cancelled their appointment, so I could come in and get the surgery done the next day.

A bit shaky, not very brave and with severe tensions throughout my entire body, I showed up. Confessed to my cowardice and filled in the forms… you know; where you state if you have any allergies, if you smoke, if you are in any way medicated (I was very close to answer that one: “I wish!”) and so forth. Not one single question about how you feel about going to the dentist or if you in any way are likely to freak out. Sometimes people who design the forms really forget about the obvious and really important and useful info…

Anyway, a very kind-looking middle aged woman called me and showed me the way to the x-ray room, consecutively telling me about the procedure… not about the tooth-pulling, mind you, but about the X-ray and how it would be exercised.

I walked through the hallway, looking through every half shut door half ways dreading (or secretly hoping?) to see someone twist and turn, strapped down to the dentist’s chair, while cursing the dentist in muffled words you can’t really understand, but the tone says it all.

None of that: Everybody spoke in low voices and there was no frantic activity trying to limit damages or prevent anyone getting hurt (due to reflexes, of course, not intentionally). The sound of my steps was deadened by the high quality resilient flooring. The thought hit me as I wandered behind the assistant down the hall: “There is a lot of psychology going on here. These guys have come across edgy patients before”.

 

The X-ray went well. You do not get an X-ray film, too big to fit in your mouth, stuck in your mouth, cutting the inside of your cheeks, to bite on anymore. It is merely a stick you bite onto with your front teeth. Piece of cake! Well, not literally, but you get the picture…ehm… understand .

In the dentist’s chair I was wrapped up in green paper operation linen, and before they covered my eyes I was told why; it was purely for the purpose of protecting me from the really bright light. So comforting to be informed, but I was still tense, my body was shivering and I just could not stop tears from running.

Throughout the entire procedure both the dentist and the assistant talked me through what was going on, what they were going to do, what they had just done and they kept patting my cheek, stroking my hair and gently pat my tears away. And they never even mentioned it! I was not embarrassed or felt awkward about it at all!

I never felt any hurt, never any kind of discomfort and I never sensed any impatience or irritation at all. I was just taken care of.

As I was about to leave I told the dentist thank you; “You really did well, thank you, you are both good at what you do and you are a good man”. Maybe it was insanity caused by relief, but I still stand for what I told him.

Especially since he looked at me and told me: “You did really well yourself!”