Progress

My good Cake with his favorite sock

Finally!

My appointment with the MGH dental surgery department is tomorrow morning at nine. It only took Jen calling the office every day since last Friday and my new brain surgeon’s nurse practitioner calling (at least twice) for them to get back to me. To be fair, they said from the get go that they’re not taking new patients. My rather unique sitch was explained to them and, apparently, they’ve caved.

I didn’t get word of this appointment until late yesterday so had ample time for freaking way the fuck out. You know:

“I can’t have my brain surgery until my tooth is removed (and the infection cleared out) but I can’t get a reply or appointment with an MGH dental surgeon SO I’M GONNA DIE!”

To be fair, I’ve been getting the pre-surgery, radical heebie jeebies for the past couple slice-me-opens—high freakage levels are only relatively new. I blame the fact that I crossed the Rubicon of 60. While my attitude toward surgery is still “you can’t win if you don’t play,” my innards are all “OH FUCK, not again! What if I’m not so lucky this time?” Is it because I’m now closer to the end than the beginning? I expect so. I see my final exit (stage left, of course) creeping up and I’m feeling a little crowded. Back the fuck up Bro!

Why do I need an MGH dental surgeon in particular? All of my records, CT/MRI scans, other surgeons and docs are there. Me and my head have a looooong, deeply complicated medical history. I’m a bit of an odd bird. It’s not a smart idea to foist me off on some newbie or a strip mall, chain store Teeth R Us operation.

So then, tomorrow I move one step closer to getting the busted teeth outta my face and then evicting the giant tumor asshole from my bean. I’ll be truly fucking relieved when this mess is over and I can get back to focusing on rebuilding my balance, strength, resilience and doing nothing at all.

We never live; we are always in the expectation of living.
~ Voltaire

After you find out all the things that can go wrong, your life becomes less about living and more about waiting.
~ Chuck Palahniuk, Choke

Patience, he thought. So much of this was patience - waiting, and thinking and doing things right. So much of all this, so much of all living was patience and thinking.
~ Gary Paulsen, Hatchet