Early morning dental appointment, then back home for writing. That was the plan, anyway. What could go wrong, right?!
What is it about the dentist that sends so many of us round the bend, so to speak?
I’ve birthed three children, endured numerous injuries, surgeries, and painful procedures, over the years. One would think that I’d become a powerful weapon of war, with my pain tolerance being put to the test, on so many occasions.
Well, apparently not!
I’ve had this appointment for weeks, and there isn’t any easy way around a cavity. It had to be filled. While I wasn’t looking forward to the procedure, I certainly wasn’t that stressed about it, at least that was what I originally thought. I guess I was wrong.
I get up early, enjoy a cup of my peppermint tea, and throw myself together, which only takes like five minutes. I actually headed off to the dentist early, before I could change my mind, lol. Arriving safely, I sat quietly waiting for my name to be called.
Once I’d been brought to the dentist chair, I settled in and waited. I’ll admit that my stress was rising, with all the sounds and smells that accompany a medical procedure. After nearly fifteen minutes of brooding in my chair, they arrived to give me the shot that would numb my face for the next six hours.
Needless to say, the needle part hurt. While it was painful, I didn’t think it was the end of the world, or anything. As tough as those few moments were, I endured. The dentist says, “Ok, that parts all over”, and they immediately put my chair in the upright position. That was a horrible idea, and I immediately knew I was going to pass out! I now remember saying I didn’t feel good, and could they put the chair back down, but that’s the last thing I can recall.
Suddenly, I was facing two strangers in mask that were shaking me, and asking if I could breath. I had no idea where I was for nearly two minutes, while a medical team had been hooking me up to blood pressure machines, and oxygen. They said I had some sort of seizure, or something.
Never fear, though, as I was able to recover enough to get the filling done on that tooth. I’m not going to go back and do that again, are you kidding me?!
My guess is that I was most likely holding my breath, out of stress. From there, I must have had a full on anxiety attack that shut everything down, briefly. My panic attacks normally don’t come on that fast, and without any warning. I didn’t even have time to employ any form of calming exercise. It didn’t help that they sat my chair upright, much faster than they probably should have done.
So, I’d like to say long story short, here, but that obviously wasn’t a short story, at all. And, while I’m back home with a fully filled tooth, I still don’t feel right. It’s noon and my mouth is still partially numb. I didn’t get much of any writing done, aside from telling my tragic tale of toothy woe. To any who stayed long enough to read through, til the end, I thank you.
I would be ever so grateful for virtual hugs, cookies, and comments like “that’s awful”, “you poor thing”, and some sprinklings of “how brave you were, Wiwohka”.
While you do that, I will go make some oatmeal. I think I can eat it without biting my own tongue, or worse, my lip.
Early mornings have always been my time to be most productive, due to the quiet, most probably. After a good nights rest, the early morning hours become like a peaceful sanctuary. There are few interruptions to distract me from the days goals.
While I may rarely leave our apartment, my day is certainly not without it’s numerous interruptions. There are busy traffic sounds, just outside our windows. An entire five story building is being constructed right across the way, so there are those sounds drifting in, as soon as the work day begins. Never mind about phone calls, text messages, chores, and meal planning. The list is still a long one, even for a homebound writer.
Mentioning that I am a writer only goes to further explain my need for the early morning quiet. While some might find writing in a chaotic environment to be conducive to successful literary creation… I most certainly do not!
Quiet hours of early morning study, prayer, and a hot cup of peppermint tea, are what I consider my most productive hours. As much of my WordPress writing is done live, and without previous preparation, I need it quiet so that I can concentrate. Some days I hit it well, if I’ve slept enough and woke in my normal early fashion. Then there are the days where I didn’t sleep so good, or stayed up later than was normal on the previous night. All bets are off on those mornings.
Well, that was most assuredly more information than any inquiring mind really wanted to know, regarding my productive hours of the day. But, just in case my answer gets used for some study that gets published in the New England Medical Journals, I figured I should put forth some effort.
Just for extra credit, I baked some cookies, as well…
Can there be such a thing as a Wordless Thursday, instead of Thursday Thoughts?
I don’t feel like blogging in the slightest, but the picture looked so inviting that I had to post it, if only to inspire myself to write.
