Tuesday, March 31, 2009

Big Girls Don't Cry

But the Matron did.

This morning--in the midst of an economic downturn (and she's married to a realtor!), the home invasion (turns out they're shrews)  the 100 + students she's carrying this semester -- in the midst of all this, the Matron woke to one beautiful, glistening jewel of a thought:  "Today the implant goes in!   NO MORE RETAINER!!!"

You see, she has been wearing a retainer with a fake front tooth since November!    Ugh!

Being the excitable sort, the Matron has been sharing this very important news about her retainer with everyone she knows.  Her 100 students know that after today at 5 pm, she will be able to lecture without drooling!

Her husband is hoping for renewed interest in Kiss!

Members of the search committee she's serving on are pleased that on Wednesday, the Matron will be able to ask her questions without sounding tipsy! 

The children's anticipation level is nigh-about Christmas, as the Matron has been kissing and hugging and generally dancing around the house as the day drew near!

Food, on actual palatte!  Be still, thou beating heart!!

Yes, friends.  The Matron was hugely happy about her two hour dental engagement, wherein a screw would go into a bone, holding in a crown and replacing the retainer!!   Two hours because her dentist likes extra time--in case of Untoward Event.

Which happened.

First, the novacaine couldn't quite work.  The drill kept hitting some nerve in the Matron -- who, a veteran in the dental chair - is normally quite zen and nearly sleepy in this position.  Today?  She was jumpy and screamy.

And when that drill zoomed in and that screw went into the Matronly bone?  

Dentist:  "Uh oh.  I hit something."

Resulting in blood.  As in the drill made some sort of Error, hitting a vein or otherwise breaking through some undesirable area.   It took the dentist one hour and a hospital phone consultation before he was able to stop the bleeding.

Conveniently, that gave the Matron one hour to play out the likelihood of bleeding to death from a dental appointment.  This might seem strange, except during said contemplation, she was part of the blood stoppage team, mopping up the buckets streaming from her mouth.   It was messy.

FINALLY some sponge-like stoppage was inserted and sticthes applied and the Matron was ordered not to exercise or exert herself for two days so that all systems could clot and clog according to Mother Nature.  

If nearly bleeding to death wasn't so exciting, the Universe gave the Matron another little gift:  the incident meant no finished implant.   She gets to keep her retainer two more weeks, and then try this little fun-fest again!

So when the spent, bloody Matron crawled into her van for the 30 minute drive to teach the 3 hour night class in Creative Writing (during which she must be well, the creative-upbeat type), she sat in the van for a few minutes -- and the weight of being the main breadwinner in a household that's halved its income; the shrews requiring capture and removal; the hormonal early teen hell-bent on an expensive web camera; the six-year old who can't read; the van itself with the upcoming $400 repair; the prolapsed uterus requiring 20 million bathroom trips a day; the spring garden screaming for someone with time to help it; the house that hasn't been thoroughly cleaned in a month; and the daughter whose driving and scheduling needs are a 3rd or 4th full time job (yesterday, an agent called to ask if Scarlett could audition for a Microsoft commercial-which she had to turn down because the child is already booked that week) -- okay, in the midst of all this and STILL with the retainer, the Matron cried -- just for a few self-sorry minutes.

She's better now.  A little.

27 comments:

Kelly said...

I'd cry too, but for much longer.

Oh, and I am never going to the dentist again.

Tammy said...

Oh, poor Matron. I don't know how you keep it all together. Please, have a glass of wine tonight. You deserve it!

Lisa Wheeler Milton said...

Those tears were earned dear lady.

I'm so sorry the implant didn't take this time.

Lynda said...

Ugh.. the dentist! My heart goes out to you.

The Gossamer Woman said...

You could have bawled really hard for a while longer and it still would have been okay. Poor Matron, rotten dentist!

kinderny said...

This is definitely worthy of an "oh poor baby". Real sincere sympathy is underrated. When life sucks sometimes you just want external validation of same. Sorry.

Jenn @ Juggling Life said...

I think that might have earned a call in sick--so you earn big points for just going to work.

