Manic Monday

I'm glad that the day is almost over. Sometimes we all have days like that, I suppose.

It started with, once the morning chores were done and today's dose of Medication was injected, a noon-time appointment at the dentist. Oy. I am on a "short rotation" for teeth cleaning. That means that I am in his office every three months for a cleaning and exam whether I like it or not. And like it I do not.

Unfortunately, with all the years of disease and medications and throwing up, my teeth have been badly affected and need to be watched closely. To this day, I have only lost one wisdom tooth although to maintain that record of dental health, I've had to endure many a root canal and it's less insideous cousin, crowning. In fact, all four of my front teeth are "fake" as well as the better part of my molars. But I have had an on-again-off-again pain in the upper right corner of my mouth since the beginning of April, and the dentist took a look today.

"Pull all of her remaining wisdom teeth!" was the edict.

"WHAT?!?!" Or should I say, "SMMMMMMMPH!" because the technician had her instruments in my mouth when this went down. I spat them out.

"What do you mean pull ALL of my wisdom teet? People have been telling me that for I don't know how many years and I don't think they really need to go, do they? If you pull them, I will have to get thicker glasses to compensate for the drop in IQ." (Everyone knows that people who wear glasses have an increase in IQ of 15 points.)

"They're not doing anything for you." he said, and left the room.

Well, I can tell you that I have not scheduled an appointment to have them taken out. I will give you that the one on the upper right is problematic and I will probably have to aquiese on it when it hurts a little worse, but the rest? They're mine, I tell you. Mine!

From the Dentist, I made a brief stop at Home Depot where I needed to buy a new nut to replace the one that fell off of a screw on my spinning wheel. With my ongoing drug (chemo) therapy, I am not thinking cohesively enough to make jewelry, but I think I can spin yarn. If my wheel was operational. So I'm going to try it later this evening and see how it goes.

From Home Depot, it was on to Bally's Fitness where an appointment to get a free 2 week pass from "Art" had been scheduled. Oy. Oy. OY!

Now I don't know if all Bally's are like this one or not, and in fact I suspect that they are not. But I arrived to find that Art had left for the day, but had left Juan behind to field his appointments. Juan was very insecure about me, and for good reason. He was trying to sell me a health club with antiquated and broken equipment, mildewed walls, and a college-age clientele. There were barely any classes available, and those that were weren't impressive.

It thought it would be prudent to sit with him anyway after the tour. If I was going to get a pass, would it be good at only this Bally's location or could I use it at others too? "No, only here. And by the way, as soon as I put your name in the system, you will not be able to get a pass at any other Bally's location for six months."

Well, I would like to see and try out the one that is closer to home too and I have a feeling in better shape. I took a pass on the pass.

Home to walk the dogs, then attend Richard Simmons weekly chat in his clubhouse. If things continue down the path that they are on right now, I will not be a member any more next week. I sat quietly during the chat, thinking of cracks that I could make, but sitting still. After it was over and Richard had left, I thanked all the people in the room for having been there, telling them that it had been an honor to have spent time in the forum with them. And then it happened. I had the melt down that has been coming on for the past five weeks.

I am eternally grateful to Iris and Joy who understood what I was trying to say, even as I took them out of left field. I apologize to the rest of the people in that room who I'm guessing had no idea that feelings and issues could run so deep in one who was seemingly riding the crest as one of Richard's poster girls.

And Richard? He was not there. I suppose I owe him an apology for opening my mouth up 'in his home,' but not as big an apology as I think I am owed.

I've had a good cry now. I'm probably ready to tackle the evening.