Saturday, February 18, 2017

Strippers, splints & a split nation: Meanwhile, life goes on for most of us

two splints

 

A couple days ago, I got a call from the dentist’s office letting me know my new occlusal splint was here, c’mon in & let’s see how it fits.  For the last couple months I’ve been wearing a large, green rubbery sports guard between my teeth (at bedtime) to let the muscles in my jaw relax some, but it made my teeth & gums sore and I usually woke up each morning with the thing clenched in my fist or somewhere under the covers.  This new (clear) appliance was custom-fitted to my mouth & is a very hard acrylic, but more comfortable to wear.  (It’s also a lot more expensive; the sports guard from Wal-Mart was $5.00, the custom one cost me $250.00!)

When I asked the dentist how long I’ll need to wear this thing, she said “Probably for the rest of your life, you didn’t know that?  You have a serious jaw disorder, it’s not going to just go away like a cold or the flu.  In time this may help reduce the rigidity of your masseters, and prevent this from happening again.”   All I know is, it allows my jaw to relax some at night; I don’t have to make a conscious effort to keep my teeth separated (as my swollen jaw muscles tend to push down the insides of my mouth and clamp my teeth shut).   Isn’t this fun reading?

Doug, get to the part about the stripper… ok, ok!  This is something I shared on Facebook yesterday, the day after I got my splint:

Back in the mid 90s, a couple of the women in my office decided to hire a stripper for our IT manager’s birthday, “Nurse Candy” to surprise our boss during our weekly Friday meeting. When Candy & her giant silicone boobs arrived, she set down a little pink boombox and began doing her number. The 2 girls who arranged the surprise clapped & laughed—while the rest of us sat there in stunned silence. A couple women turned their heads, others looked down at the floor, one person covered their face with their hands.

Yesterday afternoon I sat in my doctor’s office waiting room, along with 5-6 other people watching Trump’s first “press conference” play out on the waiting-room tv. The reactions from the people around me were just the same as that awkward IT meeting 20 years ago! Just saying Don't tell anyone smile

What I didn’t add was that after that press conference, one of the women in that waiting room said “I guess none of us are Republican…”  and an older gent said “I am, so is my wife.. but we didn’t vote for this.”   I don’t know if he meant he didn’t vote for Trump, or didn’t vote for Trump’s godawful, delusional ravings but I suppose it doesn’t matter.  This piece of shit is now in office, it’s only been one month and I think he’s made his agenda quite clear:  he doesn’t have one.  Adore him or suffer the consequences.

Getting back to Facebook, I wonder if the liberals on there, or the “sore losers”, are feeling worn down, defeated like me.  I hope that’s not the case.  They once voiced their fears for immigrants, womens rights & the environment, and shared links of ominous warnings from more popular liberals (like Dan Rather, Michael Moore) that we’re doomed.  But aside from a couple die-hards, have grown quiet.  Most now share the usual hodgepodge of things, myself included, and life goes on it seems. 

All I know is, for the last couple days my teeth have been chattering.  I don’t know if it’s a side effect from that acrylic splint, or listening to Trump’s Hitleresque rants, or both.  It’s probably a little bit of both.

chattering-teeth

Thursday, February 2, 2017

Just click your heels and say “There’s no place like one year ago… there’s no place like one year ago…”

just click your heels

Sometimes, when I haven’t anything better to do, I go online & visit my blog here to see what I was up to around this date a year or two ago.  I see that this time last year, I was excitedly comparing my ongoing weight loss to 8 sacks of sugar and the February before that… well, you get the idea.

I admit my life (for the most part) has been a pretty boring one, but up until a few months ago it was a comfortable one too; I enjoyed my daily routine and familiar surroundings.   Why I gave it all up, along with years of accumulated books & other things to move back to a hometown which hasn’t been my hometown for thirty years… into a dowdy apartment no less, overrun by a hyper-watchful landlord (who stormed into my place one night because I had my kitchen window cranked open a couple inches while it was sprinkling outside)… it was a poor decision made under duress, from the TMJ that was ravaging my health & mental well-being.   We’ve all done regretful things, but this was a doozy.

When I started this particular blog, I was going to try & make it a more light-hearted one.  Here’s what I miss from one year ago!  My worn couch that was fine for flopping down on, Obama in the White House (had to throw that in), my own thermostat, free tv because I lived in the city, my sexy but deadly Russian neighbor Uriel, etc.;  but the more stuff I come up with, the angrier I get!

And now, a recent conversation with my 84 year old neighbor Nancy

ME:   Hi Nancy, how are you today?

HER:  Eh? What’s that?

ME:   I SAID HI NANCY.

HER:  I’m not deaf.

ME:   I’m sorry—how are you this morning?

HER:  Not good, I dropped a can of tomato juice on my foot.

ME:   Ouch, I sure am sorry.  So how long have you been here now, 6 months?

HER:  Seven months.  A long time. 

ME:   I take it you don’t like it anymore than when you moved in?

HER:  Too many do’s & don’ts.  The woman who lives below me snores!

ME:   Yeah, the floors here are pretty thin.

HER:  You remind me of my husband.

ME:   Yeah, you mentioned that once before.

HER:  He died in his sleep, August 1988.  He was 55.  Same age as you.

ME:   I know.

HER:  When I got up that morning, I thought he decided to sleep in. So I did my things, had my coffee, went out, came back and made lunch.  He was still in bed, cold as a fish! 

ME:  Well… nice chatting with you Nancy!

Believe it or not, she’s the one bright spot around here.  So for the time being I have no choice but to stick it out… I signed a one year lease back in September, and unlike prison there’s no means of escape.  I just hope that when the time comes, I can get some version of my old life back again.

There’s no place like home….my old apartment, that is

my old teepee

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