Being quite the veteran of the oral surgeon's chair, I have so much sympathy for you.

It's got to get better soon right? I definitely think hubby ought to take the garden off your list.

Mrs. G. said...

Aww Matron. I'm pulling for you. You are due for a break. xxooxx

Becky said...

Oh no! I am amazed that you made it to that 3 hour class. You are a hardy swashbuckler.

You earned those tears (and more)!

Karen ~ said...

Red wine. Clearly necessary here. Lots of red wine. And kleenex, as tears are an entirely appropriate response to the world conspiring against you.

We're with you in spirit!

Amy said...

I think I'll keep my little gap that needs an implant. I have no desire for that much fun. So sorry.

Heather said...

I've been a lurker for some time now. Today I HAD to comment. You POOR thing. To be so excited about something and then... I don't know what to say but I am keeping my fingers crossed that your next appt comes fast and goes as it should with NO pain or complications. From being the lurker Ive been, I can tell you are a strong woman and I you inspire me.

Heather

Professor J said...

I am sending a virtual hug.

Michele Renee said...

When is Spring Break?????? I too would have lost it after the dentist disaster. Hope you and the family can get some of these things crossed off your list soon.

Minnesota Matron said...

You guys are the greatest! Thank you :-) Makes her feel better. . .

smalltownmom said...

You have every right to cry and I hope it helped. And some wine would be good, too.

When I'm in the dentist's chair on Monday, I'm NOT going to think of this.

Jennifer said...

You need a flipping break! Just one or two things to go your way.
Big virtual hug from a complete stranger.

kmkat said...

It has all been said already, but I must say it too: you poor baby, you deserved many more tears than you allowed yourself. Sometimes life just becomes overwhelming -- definitely time for some wine.

Daisy said...

Hugs and sympathy to you!!

SuburbanCorrespondent said...

I wish I hadn't read that thing about the dentist - I'm scared enough in the chair as it is.

Don't worry about the non-reader. My oldest learned to read at age 9 and he's heading off to college this fall, a year ahead of his peers.

JCK said...

OH, you are so brave. So brave. I'm practially fainting just reading this. And would have not cried, but WAILED. And felt righteous in doing so, by GOD. Poor Matron. Sending massive hugs...

stephanie (bad mom) said...

Oh, dearest. I'm practically crying here, without a situation at all similar on my hands. Which means if I were in your place? I'd still be curled up in the dentist's chair, hoarsely bawling away...

Blessings*And whiskey.

Cheri @ Blog This Mom! said...

Oh my God. Blog imitates blog (except I have not posted about my trauma, opting instead to post about my fat butt today). I was in the chair yesterday, too. The. Very. Same. Chair. The endodontist who did a root canal a while back apparently left some sort of foreign object (packing material might be what I was told, but I was busy flipping out, so I don't remember) or something like that in my gum. And now? Infected. Yesterday a different endodontist "irrigated" the infected area with needles filled with antibiotics. And next? A two-week course of oral antibiotics, followed by a surgical procedure through the gums to remove the foreign object.

My face hurts. I can't cry without it hurting more.

Why is this happening to us?

Has the universe has zapped our mouths shut in order that we hear something?

Hmmmmm.

Mary said...

I don't know how you've found the energy to blog in the last little while--but I'm so glad you have! And it must be dental season--since having a tooth pulled a few weeks ago, I'm still trying to convince myself to return to the scene of the carnage to see what needs to be done next. Hang in there--things have to get better--sometimes there's only that one direction to go!

Green Girl in Wisconsin said...

I wish I could send you a truck full of kleenex and painkillers. Poor Matron.
If it helps you feel any better, my 6year old can't read either.

M said...

Oh no, oh no, the let down of it all (not to mention the blood, the pain, and all the other stuff).

witchypoo said...

I have a horror of dentists starting when I was very young. At 18, I was traumatized by an infamous local "practitioner". He was the only guy around for hours; I had an emergency extraction, and he was drunk with filthy hands. I spit out pieces of jawbone for months afterward.
I now have a cavity that you could park your matchbox car collection in.
I so sympathize.