Everyone Has a Breaking Point

I hit mine yesterday. What set it off? Amongst other things, having to go to the dentist this morning. I need to see about the back tooth that broke off while I was in for my most recent surgery.

Yeah, I’ve had three neuro-surgeries this year and, NOW, I need go to the dentist? Life ain’t fair mes amis.

I haven’t seen a dentist in at least ten years. Why not? Last time I went was to have a wisdom tooth removed. The experience was absolutely barbarous and that’s putting it  mildly. After that, I’ve been manic about my dental health—flossing daily and shit. I didn’t want to go back, not even for a simple cleaning. No sparkling Hollywood smile here but, ya know, don’t care.

Everything was fine in Tooth City until now. Here’s the deal—I gotta find out if I’ll need surgery OR if they can whip out the shattered remains without radically slicing me open.

My hematologist has vetoed surgery (due to the mega dose of blood thinner I'm on). While I need to get that zoobie shard OUT, waiting is abso-totally cool by me. Apart from my realistic fear of dentists, I’ve had enough surgery for one year. If it’s something they can rip out without me becoming a remake of Corridors of Blood, OK. I’m NOT gonna be all chill about it though.

Other shit fueling my break? I feel like I’m stuck in PT traffic. That is, it seems like I haven’t moved forward in weeks. Not true but it’s hard to see progress when it moves at such a pre-climate change glacial rate.

I want/NEED to be able to do some stuff for myself. I NEED to have more independence to keep my spirits flying. Toward that end, I’ve set a couple goals.

By September 19th—six months to the day post slice-up, I want to be able to go to and from the salle de bain without spotters. Also, maybe by then, if I put a stool (NO, NOT THAT kind of a stool!) in front of my easel, I’ll be able to do brief-ish painting sessions. Small goals but I gotta start somewhere.

I expect I’ll be using the stairlift for another six months to a year (at least). The grab bars are permanent as is the walker—likely, the brace too. Attractive as it is, I HATE it. I’m so sick of walking like Frankenstein. I hear tell a lighter, less cumbersome, carbon fiber version will be available AFTER I become more stable.

What’s my breaking point look like? Crying all afternoon with thoughts of suicide circling my bean. Yeah, that’s a total nonstarter. How would I do it? Can’t be painful, messy, claustrophobia sparking and it’s got to be a sure thing (that rules out pills). It’s just too boring to keep thinking about. I start looking for funny, happy-ending, Tom Holt books to read and I forget all about it.

It’s a lot easier to stay alive and find interesting and fun ways to live through this.