When Mama Snaps

     Two days ago, I had my very first root canal. The Endodontist that performed it was an impossibly young and perky woman, who spoke at ten times the speed that most people talk, even for a New Yorker. Things progressed right along, while she chatted away on subjects I had no ability to add input to.
     She remarked that I was "substantially infected" and that she was actually very surprised by the depth of it, but decided against antibiotics, because my body should take care of it for me. Because of the infection, she did what she had to do for now, and instructed me to come back in a few weeks to do it again and finish it up. Making a follow up appointment, I headed home again.
      Because it was Ash Wednesday, and my mouth was still numb, I announced we had to go to church because sometimes, I don't really want to go to hell. If you go to church status post a root canal, it has to count somewhere, right?
     In church, George watched the proceedings with a considering eye. Finally deciding, he turned to me and whispered "Mom. I know what the ashes are made out of."
     "What are they made out of?"
     "Bodies of really bad people." right about then, the numbing in my mouth started to wear off.

     Anyhow, we made it through another foray into church with no lightning strikes, and headed home again.
     Yesterday, I woke up and just knew the recovery was not going to go well. The pain was worse than I had been assured it would be. I made it through work in a daze, and made it home again, completely miserable. Nothing was helping the pain, and I decided that all six of my previous surgeries were a walk in the park compared to mouth pain.
 
     This morning, I woke up and instantly knew my face was not as it should be. Sure enough, I was swollen from right under my eye, down the face, and into the neck. Lovely.
     I had patients I really couldn't reschedule without inconveniencing lots of people, so, I went to  work, figuring I would call the dentist later and ask for an antibiotic to be called in.

     The day began with an email that became a string of emails that set the tone for the entire day. My face became worse, and a fever set in, and I was having a hard time even spelling correctly at this point. I finally had a minute to call the dentist. A receptionist answered the phone and put me on hold. When she picked up, in my nicest warmest voice used for melting even the toughest of my patients because I hate inconveniencing people, I explained the problem.
      'Well, the Doctor isn't here today, so, there's nothing I can do about it."

     "There was a number that she did give me, but, it specifies not to call unless it's after office hours. Are you supposed to call?"

     "I can try, but, it's her day off, so, you will have to wait till she is here on Monday."

     "My face is deformed, and I really don't think this can wait until Monday."

     "Did you put heat and ice on it? Did you even take Ibuprofen?" she demanded like I was an idiot.

     Deep breath. "I have tried all the usual remedies for this sort of thing, and it appears to be worsening. We were aware there was an infection when I was there Wednesday."

     "Fine. I am not making promises, but, give me the name of the pharmacy you want something sent to."

     So, I told her.

      "I need the address and phone number." she huffed. Lovely. So, I googled it and gave her the information, at which she banged down the phone.

     The email chain continued, and I was getting sicker by the minute. The more I saw these emails, the more aggravated I became.

     Then the swelling made opening my eye and swallowing difficult. I called my doctor, and was told there were no openings until next week sometime. A few hours had gone by, and the emails continued, along with a request to travel to Manhattan in the near future to train staff there. "I can't get time to travel two hours away to train people on this side of the state, how am I going to do this??" I wondered in panic, trying to decide how I would handle my patient load and travel at the same time. Already wondering how I will train someone next week who will be coming to my clinic for training while I deal with a full panel of patients for the day at the same time.
     Usually, I can handle everything without even thinking about it. Today was not that day, and a genuine panic was starting.

      Meanwhile, I received a text from Kaila. There is a person on Facebook that makes things up for attention, and whose kids go to my kids' school. Kaila sent me a picture that directly contradicts a recent self righteous Facebook post, and I became even more irritated. "Kaila, I swear to God, if you ever start posting lies on social media for attention, I will beat the hell out of you." I snapped in my feverish and grouchy state. "Well, I suppose I will go to Heaven then, if you're going to beat the hell out of me." came to spunky reply. "Forget it. I will just throw cans of Red Bull at you. It gives you wings and all that." I retorted back. At which I was told I was like a cute angry chipmunk in my swollen grumpy state.

      More irritating emails came, that indicated even more work on my already overfull plate. I sat and looked at it and decided on the spot that I wanted to go back to bartending. So, in a state that should have kept me in bed today, I fired back a response that even surprised my boss.
   
