I haven’t been looking forward to this week.
Midweek I’m scheduled to go to The Big City (the real one; not the nearby Walmart-bearing berg I laughingly call the big city) for a consultation with a surgeon, a specialist at a formidable teaching hospital. I dread both the doctor encounter and the drive, which is three times longer than any I’ve taken in Old Blue. And Blue is … old. And kind of creaky.
Heck, while I’m at it, I might as well dread freeways, traffic jams, and ridiculously expensive Big City parking — all of which I worked hard to leave behind me long ago.
To unwind from the med-city stresses, I’ve set this up as a two-day trip with an overnight stay in a small artsy town and another session in a float tank for the following day. Even that (which I’m looking forward to) has me a tad nervous. On a wild-n-crazy whim I scheduled two floats back-to-back. Up to 3.5 hours in the tank — and that’s a rather long, scary time for a tank n00b, even though I expect it’s also just what I’ll need to wind down from the day at the doc’s.
So I’m not exactly relaxed as I start into this week.
Just to put the icky, unhealthy maraschino cherry on top of the medical cake, one of my molars suddenly decided to go all sensitive on me last week. And I don’t yet know if this is “sensitive” as in “don’t worry; antibiotics will take care of it,” sensitive as in “oh crap, I’m going to be stuck with a persnickity tooth for the rest of my life,” or sensitive as in $1,500 in dental work ahead. (So far so good on the antibiotics, but not quite conclusive yet.)
Oh yeah, and after a period of pleasant-ish weather, we’re back in “unsettled.” Been watching the ever-shifting forecast for the big travel day and at one point the prediction just said “ice pellets.” What the hell kind of weather forecast is that? Not snow, not rain, not freezing rain, not sleet. Ice pellets. Whatever else they may be they don’t sound fun to drive in. Or on. But currently the weatherperson’s back to promising normal hellacious quantities of rain. I can live with that.
Naturally it’s supposed to be nearly 60 degrees and sunny next week.
Neither my prima donna molar nor those mysterious ice pellets from the sky have improved my attitude toward the upcoming week. But it being a waste of time to fret about it all, today I tried to get a fair bit of work done. And I did and that felt good. Then this afternoon I sat down in the front entry alcove, which has a big window and a comfy bentwood rocker. I settled in with a cup of sweet tea on the table next to me and a large dog uneasily but gamely on my lap. And it began to snow. A beautiful soft snow with giant flakes that soon began sticking to the grass and heaping up on the fence and the evergreen branches across my narrow road.
And peace settled into the valley as Ava and I watched the snowfall from our place of comfort and satisfaction.
Safe trip Claire, and the best of luck with the doctor visit.
Good luck with the med trip. Where I live on Cape Cod, people don’t want to “cross the bridge” for treatment in the Big City so sometimes cut corners. I have a chronic illness but also currently need a new crown and tomorrow will see an optometrist to check out sudden troubling visual symptoms. The two memes I always think of at these times are the apocryphal ” growing old ain’t for sissies” attributed to Betty Grable and “It’s always something” by Gilda Radner who, of course, died of something.
No cool snow here to get distracted with.
Not to reopen closed posts ( title appeared under here), I might suggest http://www.Jewscanshoot.com, with their formidable logo of ” Nothing says never again like an armed Jew.” They are based in LA, seem to have occasional range meet ups, will try to attend when I visit out there. Did buy a mug…
Sorry to hear about all the unsettled, Claire. Best wishes to it all washing out with a minimum of fuss. And to remembering, when the need arises, that your ability to focus on that moment of peace, is your secret ace in the hole. 🙂
Oil of clove (drug store or health food store) might help the tooth, cloves in tea, or rubbing a whole clove at the tooth site.
Maybe you should have scheduled one float tank *before* the doctor’s visit. Good luck with the visit.
Good luck with the drive and with the doctors. I wish I could say not to worry by giving you my favorite mantra when someone is haunted by a medical question “don’t borrow trouble,” but it sounds like trouble has found you.
My wife’s favorite mantra, when confronted with a serious medical issue, is “work the problem.” She takes the next logical step until the situation is resolved. It sounds like you’re doing that already. Her mantra keeps her from running around with her hair on fire.
I wish you well.
I’ll be thinking of you especially all week. 🙂
I’m glad you’re taking care of things; I also think you’re handling it well. Certainly, that’s all any of us can do. I’m sure the time in the artsy town will be a wonderful welcome respite. At the risk of sounding pessimistic, I’m not sure what you can expect this time from the float tank. When you are able to ignore physical stimuli, you will be dealing with your unconscious, and there’s a lot really banging around in there right now. My suspicion is that under your present circumstances, watching the snow with Ava likely is a much more effective way to relax. I post this with some sense of guilt, as there is no way to know for sure what your experience will be, and foreboding thoughts may negatively influence that experience. But if I didn’t post anything, I’d feel guilty, too (I imagine you know how that goes). Though I realize I’m repeating myself, I’m still very glad you’re taking care of YOU.
Hopin’ the week goes well, Claire.
Thanks for the good vibes, my friends.
Pat, I appreciate the reminder about oil of cloves; I’d forgotten all about that. And Ron, “work the problem” is good. Steve, you have my sympathies for having to live with a chronic problem and my total understanding dreading the need to cross the bridge for anything (let alone some odious purpose).
