It Wasn't TMJ

Well, I saw my dentist on Monday, my birthday, to tell him I had TMJ. He x-rayed a tooth just to be sure, said the tooth looked fine, and I told him I'd like muscle relaxers, cause that's how it was treated 10 years ago. I also wanted anti-inflammatories and he told me to take Advil. Then we discussed how much ibuprofen I was taking and he declared it was way too much.

I left his office and went to work. I kept taking more ibuprofen. A co-worker told me I should call him back and tell him I wanted "the good stuff" to relieve the pain. I thought I'd wait for the muscle relaxers to work.

The next few days were a fog. I tried going to work for a few hours on Wednesday and a co-worker offered to get me a McDonalds shake at lunch. YES, I said - THANK YOU. And as I sat at my desk, falling asleep cause the pain was keeping me up all night, I thought once I get that shake, I'll be fine. Well she called and said guess what? McDonalds has no shakes today. I never understood how a place like McDonalds could run out of shakes. That was the final straw for me. I left work, stopped at another McDonalds, got my shake, and went home.

Thursday I woke up with a face that looked like the Elephant Man. I had a 7:30 mammogram scheduled, and I went from there back to the dentist, with no appointment. This is the second time in my life I have done this. Once when I was pregnant, I had horrendous head pain and didn't want to be told I could come in later in the day, so I had walked in as soon as the office opened and said I can't wait for an appointment. So I arrived at the dentist and the friendly receptionist said hello. I said I don't have an appointment, but I know I have a problem. After 3 nights of googling TMJ in the middle of the night, I had spent the previous night googling "abscessed tooth" because I knew that's what I had. The dentist graciously examined me again and said "this isn't TMJ." I said "I know." He said but the x-ray was fine. I said "I know." He handed me 3 antibiotic pills and said "I'm writing you a prescription - fill this right away, and if you don't see improvement by tomorrow, call me and I'll try to get you in to see an oral surgeon." The pain was horrendous. First thing the next day, I couldn't talk because I was so swollen and it was like I had 100 marbles in my mouth. I had my husband call and ask the dentist to get me in to see an oral surgeon. He did.

I went to see an oral surgeon at 12:30. He looked at me and said "I hope I can extract this today." That shocked me; I thought that's why I was there. I asked "why do you say you hope you can do this today?" And he said "because I don't know if I can control the pain." At that point, temporary pain didn't bother me if it would just end the chronic pain. He walked out and I said to his assistant "I am a wuss - can he knock me out?" She said she didn't know. He took more x-rays. I was surprised to learn that an x-ray will not always show an abscess. He said "I am confident this is the bad tooth" (the one the dentist had initially x-rayed, that showed nothing). He gave me a local anesthetic and pulled out the offending tooth. I looked at that little thing and thought I can't believe that little thing can cost me so much money and so much pain.

That was yesterday. I am on vicodin (the good stuff) and an antibiotic that I have to take every 6 hours and I can't lie down within a half hour of taking it. That makes sleep hard. I finished my book club book and caught up on People Magazines. I still look like the elephant man. The pain is less intense. The ultimate irony is that I have lost weight during this ordeal, but I look like I've gained 50 pounds. My formerly double chin is now a quadruple chin.

People have said "you're lucky it wasn't TMJ - that is very hard to treat." I think I am lucky that this is behind me, but I was hoping for a normal face by this point.

I missed almost a week of work. I have watched every episode of Housewives of New Jersey. I have learned I can't stand being out of commission.

July 6th - Another Year Older

Well, today is my 52nd birthday. Our plan was to go to Little Italy yesterday to celebrate, but I have been afflicted with something that I believe is TMJ - and which is causing me a lot of pain. I was up at 3 this morning, reading emails and looking for blogs to read. The email part was fun, because this feature on facebook allows people to put my birthday on their calendar, and it is quite amusing to me to receive birthday greetings from old high school friends who I haven't spoken with in many, many years.

As for the blogs, well, it seems most people have taken a blog break, cause there wasn't much new out there!

Years ago, my son Joe declared there were 2 types of older females. A "lady" is a thin, beautiful female, with long hair. A "woman," on the other hand is an overweight female, usually with short hair. He did not hesitate to point out that I am a woman. Now whenever I hear the terms "woman" or "lady" I find myself thinking in terms of his definition. I wonder if I ever get thin in this lifetime and if I ever grow my hair out, if I can qualify as a lady. But being a woman is not all bad. I think of a woman as being more seasoned than a lady; someone who works harder; someone who's been around the block. So today I will define myself as a 52 year old woman.

I have had mixed feelings on the facebook concept for a long time now. At first it was fun, and then I thought ok, I've been there and done that, and there's nothing more to do. Then my friend Sharon convinced me to put my maiden name in there (I argued and said why bother) and I believe she was right in that - more people came out of the woodwork. I will say that most of the people I've "friended" (Sharon, who is in the know, corrected me when I said "befriended" and told me "friended" is the correct term) were not people I was good friends with in high school, but it is fun seeing what they are up to now. It seems most of my fellow Clevelanders have left Cleveland for places south and west.