The problem is, I still can’t even decide which chair I’d want to sit in… do I sit stoically on the one side, or snuggle into the blankets and security of the other side. I still haven’t picked, and I’ve been sitting here for 30 minutes, just staring at the picture. I brought pastries, but you’ll have to enjoy them for me. Oddly, they don’t even look that good.
I guess this is how life so often looks, for most of us. Not all days will be marshmallows and rainbows… how disheartening!
I have days where the bible beckons to me like a beacon out of the darkness, and then there are those days.
Some days I catch myself singing worship songs without even needing the accompaniment of music, and then there are those days.
I have moments where scripture rolls freely off my tongue, as if I were reading straight from the bible, and then there are just those days.
Days where I don’t want to read the word, or pray, or sing, or even speak, can arise when things are not what I’d hoped for… when the world doesn’t spin in a favorable direction. What then?
I could close out the world, my feelings, and God, if I so choose it. God doesn’t demand my attention and obedience… He never forces me to do anything, but instead, simply sits with me in the quiet.
I find myself sitting with the bible tucked in my lap, not out of requirement, but out of sheer necessity. It’s the only safe place to be… there in the quiet.
Feelings are fleeting, often changing from one sort to another, in only a moment. If there’s one thing I’ve learned over the years, it’s that a believer doesn’t survive on feelings, but on truth. I do not live by my own understanding, as I did when I was younger. Emotions and feelings are triggered by external sources, brought about by life. It is what it is.
My job is to enact routines and behaviors that keep me grounded in truth, light, and reality. That is done through reading the word of God regularly, and with purpose. Does it matter that I’ve read the bible repeatedly, over the last 57 years… nope!
I swear I get something new out of scripture, nearly every single time I’ve studied it. Isn’t that something? Now, I’ve read and re-read numerous old books from my past readings, and don’t get me wrong, it was great. But that kind of reading is different, more nostalgic than anything else, I think.
When I say that I learn something new, I mean that I actually glean something from scripture that I hadn’t seen or noticed at any other time of study. I’m always left feeling amazed, or in awe of God’s ways. He knows the exact moment that I need a specific word, or teaching. What a masterful teacher He is!
For example, I opened the bible this morning and simply started reading, out of routine, rather than a desire to actually study. Like I said, this morning has been a struggle.
I hadn’t even gotten through the first chapter in Isaiah, when God caught my attention in vs. 5,
“Why should you be beaten anymore? Why do you persist in rebellion? Your whole head is injured, your whole heart afflicted. From the sole of your foot to the top of your head there is no soundness – only wounds and welts and open sores, not cleansed or bandaged or soothed with oil.”
Now, before you start thinking that I am going to attempt paraphrasing here, I’m not. What I want to show you, is how God works in my life, through the study of His word.
While I understand the times of these writings, and the intent of the actual message, it still spoke to my heart in a unique way. Let me explain…
In this current day and time, I am dealing with things that cause me pain, both physically and emotionally… so I’m compromised, as I like to put it. I feel sorry for myself, I don’t want to listen to God if he isn’t going to just fix the problem, and I rebel by avoiding the word, avoiding prayer, and avoiding acceptance of what’s real and true. My head is injured, as it is racing around in circles trying to find the exit (answers). My body isn’t sound, at this time. I am malnourished, of a sort, along with other issues… and yes, it feels like wounds, welts and open sores.
Now here’s the rub… I am a bought and paid for daughter of the living God, and yet I wander around uncleansed, unbandaged, and unsoothed… by choice!
I’ve been holding onto my health, my circumstances, and my own filthy history… shocker!
No, it doesn’t mean that if I simply hold out my hand, God is simply going to heal all my boo boos, and make all the bad men go away. It takes work, effort, and consistent changes for the better, in all areas of my life… all of them.
I’ve locked away all the painful memories of my past, which is good sort of, but not when it becomes an excuse not to forgive… especially myself.
Literally, everything I struggle with today is a direct result of my childhood, as well as how I delt with that experience. My dad’s death was simply the nail in his own coffin, for a life utterly wasted on the pursuit of wickedness. I will not carry his burden, his sin, nor his dirty luggage any longer. It may just take a bit of effort and time to remind myself of this truth.
