I’ve spent a whole lot of time feeling disconnected of late.
I think the oral surgery was far more than I expected. Usually I gauge the seriousness of a procedure by how long severe pain lasts, but this time I’ve been achy and tired for almost two weeks after the event. Dave reassures me by very kindly reminding me that I “had a lot of work done”.
And I can’t rule out the Coronavirus as a contributor to my current state of mind (or lack thereof). I’ve done my shopping and Dave is working from home. Our governor has taken actions designed to slow the spread of the disease. It is necessary, practical, and I’m glad that sensible, proactive steps have been taken. (I admit it plays into my hypochondriac tendencies. So far I’ve been convinced I’ve had the virus, IBS, and possibly the plague. Henny Penny has nothing on me.). I hope to continue to support our small businesses. We can still get take out from our favorite pub, and who knows – maybe even our neighborhood coffee shop. Well, we’ll play that one by ear.
One bright moment I almost forgot about in the past couple of days:
I decided last week, (pre closings), I needed to get out of the house. I signed up for a two and a half hour watercolor class. I’ve had some past experience and training with watercolors but it has been years since I’ve painted. I thought a couple of hours out and refresher class should lift my spirits.
My end result:
Not only did I enjoy my time out, I had forgotten how much I enjoyed watercolors.
Sitting here today, I must admit I feel almost like I’ve woken up. I think I’ll spend my time working on my clay, or paints, and feeling lucky to have my family.
Thank you for reading.
I’ve come to understand that each and everyone of us has that ‘thing’ (or things). That ‘thing’ which is unique to each person: a nagging ailment/phobia/disorder – a chronic condition/burden/’thing’ that challenges us and accompanies (haunts) us throughout life. Where do these ‘things’ come from? Genetics? Predispositions? Misspent youth? A past life determination? Prelife choice? I kinda like that last option. During a ‘fit of fancy’, (as my Grandmother would have called it), I visualize waiting in line. A voice cries out “next!”. My turn. “Now”, says the disembodied voice, “for this upcoming lifetime pick three burdens from column A, four challenges from column B and two blessing from column C.” Looks like I choose periodontal disease.
Hummph. A frustratingly seemingly unending ‘thingy’. Once settled in, periodontal disease has no intention of leaving its dark cozy corners. I have regular cleanings/check ups with my periodontist and also my regular dentist. I get excited when the newest model of electric toothbrush hits the shelf. I have a stash of proxy brushes in the perfect width. I make a special trip to CVS for my preferred dental tape. I can’t remember all the surgeries and treatments I have had. I have planned nutritious soft food menus for post treatments to insure rapid recovery. In short, I have fought the good fight. In December, my periodontist said I needed more surgery. A gingival graft to rebuild my gum line.
After hearing that, (“it is not an emergency – no need to schedule right now”), I went home and sulked. That news made me – well – mad. I spend so much time, effort, and money and here I go again. Right? I ranted a bit. Sputtered. And then gave up. I had the surgery on Tuesday. It was a painful one. But I have decent pain killers. I have to admit, I’m still a bit, (or a lot), sulky. Oh I think I’ll heal fine, I’ll just be cranky about it. I know I need to come to a different point of view but not just yet. Right now I’m going to just eat soft foods and watch movies. But I’ve been thinking… donuts are soft, (must be gluten free for me. I think that was a column B option), and hey – a nice single malt scotch whiskey would lift my spirits – and cut down on my need for the pain killers. Now that’s a plan!
Thanks for stopping and reading!