A few weeks ago, I received a facebook message asking if I'd like to meet for lunch; one of the transplanted ladies (yeah, she's thin with long hair) was going to be in town and wanted to meet for lunch. I hesitated, cause I do work for a living, but then decided I could take the time off, and life is short, and I should do this. So I went. There were 7 of us who got together, and I have to say, it was surprisingly enjoyable. We had little conversations with whoever was next to us, and bigger conversations with the whole table, and I was surprised by how much in common I had with these people. As I looked around, I thought I really wasn't friends with any of them in high school, but it was very easy to talk to them, and it occurred to me that we had more in common than I thought. I think just growing up in the same period, in the same place, gave us that commonality. As an adult, I seldom meet people who I can just fall into an easy conversation with (other than the blogger friends I've made this past year, who are surprisingly open and friendly)!

So, as I wait for my dentist appt in mid-morning, I will hope to be pain free so that I can celebrate yet another year of being a woman.

Me and Heather and a Dead Mouse

Last night, when I was so tired from my lack of sleep, I was looking forward to bedtime. David and Joe went to see Hangover, and I was home with Heather (age 21). It suddenly started to pour, and I quickly opened the door to let Bing the Cat in, and then I ran upstairs to close the windows.

As I was coming down the stairs, I saw a dead mouse in the hall. I assume Bing brought it in to proudly show us what he had been doing outside.

Me: (screaming) "HEATHER!!!"
Heather: "WHAT?"
Me: "There's a dead mouse in the front hall!!!"
Heather: "So what do you want me to do?"
Me: "KILL IT!"
Heather: "NO - you kill it!"
Me: "I can't."

I did venture a little closer to make sure it was dead. Today I was discussing with a co-worker whether it's better to find a dead mouse or a live mouse, and we agreed it would be better to find a dead one. I thought ok, maybe I can pick it up with an oven mitt. But that was just too gross for me to handle. So I moved the garbage can into the hall and got a broom and a dustpan.

Me: "HEATHER!"
Heather (annoyed): "WHAT?"
Me: "Come and help me."

Amazingly, Heather appeared. I handed her the dust pan.

Heather: "You're giving me a dustpan?"
Me: "yes. I'll sweep it in and you hold the dustpan."

Amazingly, she took the dust pan. I took that broom and swung like it was a golf club. We both screamed. It landed in the dust pan.

Me: "Throw it in the trash!"

She did.

Me: "Help me close the trash."

She did.

I grabbed the trash bag, screamed, and ran outside with it.

We are such wusses.

Another Night of No Sleeping

I have found that Sunday nights are usually my worst, in terms of not being able to sleep. But last night was really ridiculous.

For some reason, I felt the need to worry about anything and everything.

My son lost his wallet. Who took it? Why? Did we need to worry about identity theft? Could it be lost in his car? How much money did he lose?

I had a doctor's appointment scheduled for this morning. Would I have gained weight? What is the lightest thing I could wear to the appointment?

I needed to get more exercise. Would I have enough energy to get up before my doctor's appointment and take a walk? If I did, would I be able to stop sweating after my shower? I didn't want to subject my doctor to my sweating body.

Over the weekend, I had read twice about the 10/10/10 rule. That rule suggests that with every complicated decision you make, you should consider how it will affect your life in 10 minutes, 10 months and 10 years. Well, let's face it - most worries will continue to be a worry 10 minutes from now. But 10 months or 10 years? Hell, there will be new things to worry about then!

This started at 3:00 AM. I stayed in bed for a while, trying to convince myself that nothing would matter in 10 years. It didn't work. I came downstairs at 4:15 AM. I let old Pepper the dog out. As I opened the door, I saw a car driving very slowly down our quiet street. Who could that be? What was that car doing? I finally realized it was the lady who delivers our paper, come rain or shine. I had no idea she arrived so early every day.

I read emails. I don't know why I subscribe to the New York Times via email. It comes way too often! I never have time to read it! And the only email waiting for me in the middle of the night is usually from my sister Laurie, who keeps bizarre hours.

At 4:30, I finally went back up to bed and turned on my lamp to read. I then noticed a fly that was buzzing around the lamp shade. I watched and listened to it for a while, and it became increasingly more annoying. I finally banged my book against the lamp shade. Well, that did 3 things. It woke David up; it caused tons of dust to fly thru the air – it’s one of those pleated shades that collects dust; and it caused Milo the cat to come racing over to see what was going on. Milo immediately made it his goal to kill the damn fly, which I missed when I banged the lamp shade. Milo got inside the shade and started pawing it, and the fly flew below my nightstand, as did Milo, and then Milo emerged, seemingly victorious, and climbed on David to sleep.
Mission accomplished. Easy for Milo to then relax; he's a cat. He doesn't have to get up in the morning!