   
     The face situation was getting dire, so I called the dentist office back. "Hi! I don't mean to be a pest, I was just wondering if - " "YOU NEED TO HOLD ON!" And, I was put on hold. Several minutes later someone came on the line "What do you need?" the voice demanded. "Hi! I called earlier to ask about getting an antibiotic called in and - " "YOU NEED TO HOLD." Okay. So, I held for several more minutes. Finally someone picked up again. "YOU were told this morning we would do what we can. The dentist is OFF today, what more do you expect me to do???" Screamed some female on the other end. In shock I paused, and ventured in my best soothing nurse PR voice "Hello! I am so sorry to be a bother, I just wanted to check the status of my earlier call, and see if anyone had been able to -" "I TOLD you, she is OFF! You need to wait until MONDAY! WHAT MORE DO YOU EXPECT ME TO DO???" She screamed in my ear.
     "Okay, I understand that. The dentist had given me her cell number to call, should I call that? I did try to reach my primary care, but there were no appointments - " "LOOK. I don't know what you aren't  understanding here! SHE ISN'T HERE! SHE. WILL. NOT. BE. HERE. UNTIL. MONDAY! She was here earlier and tried calling you, and YOU didn't ANSWER!"
     "No, I have my phone right here. No missed calls..."
      "WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO DO ABOUT IT??"
     "I just would like to know if she called anything in?"
     "I TOLD you, she isn't HERE!"
      "You just said she WAS there... at this point, this infection is spreading alarmingly and I really -"
     "I don't know what you expect me to do about it?" This girl continued to scream at me. I just snapped. I watched another email pop across my screen and just snapped.

     "YOU LISTEN TO ME. This is the WORST customer service I have EVER had. It is unprofessional to speak to ANYONE, let alone a PATIENT this way. I have been nothing but nice and reasonable, but, getting screamed at is completely unacceptable. I would LIKE you to be CIVIL, because I do NOT appreciate being SCREAMED AT!" I yelled into the phone.

      "Well, if you want to WAIT ten minutes I will try to BOTHER the dentist ON HER DAY OFF, BUT IF IT'S THAT BAD, YOU CAN JUST GO TO THE EMERGENCY ROOM. THIS IS NOT MY PROBLEM! AND I HAVE PATIENTS HERE AND THINGS TO DO!!!!" She screamed at me.

      "I happen to be a NURSE. I also happen to have PATIENTS. And if I EVER spoke to one of them in this manner, I would be FIRED! This is absolutely the WORST treatment I have EVER had from a medical office, and I cannot BELIEVE you are screaming at me."

     "YOU LISTEN TO ME YOU -" She began, in a full rage now

      "NO. YOU Listen to ME. I am NOT continuing this conversation. We are done." and I banged the phone down.

      Scowling at the latest email, I informed the sender what I thought of his email, as my phone rang again. It was the dentist herself.

      Soothingly she told me she had called a prescription in, and invited me to text her in a few days to let her know how things were progressing. I mentioned that whomever I had spoken to had been seriously rude, and was told "I am not there, but maybe they are having a hard day at the office." Sighing, I thanked her for her call, and privately thought that I would be lucky to have a job if I screamed at patients every time I had a bad day. You know, like today. I managed to keep it to two "I am not dealing with this nonsense" emails and did not scream at anyone. Shortly after, I saw I had missed a call from the screaming receptionist, stating she had no idea why I had hung up on her, but that she had had the dentist on the other line while she was talking to me, and that if I had been reasonable, she would have told me the prescription had been called in. At which I swore heartily at my phone and the liar's message. I am sure her ears were ringing.
      I then left early for the day, picked up my prescription and went home.

     I did not scream at the woman who apparently had been parking in my driveway after picking her kid up from school nearly daily, and waiting for my kids to come home, and telling her kid to ask if he can stay at my house and play, but who refuses to speak to my kids. And who doesn't particularly seem to care how her 7 year old gets home in the dark, hours later, some distance away. (We drive him. He's a good kid.) I did make her roll her window down and told her I was in no shape to have extra kids today. She didn't seem happy with me, but, I didn't care. I did feel sorry for her poor son, who she seems eager to pawn off nearly daily. Who DOES that? Just parks at houses waiting for the occupants to come home, and then refuses to talk to them? But, I didn't scream at her.