My health issues are a direct reflection of the damage done by internalizing too much of what life hands you… long term emotional overload!
I know that specific scripture verse may have had nothing to do with me or my father, but the fact that scripture is living and breathing means that God has the power to use his word to speak to me, specifically.
What I do know is that God is with me, never leaving, nor forsaking me, and I know that even when I don’t understand things of this world, He does.
When life becomes too overwhelming, I cling to the one thing that has held me fast all the years of my life… the truth. The bible is my truth!
My health may continue as it is, it may resolve, or it may become worse. I am the one who chooses to dwell on it, or chooses to toss it in a backpack and take it down the road with me. My illness will not define me, nor will my fathers dirty and sordid history… he was a monster. Just because I share his blood doesn’t mean I share in his guilt!
While I’m not sorry he’s gone, I am sorrowful for the life he wasted. I pray that God heal each and every child that this wicked man ever laid hands upon. Have I truly forgiven my dad? Only God truly understand my heart in all of this. I know that if I stood beside him in heaven, I wouldn’t see anything other than a fellow child of God, fully forgiven. It is possible, you know. I don’t have all the answers to those kind of questions. Trust me, I’ve been asking God these things all my life.
I love how Joyce Meyers said, “I may not be where I want to be, but thank God I’m not where I used to be. I’m ok, and I’m on my way!” I can say that I share how she feels.
When I began this mornings blog, I didn’t think I was going to be able to share anything, lol. Boy was I wrong! Sorry for all the wordiness, but as I’ve said before, my blog is usually how I process my feelings. By the end of the blog, I feel better.
Since this community is just right for me, the people oh so sweet, and the neighborhood so warm and inviting…
Well… all I want to improve would be the amount of cookies available to all who visit our street. The happier my community is, the better it makes me feel.
And, what would make a community improved? A sugar high, that’s what!
With more cookies comes more sugar, and more sugar brings out everybody’s happy vibes (well, unless you can’t have sugar).
So, what if a visitor to the community can’t eat regular cookies? That’s what I meant by more cookies, when suggesting what could improve the neighborhood. We need sugar cookies, of course, but we can also make sweeties out of other ingredients, in order to feed those with food sensitivities. Our WP community should NEVER be without sweets, in my opinion. Perhaps that’s why we have such sour politicians in government… not enough cookies!
Before you start thinking that I’m being flippant about caring for my community, I’ll stop you there, as I care very much for those around me. Sadly, I’m not able to become active within my actual neighborhood, as it is very unsafe to exist without my husband as my guardian. You don’t often get to choose your neighbors… only the physical distance between apartments. While I don’t physically go out into my community often, I do pray for them every day, so hopefully that counts for something.
And that, ladies and gents, is my reason for offering more cookies, more encouragement, more inspiration, and more unique characters within The Lobby. You are my community, my family, really.
Cookies?
The cookies on the platter are made with a sugar substitute, as well as, there will now be fruit and nuts for more variety. Just covering all my bases.
I know it’s just a blogging site, Eustace, but I still believe that if we can imagine a thing that is good, healthy, and full of wonder, someone will believe in it!
If I believe in something wonderful, and you believe in it too, Eustace, then it will grow strong like a tree. It’s roots will spread powerfully beneath the soil. With the Son’s warmth, and the Father’s fertile ground, all we’ve left to do is water it with our faith.
If you’ve never watched The NeverEnding Story, you really should. That scene where the princess and Atrayu sit in the darkness together, holding onto the last spark of imagination left in the world, was my favorite part of the whole movie.
If we lose our childlike wonder and imagination, where would all those fantastical dreams and stories go? I’ll tell you where… gone! They would simply disappear, leaving us in a world that lacks all beauty… a world devoid of creativity.
I know today we’ve left you with some deep things to consider. Well, Eustace is a very deep thinking camel, you know, so it shouldn’t surprise you that we often have deep philosophical conversations. Just sayin…
Quite honestly, I’m not sure I was thinking in terms of my future career when I was five years old. Baby dolls, kittens, puppies, candy apples at the fair, and how much I hated liver and onions are mostly all that I was thinking about at that age.