I finally fell asleep at 6:30, only to be woken by the alarm at 6:45. I actually was glad the alarm went off, because that meant this awful night had come to an end!

Marty's garden

Marty's Garden (created in memory of my wonderful father-in-law Marty, who passed away 3 years ago) has gained a new addition: an official sign. My son Joe created the plaque in ceramics class a few years ago (it's hard to read, but it says "In Loving Memory of Martin Luther Krauss"), and our friend Jim created the official sign holder to hold the plaque.

Jim is actually the one who gave me the idea for creating the memory garden. It has been his tradition to plant items in memory of friends who have passed away. It is a wonderful way to honor and remember a loved one.

Our House Guest

Is this the cutest thing ever?

David's friend Jeff has been on a long road trip. He lives in FL and has been working his way up to our cottage in Michigan. En route, he stopped in Cleveland to stay for a few days. And he brought his little friend Ducky.

I worried about how my old dog Pepper might respond to Ducky, because Pepper is a border collie mix and I read once that border collies are a jealous breed. And we have certainly seen that. If we are seen petting or holding one of the cats, Pepper is immediately by our side, saying "give ME all your attention!"

Well, amazingly, Pepper loved this little shih tsu. She followed her around, with her tail wagging more than I've seen it wag in years. It's like she thought Ducky was a little toy.

Jeff lives alone and Ducky is a wonderful friend to him. He is clearly devoted to him. When Jeff wanted to take a walk, he had to sneak out. And when he returned, Ducky greeted him like he had been gone for months.

It was a fun 2 days.

DINNER AT THE FOLKS

Dinner at the folks tonight. It can be comical, and tonight was one of those nights.

I was driving home from work today wondering what I was gonna do for dinner. David went up to the cottage in Michigan. Heather went down to Athens to move from one house to another. And Joe is never around. I loved that I was going to have an evening where I wasn't expected to prepare dinner. So I got home and my dad had left a message on my machine: "We have leftovers from a tray from Corky's. You must come for dinner. Call when you get this."

Corky and Lenny's is a well known deli in Cleveland. My dad was in a fraternity in college and at age 86, he still gets together with his fraternity brothers. The guys and their wives spend New Years Eve together and gather for dinners throughout the year. There have been deaths, illnesses and remarriages, and they are all going strong.

I will also add that my mother has the same "disease" that my sister and I have. It gets worse as we get older. The disease is that we always use the wrong word when we are telling a story. Our families are used to it, and they usually know what we mean.

So I called my dad back and said it's only me, but I'll come. I asked what time. He said I don't know - it's just 3 of us - you decide. I said ok, 5:45. He said 5:46. I said ok.

And I arrived at 5:46, cause that's how I was raised.

The table was set for 3 - me, dad (Art) and mom (Lenore). We all sat down and my mother looked at the tray and this is how the conversation went:

Lenore: "Oh look, there are sweet potatoes on the tray!"
Me: thinking, but not saying "huh?"
Art: "What do you mean there are sweet potatoes on the tray?"
Lenore: "What are you talking about? I never said there were sweet potatoes on the tray."
Art: "Bonnie, did she just say there were sweet potatoes on the tray?"
Me: (laughing) "yes."
Lenore: "Well I can't believe I said that."

So I went to help my dad, who can't see, with his sandwich.
Me: "What do you want on your sandwich?"
Art: "Steak pastrami."
Me: (looking at the tray with similar looking meats) "Which is the steak pastrami?"
Art: "What, have you become a goy? It looks different than the corned beef!"
Me: "OK, what else?"
Art: "Mustard."
I put some mustard on the bread.
Art: "That is not enough mustard! Even I can see that there's not enough mustard!"
Me: (looking at the tray) "Oh, I see sweet pickles. That must be what mom meant by sweet potatoes.*
Art: "You didn't know that? Of course that's what she meant. You think I could be married to her for 63 years and not know what she meant?"


Lenore: "Have some fruit. I cut up some fresh fruit today."
Art: "I'll have fruit."
Lenore dishes out a few pieces of cantaloupe.
Art: "That's enough."
Lenore keeps dishing out more fruit. Art and Lenore start talking to each other. Lenore keeps dishing out more fruit. Art keeps eating more fruit.

Me: "What are you gonna do with all this meat?"
Lenore: "Sam's coming for lunch tomorrow. I think I'll freeze the rest."
Me: "I don't think cold cuts freeze very well."
Art: "We don't want to freeze it. Call Bernice and invite her over for dinner tomorrow. We won't tell her we got the tray today."

Someone said my family is like a Seinfeld episode. Too bad the show went off the air. I would have plenty of material to submit.