Felled by a pair of root canals, a week apart, a girl can get a little grumpy. The canals came as an early celebration of Fall from our old pal, radiation.
The second one was a surprise after much poking, prodding and pain. A hair appointment had to be canceled. Hair Goddess gasped, “Oh my gosh, are you okay?” Taking to the couch ate up a good portion of a couple of days, adding to the general malaise and unsociability.
For the record, yes, my mouth still aches and agitation resides just below the surface.
“Radiation does such damage to teeth,” notes the dentist. Can’t say I wasn’t warned years ago during cancer’s year-long visit. Teeth are on the list of stuff they tell y0u after, the endless menu of, “Oh by the way this might happen.” When it does, you recall the conversation and get pissed off all over again.
“I feel a crusade, perhaps a rant, coming on,” I tell Middle Chicken after she inquires, “How does your mouth feel?”
She allows a bit of rambled outrage, a mix of anger and blathering about big pharma before she quashes the tirade.
“Mom, you’re alive.” Pfft. Everyone needs a logical, lawyer child. Not just to answer endless questions about how the legal and political system work, but to clarify all the questions surrounding various unsolved murders and such.
Oh, and to cut to the chase, as in remember what’s important. I was actually ranting about root canals with GrandBear Six in my lap, smiling up at me with none of her own.
When the chickens lived at home, we had a rule. You can have the day. Somethings gone wrong? Take the day to rail, complain, cry, and curse the world. Get it out and be done with it. After a day problems do nothing but eat us up from the inside. Feel the angst and then figure a fix. We can do that part together.
So for my one day, I cursed cancer, again. Complained about the American dental insurance system-that one’s still floating around inside my head. Chastised myself for walking around with a headache for a month not realizing it was tooth related. And missed two Mondays of Mahjong. Cancer may have finally crossed the line.
Turns out, people feel better after a root canal, or two. Generally, they have to find something else to rant about. Perhaps that people who are neither children nor nurses are still wearing crocs?
As for me, I have a follow up with the dentist this morning. It feels like a pearl day, non? No doubt, I’ll need something to grasp when handed the bill.
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