Bumps and Alcohol

So far it doesn’t seem like any “weather bombs” are hitting us, raining bluebells or otherwise. It’s just as lovely as it was yesterday morning with bright sunshine from clear skies, so hopefully it’s just mostly hype to sell papers or at the very least won’t affect the London-Stockholm flight path. I’m less stressed out about it, focusing on the undisputable FACT (fact, fact, fact – this is my mantra) that nothing Mother Nature can cook up could take a plane down. It might be bumpy, but I have to keep concentrating on how turbulence is as harmless as small bumps in the road when driving and I don’t bloody scream every time that happens, now do I?

10 Dec 2014 pic

Yesterday’s trip to the dentist was a different story – as much as I tried to get my mind on to a calmer path, it was no good. Felt weak and faint even before I left the house, all shaky and jittery. Got there and was called in on time, so at least I didn’t have to sit in the waiting room and freak out for too long. Sure enough, my lovely dentist (with the amazing eyelashes) and her assistant (equally lovely but with regular eyelashes) remembered me, and immediately spoke to me and treated me like a difficult toddler. I started crying the moment my round backside hit the chair, and sobbingly apologised for being such a pathetic mess. No problem, they both assured me, “take your time, no one likes this part”.

Like with the flying, I tried to force my mind to think that it was no big deal. I know the needle doesn’t hurt whatsoever and the drilling that follows doesn’t bother me at all. It’s just the IDEA of a needle going into my gums that makes me want to crawl out of my own skin. I tried with all my might to get over myself but nothing worked, and after ten minutes of crying I was convinced that I’d just have to apologise for wasting their time and leave. One last, desperate attempt.

God, this is ridiculous, let’s go!” I hiccuped and tried to convey conviction and courage I didn’t feel.

Unpleasant in the extreme, despite not feeling the needle at all – it’s just the knowledge it’s there that kills me. After an uncomfortable half minute, it was over. Commence drilling. And along with it a very horrible icy kind of tingle. The anaesthetic hadn’t worked. Another needle, and another bout of squeezing the assistant’s hand to within an inch of its mobility. Bless her. With her un-bruised hand she gently stroked my shoulder. Just like you would a small child, which is the precise level I reduce myself to when I’m scared. Start again, but that icy, shooting kind of tingle was still there and I kept flinching. Third time lucky and a stronger anaesthetic – this one did the job. The drilling went on forever as it was a huge cavity, but as I said, that part doesn’t bother me (not that I enjoy it, but it doesn’t freak me out in the same way).

When it was all over, it was as if all the tension and adrenaline left me all at once and I felt so weak I could barely stand up. After three injections I couldn’t even feel my nose, and once I’d walked home on slightly trembly legs I took a good look in the mirror, and now I know what I’ll look like if I ever suffer a stroke. I stood there for a good minute and couldn’t stop laughing – laughing at how only half my face was laughing, it was the creepiest thing ever. But thank God that part is now behind me. I do need another filling, but not urgently and it’s only a small one so I’m going to leave until the New Year and deal with it then. For now, I can enjoy being able to chew on both sides again, which I haven’t been able to since that freakin’ tooth broke off back in March.

B’s in stupid Birmingham today, but at least he’s back this evening – I can’t stand it when he’s away, it sucks – and tomorrow morning we’re flying out to Sweden for a long weekend. Just a few bits to sort out today, like returning B’s winter boots and get a different pair (fussy thing) and getting a few bits for the weekend. Let’s just hope that “weather bomb” doesn’t materialise around these parts….. Perhaps I’ll write those diary entries for the book once the no-smoking sign comes off – getting drunk at that time in the morning seems a little extreme. Extreme but not altogether improbable. We shall see – alcohol or creativity will get me through it. Maybe both?


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