by K-K
It all began with a throbbing toothache in the middle of the night. I haven't had one of those in years so had almost forgotten how debilitating it is. I golfed through the pain on Sunday and my dentist called in a prescription for an antibiotic. I had high hopes that it would be taken care of in short order.
By Monday morning it had gotten worse so the bad news from the dentist chair “oh, you need a root canal” shouldn't have surprised me. He was all booked up but after 10 minutes of frantic calling around he got me in to a specialist in Grand Rapids. The catch was that I had to be there in 45 minutes. That meant jumping in my car and heading over there immediately. Normally that would not have bothered me but this day I had no GPS (on the blink) and adding to that, I had an appointment in downtown Grand Rapids for my 6 month exam with my Gynecological Oncologist.
Naturally I did not have his phone number AND I had not taken a shower that morning because I slept in due to the painful sleepless tooth throbbing night that I had. I called 411 on my cell phone and they had no listing for my doctor. In the whiniest voice I could muster I told her that he was a specialist at the Lacks Cancer Center and this very sympathetic operator said “ok honey, don't worry, I just got back to work from a hysterectomy and I feel your pain" (literally). Little did she know that my “pain” was at the opposite end of my body, but I wasn't about to go into details. She connected me and I left a message that I would have to reschedule.
I arrived for my root canal only 5 minutes late but it was quite evident that they were not going to let me get off easy. After making sure that I had insurance (through going into the computer to dig out my history) they sent me back to “the chair.” At this point I didn't care if they amputated my head so I patiently waited for the nitrous to calm me down. After looking at the x-ray and asking me what I had bitten into to cause this big abscess (like eating lettuce and hamburgers would cause problems) he pulled out “the syringe.” When I asked for some “gas” he said he didn't have any (yeah, right) and proceeded to plunge the needle into my infected gums like a Samurai Warrior.
I nearly jumped out of my skin. With tears rolling down my cheeks and legs curled up like onion rings he stated that he needed to jab the roof of my mouth. “This will sting for a second or two” he said and I proceeded to fold up again...this time more like a fetus. He and his assistant were discussing how to rearrange lunch hour during this entire time. They seemed put out when I asked for a tissue but handed it to me as they left the room stating “we'll be back in 5 minutes to finish up.”
OK, I admit that my gentle Jim dentist has historically babied me through the process but geeeeeez...have a little sympathy, would ya? Before I knew it they were back to finish me off, I mean finish me up...I think. The numbness had hardly set in...in fact I could still feel the pain but was grateful that it had subsided from throbbing to something less and buckled down for the ride.
The deed was done and I was out of there after a total of less than 30 minutes. My share of the entire ordeal was a mere $95.00 (10 %) which means this guy charges about $2,000 an hour. It's a racket but who am I to complain? After all, he gave me 3 Ibuprofens at no charge AND I still had time to get to my other doctor. The specialist had returned my call in between the needles (much to the chagrin of the dentist)and I tried to apologize for the interruption but once I stated that I had a “specialist” on the other line he sat back and stated I had plenty of time to get there.
Herein lies the part 2 of my problem: How can I possibly get a shower in before my gynecological exam? Miraculously, I made it downtown with 10 minutes to spare. I opened my trunk and “walah” there was a brand new golf towel still in the cellophane just waiting for a new purpose. I immediately scrambled to the bathroom and proceeded to do a 't&a' in very short order. The fact that I had not shaved my legs in a while was of little concern to me now.
When Dr. B. and his intern came in and pulled up a chair asking “well, how have the last 6 months been?” I proceeded to tell him about the fact that I had accomplished quite a bit in the last few months. I got my yearly mammogram (which included a call back ultra-sound ... just one more alarm that turned out to be nothing).
I finally carried through with my colonoscopy which literally wiped me out (according to nephew John who had to practically break into my house during prep night to get my attention ... after dog barking and him yelling within 2 feet after breaking and entering he thought I was dead but then he saw me breathe so he left with whatever it is he needed).
That too produced just a small polyp of little concern (apparently, since I haven't heard otherwise). I held up my gauze bandaged middle finger that is suffering the effects of bleach water (from my ice cream parlor dish washing job) complicated by a microwave burn (at home) and the fact that I kept the damn thing wrapped up in a Band-Aid and Neosporin for too long, depriving it of much needed oxygen so the skin was falling off.
He gave me a salve that his cancer patients use when radiation burns their skin and says “if this doesn't work I don't know what will.” To say that your middle finger on your predominant hand has great significance in your life would be an understatement. There is literally nothing that this finger is not a great part of in daily living including wiping your ass and opening, closing, carrying and tying just about everything.
With all emergencies and appointments taken care of I was on my way. Now I would go to Sears and see if I could find someone to fix my GPS. After sending me all through the store from one station to the next I finally got to the right place...sort of. “Oh yea, you need to take that right over there...that's where they repair things...oh oh...they closed about 10 minutes ago.”
No big deal, I'll just shop around with the money that I don't have. I decided to look at bathing suits and sports bras...THE two most depressing things you can ever shop for! Basically I was looking for some swim shorts to wear over my one piece suit so that not so much of my cellulite would be apparent. Do you think I could find one that fit waist and butt? No way.
Sports bras are the only type of brassiere for me not because I am so active and actually need to corral the girls...but because there are no real “cups” and they don't come in regular sizes...they don't make a 42 triple A bra that I can find.
To top the day off I got a call reminding me of a meeting that I was supposed to be at by 7PM. It was now 6:40 and I was just sitting in the Mall parking lot scratching my legs which had broken out in a terrible rash from the overload of antibiotics that I took for the throbbing tooth thinking it would wipe out the infection hence getting me out of the root canal.
All that being said about that particular day, I will embark on “now time.” I woke up this morning to an earless dead bunny in my living room. Yes, one of my pets (I presume my cat) chewed the ears off this innocent bunny and left it as a gift to me to prove his virility. At the ripe old age of 16 he is still very capable of being “the man of the house.” I scooped it up with a dustpan and put it in a box that I found in the closet (you never know what you'll need those dozen boxes for!) and it is sitting outside waiting for a final resting place. About an hour later I found one of the ears but am still searching for the other one. Chances are it will be “coughed up” by Deedles before the end of the day. One can only hope!
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3 comments:
I read this last night. And I'm still in shock over the last paragraph. Oh. My. God.
I can hardly type right now because the tears of laughter are streaming down my face - I laughed by ass off reading about KK's day! I think it needs to be submitted to a magazine or something because every woman in the world can empathize. KK - what were thinking? Trying on swimsuits and bras at the same time?! That's a suicide waiting to happen! Years ago I read an Erma Bombeck column in the Free Press about trying on swimsuits and the entire health care unit at Riverside came running down to the Pharmacy to see what I was "howling" about :-) Keep posting KK - it brightens our days and hopefully makes you feel better to "get it out" :-))))) By the way - are you using your "new" golf towel at Shadow Ridge?!!
an inspirational story if I've ever heard one!
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