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Thursday, April 20, 2017

I SHOULD A KNOWN BETTER (conclusion)

Where was I? It's been six months since the first part of this post, six months a mere sniffle in time, seems to me anymore.  Never one for regular dental visits, pain however overrides fear, in my book anyway. I open the Dentist's door, deep breathes, fear placed on the back burner. Almost instantaneously I find my body hovering above the dental chair. (A wee joke, you see, hovering instead of sitting.) X-rays confirm the damage. Infection, bridge broken, filling pulled out. Why should my teeth be good when the rest of my body is a scrapyard. I leave with a prescription of antibiotics, scheduled to come back in a month after the infection clears up. WHATT!  No pain pills! Other people get pain pills, why not me? Thi old man is in pain, what do you have to do to get pain pills. I suppose old people must suffer while others get their addiction quota!

One of the many, many things I have been learned the hard way in my many, many years. (I kind of like that last sentence.) Why pray tell do you have wisdom at the end of your life, than earlier when you most need it? Any way, "As your teeth goes so does your health." So it seems, so it goes, so I have read.

Before I could leave, actually while I was still in the dental chair a plan of attack for repairing my teeth, wrong . . . I want them suckers pulled!

While getting x-rays the insurance person was keeping busy with my plan and payment for the rest.  What pray tell does ones do without insurance? Suffer I'd reckon! My wife uses our part of our yearly allowance on our dental plan, tain't much, but better than nothing!

Next visit to the house of discomfort. I was sweating before I walk through the door, gonna pull 10 teeth today. Wowza, that seems like a lot o teeth, yes it does! My mind were made up and I be ready! Lord have mercy! Pulling, cracking, sounds like some kind of grinding. I was afraid I was going to pee my pants! He was doing some stitching, what the hell did he do? I must have some gushing of the red stuff! Yikes just when I think I'm at the end of my rope, the magic words are said "DONE" I mutter or at least I attempt to mutter "bathroom." I'm normally light headed, but with my head tilted back for what seemed like eternity, I was woos-ier than normal, yep! I have to climb some steps being as how their rooms of terror are in the basement, thinking "that ought to be fun!" After what was several minutes of emptying my bladder, pressure equalizes. I see the damage, meaning the money it was going to cost me after the insurance pays. I bob and weave to my SUV. I have in my hand a prescription for hydrocodone, yee haw! Hi-ho-hi-ho off to the drug store I go! I did not want to wait so I told them "my wife will pick them up in a few hours." I was feeling no pain AT THE MOMENT. By the time I got my pain pills it felt like 10 tiny people were a jackhammering on each tooth!  What a day! Pain eases but the bleeding won't stop. I go to bed and wake up choking, blood all over me and my blanker, lordy, lordy! I go to the Dentist office first thing. Doctor Dentist says "put tea bags on it." I'm thinking "he must have a screw loose!" I thought maybe more stitches, but tea bags, bloody tea bags! So I get my tea bags and they done the trick.

Next visit he checks my gums, The next visit 6 front teeth are pulled and my upper dentures are placed in, no problem with bleeding.

Yep! I should a known better and took better care of my teeth. You know there are a lotta things in life that we should a known better. Oh well! I'LL JUST CREEP ALONG WITH MY CANE UNTIL "THE BIG ONE HITS" AS RED FOX USED TO SAY"   

Monday, April 17, 2017

NOTHING

I know it's been awhile. From October of last year seems only a couple weeks in Glen's time. I shall make an attempt at where my mind has been a roll out any and everything that comes gushing out of my head. I made fun of my mother who is in here late eighties. I questioned here one day as we were4 sitting on here front porch on a beautiful 80 degree June afternoon. Momma I ask "what are you thinking about?" She replies "nothing, absolutely nothing." Like the pesky son that I am, I did not like "nothing" for an answer. Ya see I have been trying for a couple years now to get inside her mind, I wanted stories of her life which I intended to post her on Glenview. She would say, "I don't remember." I found that unsatisfactory, ya see she a smart woman who was dealt a bad hand in her life, stuck with a joker as a husband, she still rode the hand out as ones of her generation did. Growing up during the 30's, or "the great depression as they would say." Almost every time after trying to get her to open up she would say "you'll have to ask Marvin." Her younger brother. Well now, I did not want to hear it from Marvin! I wanted it from the horse's mouth you see. I wished to open the flood gates, hoping to have stories gushing out like the floods of springtime.

I asked her "didn't you go to school in a two room schoolhouse where children would go until the eighth grade?" "Yes" she replied. Not quite the answer I had hoped for! The only other facts I got out of her was, it had outdoor bathrooms and a hand pump for water, seems everybody carried one of them fold up metal cups for retrieving water. This is the type of facts I wished for the form the foundation of stories about yesteryear, as told through my momma's mind. Imagine a two room red brick schoolhouse which was the mainstay of the country school system back the. Many of these structures were still standing in my younger days. Few remain, a handful still stand, a vivid reminder to those who know what they was once used for. A solid structure, outhouses, a well. WELL, seems a teaching young minds were a might simpler back then! She, like her father were hard working doers not talkers. Imagination, playing, having fun, did not fit into her life per what little I know of her upbringing. She the oldest child was buried deep in chores and hard work. Being big sis to four siblings was foremost in her formative years. Her mother was a small sickly woman as little as I gathered through the years. Helping to raise her brothers and sisters, helping her mother, raising a big garden, canning the fruit provided from the earth was her task. I believe that was referred to as responsibility, so you can see why she was the person she was. The helping of family necessities were ingrained in her. Simply went from her upbringing to bringing up her offspring. Seven children later, retiring at the age of 70, another necessity required of her because of a mistake in judgment at the age of seventeen. (Hey, that's another story.) Factory work her whole life to keep a roof and food on the table for her family. Losing two children od the seven also shaped her, it has too! All I shall tell you about my father at this time, he was a flawed man his upbringing was the opposite of my mother's.

Wow! that came out quick and wrote itself. I'm trying to explain where I rather my mind has been for  six months now. My mind, apparently like my mother has been in hibernation. I know now what she was referring to when she answered "nothing" to my question on the front porch.

She has known responsibility, a beautifully fantastic trait. I reckon her mind has never been her own or so it seems to me, handling the responsibilities of whatever came her way.

I opened the computer for the first time in a long time. Why did the words in front of these spring up. "Most interesting" I might say. I hope as springtime is here my long winter's nap brings forth many more words. The last six months seems only days, no more than a few weeks. My last post about getting work done by the Dentist I shoulda known better seems so fresh. I do know what "nothing means," only I don't wish to return there!

My mother is judged by the content of her life, the responsibility she was made of. I have known many people from her generation. I admire them. The person I admire most in my life is my mother, next is her father, my grandfather. Quiet, hard working. Strong to have survived when others would have folded.

In summation, I like to type whatever comes, it's the attempt to make perfect in my words that bore me. I ask you to overlook the clumsiness of my writings. For I am but a poor clumsy man from my upbringing of a poor school system of the finest buildings money can buy. I never had the chance to go to college, never was a dream from the beginning, no one in my family did. I am a product of my environment and have many stories to tell. I have been blessed my whole life with very vivid dreams and imagination, they're back!!!