Shel, you may be right about the timing on the tank. However I scheduled it less for relaxation and more for contemplation of various next steps, which I’ll be able to do better after hearing what the surgeon has to say. You don’t have to worry about planting any foreboding thoughts; I’m ridiculously good at planting those myself. But well … “work the problem, work the problem, work the problem.”
And whatever else happens, next week is supposed to be sunny and warm and I’ll be able to enjoy that without any doctor visit in the way or any “ice pellets” to traverse on any travels to any hated Big Cities.
Get well my friend, there is something that needs replacing on me but I still can get my eight miles in when needed until the pain becomes too great, everyday I tell myself that as long as I feel pain I am still alive and therefore everyday I am reminded of both.
Up north we have wind, snow, sleet, ice & all the bad stuff right now so be safe in your travels.
Don’t forget peppermint oil for toothache. Works better than anything a dentist has ever given me.
Best wishes on your journey! I haven’t been more than 10 miles from home in years (Don’t trust my truck) so I know the feeling.
My positive thoughts will be with you this week Claire!
Peppermint oil. I can see I’m going to have to start keeping a few new items on hand. Thanks, Tahn. And for the positive thoughts, too.
It feels weird in a way — very unmodern — to be so homebound. Yet other than pilgrimages, tribal migrations, following game and such, I’ll bet in the past a lot of people rarely ventured far from their home territory. When they did it was a big deal.
Doctor visits. . I think we’re about the same age. That’s about when crap starts to happen.
Liquid Advil squeezed-out of a liquid-gel directly on the tooth works well.
Ambesol liquid/gel will deaden tooth pain for an extended time also, but it is even more artificial in nature.
Unfortunately, all the oils and gels in the world are only temporary, even if they “work.” Worse, they may mask the symptoms that indicate a more serious problem. A painful tooth that doesn’t get better on it’s own in a day or two needs to be evaluated by a dentist. The big problem with any actual infection of the jaw under a bad tooth is the possibility of infection spreading, especially the risk of systemic (blood poisoning) infection. I wouldn’t mess with it myself.
Claire, if it turns out you do need surgery, I would get a copy of Hypnosis For Coping Before And After Surgery. The old 1997 version was a cassette by New Harbinger Publications, probably on EBay, but hopefully they upgraded to CD. Good research for this, part of my former profession, good for speeding healing and pain reduction. I use a personal recording for controlling my pain that I saw an old colleague in session to make for me. It works well, I hate to come out of the trance state. Hypnosis is a cheap, well documented, underutilized treatment in this area.
If you can’t find this or similar, let me know and I’ll send you my 1997 cassette.
Had tooth trouble for quite a while – finally took care of it last year and MUCH better. I couldn’t chew on my left side for 4 YEARS. It wasn’t fun, but I survived ( until I didn’t but that’s another story ).
Yowch. Four YEARS, Jolly? That either took a lot of fortitude or a powerful avoidance of dentists!
Steve — Thank you for the information and the offer. I did find that for sale online. I don’t have anything that plays cassettes, but looking around, I see quite a lot of information on the subject of hypnosis and surgery — both for pre- and post-surgical coping and as a replacement for anesthesia (ack!).
I’m actually used self-hypnosis a bit. I learned it in my 20s in a Self-Hypnosis for Writers workshop but never practiced it a lot until recently. Also in my 20s I had a friend who was very suggestible and I put him under hypnosis quite a few times.
Damn, when it rains it pours. Good luck Claire, you’re in my thoughts and I’m pulling for you.
Thanks, MJR. All this is really more of a nuisance than a Big Deal. And as the day gets closer I find myself a little more relaxed. All mentions of snow, ice, or even freezing have disappeared from the forecast, leaving only an unusually heavy rainstorm. But what Northwesterner was ever deterred by that?
BTW, two people asked privately why I don’t just take a bus or a train. I agree that would be a blessing! But I suspect most off-the-beaten-path Americans know the answer: there are no buses or trains. At least not any that come near me or run on feasible schedules.
I checked into those options immediately when I knew I’d be making this trip. To catch a bus I’d have to drive 1/3 of the way to my destination. To catch a train I’d have to drive 1/2-way to my destination. Then the schedules would be impossible. I’d have to stay overnight in the Big City ($$$ and unpleasant), then come back by the same route, skipping the small town and the float tank. Totally unworkable. But boy, would I have liked to take some transport other than Old Blue.
Honestly, Claire, this seems like a pretty big fuss for a simple Boob Job and Brazilian Butt Lift. sheesh. 🙂
Praying for good things….
Drat, Eric. You have uncovered my secret. I have SO wanted to have a butt like one of the Kardashians. 😉
AG — Every little bit helps, thank you.
In the future look at the [Sound Transit commuter routes](http://www.soundtransit.org/Schedules/ST-Express-Bus), you can travel in from Gig Harbor or Olympia fairly easily.
The UW Dental School has an urgent care clinic with inexpensive prices if you need it.
But you can’t travel into any big city from where I live, R. Not one on this planet. If you had days to travel and weren’t concerned with timing, you could hitchhike or bum a ride to get out to a train depot or Greyhound stop and go from there. But when you’re talking places like Gig Harbor or Olympia, you’re already in civilization