Being born and raised on a farm, my early days were spent on the back of a horse or eating all of the strawberries that my mother was trying to pick for making jam.
Though I may not have thought of my future career when I was five, it’s funny that I ended up doing one or more of my childhood activities for adult pursuits, i.e. raising babies, baking, gardening, camping, hunting, fishing, breeding dogs, homeschooling my children, and now, becoming a writer.
The writer part is the result of the thousands of books I read from the time I was tiny… that and watching Willy Wonka, Bedknobs and Broomsticks, Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, and The Sound of Music, just for starters!
I think that maybe that’s what a five year old should be doing at that age… not dreaming of a career, but dreaming of magic, miracles and adventure, pure and wonderful!
Who knows, though, maybe I was just slow to develop in that regard. Maybe I just watched too many cartoons, and/or read too many silly adventure books. Oh well, I’m still glad I spent my childhood with Gene Wilder, Julie Andrews, Dick Vandyke, and Angela Lansbury, aren’t you? Why? Because, my imagination was born there…
What on earth happened yesterday? One moment I was typing out my prompt answer, and the next, we were moving out of our apartment!
For anyone not aware of our recent FunVee activities, some moron decided it would be fun to set a fire in the 4th floor garbage room, thereby, setting off that section of the buildings water suppression units. It flooded all the way to the basement parking lot!
We’ve had to wait nearly three weeks for them to get to our unit for repairs, and had been under the understanding that they would work around us. That wasn’t happening, as there were about 10 of them + us … which equaled out that we would be spending at least several days, corralled in our tiny bedroom with all our belongings. They needed to basically gut the whole left side of the apartment and the bathroom, as well. Mold has become a concern, so plans changed.
In the space of 4 hours, 6 darling young maintenance workers helped us completely move from the 2nd floor to the 5th! It’s the Penthouse baby!
Well, maybe not THE penthouse, but it’s actually a bit more spacious than our previous unit. Though we’ve just a little one bedroom there’s now room for my office to sit beside my husbands. The nice thing about this is because now I have room to turn my closet into a baby nook for Maisie when she starts coming over. I get to babysit when my daughter goes back to work, and I’m so stoked!
It’s perfect for her crib, and there’s room for a bookshelf and toy bin, once the pictures all get put back on the walls. Baby steps! Hahahahah, I just realized what I did, there.
Why must I take baby steps, you may be asking? Well, you try moving in only 4 hours! Me and my island of misfit internal organs had a field day, yesterday. Fibro started banging on her drums, thereby, sending IBS running off the reservation, and finally that left Arthuritis (yes I purposely misspelled that), to simply wipe out my back for the next several days. Folks it hurts to type, lol! My fingers keep falling asleep.
Personally, I think the move was worth it for the rewards…
Wouldn’t you agree?
(for my daughter’s privacy, I’ll often be implementing our SugarPlum, as my granddaughter’s stand-in.)
I’ll admit that the speed in which things have been moving, has me feeling a bit befuddled, as of late.
It’s as if the flood gates of healthcare and nutrition have all burst open, suddenly.
While it may be rather soon to be saying this, I’m feeling a glimmer of hope. Maybe I won’t starve just yet, so there’s that!
This new primary care doctor is simply wonderful! From the moment I met her, she’s been as tenacious as a wolverine, when it comes to greasing the healthcare wheels. Within this single week, I’ve met with numerous departments in both DSHS, as well as, my healthcare insurance.
This doctor has me fully applied for disability with Washington State, an appointment with a therapist, shuttles for transporting me to appointments, and several other resources I hadn’t had, yet.
I’ve already had a call to set my appointment for Monday to go through paperwork, assigning me a case worker, and all that. My follow-up appointment with this new doctor, has been set for the 19th… and I already have a shuttle reservation. God Bless all those people who serve, selflessly.
And, yes, I have an appointment on the 23rd, with a therapist. You know, I’ve never sought therapy for my childhood trauma, or this whole 6 year dune buggy ride. I’m probably a poster child for complex PTSD, or something. It’s just a guess.
Anyway, the lesson in all this? When God moves, you move! He’s got this!
Journey With Me! 