     Over dinner, Bearded Man told this story about his childhood and a ceramic crock that, by this arm dimensions was approximately 4 feet tall and 3 feet wide. The story continued and I finally said "I need to know where they got a crock that big, how it was cleaned and washed, and where they managed to keep something that big?"
      "You don't believe me?"
      "No. I don't believe you."
      "I am telling you, it was THIS big!"
       Slamming my hands on the table, I shouted "NO! It was NOT! There is no way anyone has a ceramic crock that big!! I am DONE listening to people tell these stories and lies today! I am NOT putting up with it on FACEBOOK, EMAILS, DOCTORS OFFICES, OR MY OWN HOUSE! I CANNOT LISTEN TO THIS TODAY. SERIOUSLY. I. JUST. CAN'T!"

      "Call my brother! He'll tell you we had one!"

      "FOUR FEET ACROSS???"

      "NO! It was about the size of a 55 gallon drum!"

      "THAT IS NOT THE SIZE YOU INDICATED EARLIER. Does EVERYBODY think I'm an idiot?????"

      "Oh my Gosh, you are the cutest little angry chipmunk ever." laughed Kaila
     
      So. Now me and my angry chipmunk face are under a blanket, and I was handed ear buds to listen to music and not have to hear anyone else today. Honest to goodness, I think I am sick and burned out. Maybe this is the push I need to go back to school. I need to think about this when I am fully coherent again.

     The name of this blog indicates I am not a perfect person, and am fully aware of that. I realize I am old enough to not throw tantrums and yell back at people. Maybe it's the recent uptick in watching the general population treat each other badly, as if it's a God given right? Possibly getting treated badly one time too many was just enough of a shove to finally make me lose me normal calm? Maybe it was the fever or the swollen face. Maybe I am just a jerk. Thankfully I have three days off to regroup. So, there. You see that I am not a terribly nice person at all - at least, today, anyway.

You Need to Think Big!

     Written while the housework and laundry pile up around me. Honestly, I am not sure why I continue to keep up with either.

     It was with a sigh of relief that I arrived at Sunday School this past weekend and realized that there is a two week hiatus and I just had to get through this week. Most of my students piled into the classroom, and I braced myself for the usual shenanigans. The kids weren't too bad this week, and, while I hold no illusion anything I taught actually penetrated thru the skulls of even one of those kids, Joe sort of amazed me.
     There is this girl who occasionally wanders into Religious Ed and completely hates every minute of it. Having her cell phone confiscated every week does nothing to improve her opinion of the class. Actual quote this week: "I need to look at the phone, because I wanted to see the time."
      "There is literally a clock hanging on the wall five feet in front of your face."
      "You expect me to tell time on that???"

      Anyway. When this kid does tune in, she doesn't like anything that is being said. With no phone and no one to talk to, she decided to argue whatever I was teaching. She asked a question I did not know the answer to, so, I hauled out one of my reference books, and read the answer to her.
     
     "I still don't understand what you are saying, or why things have to be that way." she pouted. Unfortunately for her, she sits next to Joe every week.
     "That's because you don't think 'Big' " said Joe.

      "What?" She snapped crossly

     "You don't think Big. I mean you want to think what you think, and you don't want to open your mind or your brain and think outside the box. You know; think "Big". You just heard the answer, but, because you didn't like it, you are saying you don't understand. You do understand, you are just refusing to think Big, or outside the box, and learn something that you don't want to, because it's not what you want to think. You will never learn anything if you are not willing to think Big, and think that maybe just because it's something you don't want to hear, that it's not the right thing. No one is going to change everything because you don't like it. So, open your brain and think!"

     My mouth dropped open, as I listened to my kid sum up pretty much the general problem with society in one paragraph. Meanwhile, the girl glared at me and informed me Joe was weird, and to please make him shut up.
   
