There are days and not a few, when Word Press tries my considerable bank of patience.
Perhaps the bank is less considerable these days.
God knows I’ve had to make withdrawals to get this far.
No doubt it’s just me making exceptional demands.
It’s why I don’t attempt to change my format which I realise must seem boringly unimaginative.
It’s not that I don’t want to experiment, but it would end in tears.
Not altogether a WP thing, I have to point out.
There’s also the My Photo element.
And the Carolyn Smith factor.
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Snow gone, evening light emphasizes colour contrast.
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A low flying gaggle passed over on their way to roost.
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After yesterday’s mercifully brief session at the dentist, I’m thinking that any future teeth with either have to be ignored or simply removed.
Not because dental procedures are themselves so terrible. They aren’t in this day and age. As a child they were the stuff of nightmares but since that long ago time I have had all the regular sampling of root canals, extractions, caps and bridges. Not a favourite way to spend time but also not a big deal.
So what went wrong yesterday?
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A minor, pain-free repair.
One of the things that may happen as you age is that your jaw can change shape. Additionally you may have arthritis in the jaw.
In any event, it is not so easy for me now-a-days to “open wide” and remain that way for a length of time.
Still, I have always managed and this was not the problem.
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The thing is, I have always had a very strong gag reflex.
In my remote school days, a nun decided to “paint” my sore throat and I ended up smacking her one. I had absolutely no control over my action and I was as surprised as she was.
Lately I’ve been having throat “issues”, not related to Covid or colds. I had hoped it could be resolved by removal of the tonsils but no such luck. Anyway, that was the additional factor.
So I lay there as you do at the dentists and before long I had the overwhelming feeling that I was going to choke or suffocate.
Acknowledging this thought, I had a word with Brain:
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“We have to endure this and there will be no choking or suffocating so give me something else to think about!”
“Breathe, in, out, in, out…”
A great technique, but I also have breathing issues, which result in something called air hunger. I was breathing fine through my nose, but I didn’t want to start thinking about that too much.
“Then count: one, two, one, two…”
Brain kept going back to: “Choking! Suffocating!”
It resents being told what to think.
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So I kept telling myself: “Mind over matter! “
Then my mouth was irrigated and as the water was hoovered up, the instrument touched the back of my throat.
It was only for a split second and I was able to control the gag and not make a complete fool of myself.
Then it was over. It had taken 20 minutes all told.
As I got out of the chair and walked to reception I realised I was shaking and walking like a drunk which I did my best to conceal.
This, I suppose, is what is called a panic attack though I think the term is inappropriate. A state of elevated anxiety does not necessarily mean you are in a panic. Panic infers that your mind in overwhelmed (I think?)
My mind was totally not panicked. I knew there was no actual cause for alarm, that the feeling was something physical and that the signals were false. Extreme discomfort, not panic.
Walking back to the car I shook my arms, remembering that shaking is how animals rid themselves of trauma. And it did the trick.
It isn’t something I wish to repeat but it was an interesting experience.
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After that jolly event, we returned to a delayed lunch.
The cats were all snoring their heads off, so for once we avoided getting demerits from Dee Dee.
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We were in the kitchen and I was about to tell Grant that I had asked the dentist if she had seen any groundhogs yet as ours had still not made an appearance, but the moment I said “groundhog”, I saw movement under the hedge…..
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“You called?”
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So then….
Master Sparrow sat in the bush watching and welcoming back the furry sleepy-head:
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“I hope you appreciate that I negotiated carrots for your re-awakening? But you were expected two days ago.”
“Oh. I know. I overslept.”
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“Truth is, I woke up two weeks ago but I couldn’t get out of my front door, so I thought it must still be January and I went back to bed.”
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“Yes, it was terrible. Our bush nearly went over. You have no idea what us above-grounders have to endure.”
“And by the way, that woman said to tell you to go easy on the carrots. Times are tough, you know!
Groundhog decided to ease back in gently.
It went along to say hi to the sparrows in the driveway and sat there enjoying the afternoon sun.
Wow lots to digest! reading your blog today. I’m going to change the subject and ask if you have ever been to a concert given by 6th, 7th, and 8th graders??
No never!
It’s like meeting an old friend again, seeing a groundhog!
Mr. Groundhog is adorable!
So sweet to watch him eat the carrots……
Thank you for sharing. ❤️
WP and I also have an on and off relationship (which sometimes makes me say words I wouldn’t normally say) … but I’d rather deal with WP before I go to the dentist! Just to read about your experience, made me shaking my arms (I’ll remember that)! Carolyn, that photo with the purple/blue/orange colours is incredibly beautiful (it’s your photo just below your sentence: “It resents being told what to think.”) … it made me go back 2/3 times to look at it again! And yippee, so nice to see the groundhog again – it must be lovely to be outside in the sun again!
Good to see that sleepy Groundhog. Hunger must have finally roused him.
Dental work was so horrible when I was a child, (rubber gas masks, rubber mouth-bungs, foot-pedal-operated drills) that even though I know it is almost painless these days, trips to the dentist still make me (and my wife) incredibly anxious.
Best wishes, Pete.
That foot pedal drill was ghastly!
Oh how much I understand the dental trauma. I can breathe perfectly well through my nose until the dentisit puts her fingers in my mouth and then, quite suddenly, all oxygen intake shuts down altogether. At times it is overwhelming and terrrifying. I rationalise and practice the in-out-in-out through the nose, but somehow all it does is make me more conscious of the fact that I am about to die… After about five minutes the jaw-agony kicks in and I have to wave the dentist away whilst I try to talk myself into behaving like an adult. My lovely dentist now spends half of each check-up holding my hand!
Knowing it’s mind over matter doesn’t help, does it?! In future I’ll say “just yank it out” and avoid all that stuffing of cotton wool in your gob!