January 29, 2010
January 28, 2010
So you can imagine how a root canal would sit with me, huh? Never, ever had work (beyond cleaning) done on my teeth, and I thought I was home free, at my age. But no. Last September, I called my cards too quickly and learned what an endodontist is. The day of the surgery, I went for the full sedation package, just short of knocking me totally out and staying overnight in the hospital, but I was still a nervous wreck and hated every minute of the entire day.
And today, I had the privilege of getting a redo on my root canal from last fall. I won't
But guess what? I didn't freak out beforehand, like I did the first time, when I was shaking like a scared puppy, even though I was sedated enough that I couldn't move out of my chair, or remember my own name. I didn't get all chatty on the way there, like I do when I am insanely nervous about something. And, when I got home, I didn't get nauseous merely from the thought of what had just happened in my mouth.
Today, I easily conversed with My Endo (we're tight now), Dr. Susan, about why teens shouldn't have cell phones, right before she disappeared into my mouth and left - wait for this - stitches in my gums. I had taken a sedative (duh! I'm not stupid!) but wasn't all hooked up to an IV like last time, my will sitting on the table next to me, waiting for my wobbly, dying signature, just in case. And not once did I gag or shudder, before, during, or after the fact. I even looked at the stitches in the mirror when I got home. You have no idea how not me that is.
You know what I'm going to say, don't you?
Magic potion's working, methinks.
January 27, 2010
MC2, my naturopath, (she has the same initials as my life coach; is that a sign?) also taught me an exercise that is supposed to bring the right and left sides of my brain into harmony. Apparently, when an emotionally upsetting moment is occuring, the brain is all kinds of separated and out of sync. So, I'm supposed to do this exercise whenever I'm feeling overwhelmed, or can't make a decision, or am stressing over something. So, last night, before I went to bed, I thought I' do this. I wondered if maybe it would help me sleep better. I crawled into bed and after about 10 minutes, I started to stress out that it might not work. That, if it didn't, I would be stuck, today, having gotten an awful night's sleep. So I got up and took two Tylenol PMs anyway. So much for patience. I think there's some herb in my blue bottle for that, so I'll have to wait for it to kick in.
I'm feeling good about the whole thing, though. I thought it was pretty funny when I was telling John about it at dinner; I could tell he was trying not to laugh when I told him about my arm answering the wall questions. He's an even bigger skeptic than I, but at least he's supportive. He doesn't like living with my craziness any more than I do, I'm sure.
Completely off the subject, I read a great post today. For all my teacher friends and for anyone who has ever sent an utterly insignificant prayer up to the big guy, go read A Teacher's Prayer over at Joanne's blog. It made me laugh; if I were God, I would totally grant this one.
January 26, 2010
January 25, 2010
When I first started writing this blog, it was with the intention of sharing some of the trials and tribulations of raising a teenager on the verge, and the coping strategies I used to do it. I suppose I was mostly looking for an outlet, and a reason to write every day, since I wasn't working on a novel or anything concrete enough to warrant sitting here for hours on end. I guess I was hoping I might get some feedback or some brilliant ideas that would solve all my problems. Most of all, I just wanted the secret code to a peaceful and harmonious family.
January 23, 2010
January 12, 2010
January 11, 2010
I think I've mentioned that I'm sort of obsessed with cleaning my house. I mean, not in a can't-do-anything-else way, but probably more than normal people. I just like things in order. Tidy. Jen thinks this is a control thing - since I have little control over my kid, at least I can do this. She's probably right. Wish I could be obsessively controlling about my diet and exercise instead. But I digress.
Being this way doesn't come free. There's a price to neatness, and yesterday, I had to pay the piper. You know all that crap you don't exactly know what to do with, but feel like you can't throw out? Most of us put it in a pile. Maybe it's a neat pile, in a basket, or a drawer. Or maybe it's lots of piles, that multiply, all over the guest bedroom or the formal dining room table. And, eventually, we must attack the pile(s) and make tough decisions, in order to clear up some space. For most people, this might happen once a year, or even more frequently.