     Sunday school was just a small part of this past weekend. Lexi turned 14! For her birthday, she wanted money and a trip to her favorite mall near Buffalo. Listening to weather forecasts that were calling for sleet and freezing rain, I took her up early in the day and proceeded to follow her twice around the entire mall. Upper and lower levels. It was exhausting.
       While there, I took care of my once yearly foray into the makeup store. As usual, a very young and perky girl bounced over to me and, with the enthusiasm of a puppy who just found her very best friend, begged me to let her help me. Digging out last year's lipstick tube, I told her I was looking to replace this color, please. At which the poor thing became crestfallen, as, if I had just kicked her and hurt her to the core, and told me that they no longer carried that color. She did stand right there and excitedly help chose new colors though. Two lipsticks and an eye liner later, I was told with no small amount of excitement that I now qualified for three free items. I was dragged all over the small store. "Lotion! You need lotion!" she informed me happily. "No, I'm good. I just bought lotion over at the "Pink" store."
      "Why would you DO that?? That stuff smells like chemicals. It's full of chemicals, too! Are you trying to die???"
      "I will smell good when I go, I suppose. Let's look at something else."
      "Makeup remover!" she bubbled, running over to another corner of the store. "Look! I will spray it here on my arm where we tested your lipstick, and it will come right off!"
      "It doesn't appear to be coming off..." I pointed out.
      "That just shows you how great our lipsticks are! They will last you all day! How about lip conditioner? It get's rid of gunk on your lips!" she said, rubbing it on her arm. "OW! Well. Maybe not. This hurts." she decided, putting it back.
      We managed to find six things, and I escaped the store for another year.

      I do have to say, taking my 14 year old shopping was this side of shocking. Most of the stores we entered featured clothes that were not particularly decent. Short shorts, half shirts, half sweaters, and skin tight everything seemed to be the general trend. My daughter walked into and then right out of most stores. If the clothing wasn't indecent, it was pre-torn. It seemed as if the current look is somewhere between the "can't afford nice things" and the "Most likely to post pictures of myself on social media that my mother can never ever be allowed to see."

     Update on the dishwasher situation: It is now sitting on the front porch. If it isn't gone by Saturday, I have decided to take it to the local dump myself and be done with it.
      Update on Kaila's car: it's still sitting dead in front of the house. However, she starts her first non babysitting job on Thursday, and is hopeful she will be able to fix or replace her car in the near future. Which would be a good thing, because, she will be taking my van on the nights she works, and I will be effectively without transportation on those days. I may as well get used to it. Lexi and Joe aren't terribly far behind the driving age.

     Kaila decided she needed to get serious about a job shortly after I had her in a bar recently by accident.

      One of my brothers also sings and plays guitar. He does a lot of "open mic" nights, and has been asking me to come to one forever now. Recently I agreed to make the hour long drive to open mic to see him, and, per his instructions, brought Kaila along with me, as, she's a singer too.
      We arrived at a very small brewery/bar that was packed shoulder to shoulder. Hauling Kaila thru the crowd, we found my brother by the bar. "I'm the last singer, so, it's going to be a few hours" he shouted over the noise, and, wincing that it was a school/work night, and, that I had my kid in a packed bar, we settled in to wait. My brother mentioned maybe selling his beautifully babied and maintained SUV to Kaila, (who is dead broke) and Kaila decided on the spot that she needed to step up the job game and get either fix or replace her car. The night wrapped up with Kaila getting up to open mic and belting out a One Republic song. With a crowd of drunk people, and no one filming her, she figured no one would remember much anyhow, and really loosened up and rocked the song right out. On the way home, she told me she wants to do open mic again. And, that she couldn't wait to go to school and tell her friends that her crazy mother had her out late singing in a bar.
      I didn't get a call from the school asking me to explain myself, so, she presumably didn't announce it too loudly. She was perfectly safe the entire time, and surrounded by my brother, his girl friend and myself. Memories and stuff.

      That's about it. Tomorrow is root canal day. I kept sneezing today at work, and, when a coworker remarked upon it, I thoughtlessly said "Wonder what happens if you sneeze mid-root canal?" at which we both stopped in horror thinking about the possibilities. And now, it's pretty much all I can think about in regards to the root canal. I don't imagine it would kill me, but, I do think it could make things a little more interesting. Wish me luck!

   

       

Therapy Brownies

     I am going to knock this one out quick while the "Therapy Brownies" cool.

     Every year at this time, according to my social media memories, I get sick. Not the cute "curl up in coordinating jammies on the couch delicately dabbing my nose with a tissue while sipping tea" sick. I mean, the "OhMyGodIAmGoingToDieAnyMinuteNow Nothing cute or loveable about it sick, sick.
      This year, I have the added bonus of a tooth that keeps infecting, as well as a "stress ulcer" on my gum that was huge, and, according to the dentist: "Wow! People get those when they are really stressed in life! What is going on??!!!" "Oh, you know. Stuff."

     Anyhow. My root canal is scheduled for Valentines Day. And, I nicely scheduled it for afternoon, so I could work half day and then drive an hour and a half to the dentist, so as to not inconvenience lots of people. Because I am an idiot.

     Anyhow, it must have all caught up, because, even after ten hours of sleep last night, I found myself getting unreasonably irritated at an email signature that was ridiculously, pompously long today. It even included the email address of the email sender in the email signature.
     It wasn't even from anyone of any significant position.
     The more I looked at that email, the more irritated I became. I realized I should probably walk away from my desk, because I was obviously in need of a breather, and that these are not things anyone has any business getting that worked up about.

     I would have come home and poured a Therapy Drink, but, Wednesdays are also "GI/Liver Doctor" day, and, I spent all morning with patients that were largely sitting in my office because of too much therapy drinking.

     The kids came home from swim night at the school, and commented that the house smelled delicious.  I explained it was Therapy Brownies. It seems they all had reasons to need Therapy Brownies too.

     "I have to sit with a 7th grader at lunch, who eats paper. Including his homework."

     "The High School Principal came to our class today, and, since too many kids have been out of school for whatever reasons: we have been told we can only be out three days between now and June 6th, or, we will not be allowed to go to the Prom or Jr./Sr. Banquet." (Just what I want to hear from my daughter with the chronic health issues...)

     "There was a bunch of girls from Lexi's class who kept picking on me today."

     "I just like chocolate."

     So. Super Mom here is being a terrific example, and, we are all going to drown our stress in Therapy Brownies tonight.

     The "up" side of being sick, was, I did get a break from Sunday School this week! With no voice and a cough that began in my toes, I had to send in the Bearded Man to deal with it. Everyone survived, I am told. But, he was so exhausted that he came home and slept all afternoon.

     Which brings me to the dishwasher.

     Recently, a friend of mine was re-modeling her kitchen, and selling all her appliances. I asked her if she planned on replacing her dishwasher as well, but she had already given it to her mother. She did let me know of someone else who was getting rid of a dishwasher, so we decided to go take a look. Honestly, I have four dishwashers, but, every so often I think about getting a working dish washing appliance that I haven't given birth to, and which would get the job done without me personally being responsible for the entire village of Franklinville's yearly employee bonuses because of my water bill.
     Approximately 4 weeks ago, we went and got the dishwasher. We hauled it home and before even thinking about installing it, realized it had issues. So, there was no point in replacing the non working dishwasher with an updated version of a non working dishwasher.
     It's been nearly four weeks, and that dishwasher is still sitting in the kitchen. Bearded Man has sworn he will take it to a guy he knows, who accepts these things as scrap, but, whenever there is time, Bearded Man sees the "nagging glint" start to shine in my eyes, and manages to need to be elsewhere.
     So. I threw a table cloth on it, and decorated it with a plant, a tea pot and a pumpkin from October that hasn't died yet. Bearded Man ignored this. Yesterday, I cut out all different colored hearts and we decorated it for Valentine's Day. Which has also been ignored. I figure I will eventually have to fold down the seats in my van and just take it to the local dump and be done with it. I can't deal with this thing in my already too small kitchen. Or, I will decorate it for St. Patrick's Day next. It could go either way at this point. Which is just another reason to consume Therapy Brownies.

     Around here, we are all pretty much sick of the snow. I am of the firm belief that, the only time feet should be wet is when they are in the shower, walking thru the surf of the beach, or, willingly during the summer when watering flowers or dangling them into the local town pool. Anything else isn't tolerable, really. That being said, we all slopped our feet to work and school today and lived through it, but, the snow is just anther reason for therapy brownies. Even George is wishing for green things to grow again.

     Hopefully Springtime will arrive sooner rather than later, and we can spend more time outdoors and on the porch. Which is even nicer than therapy brownies!