Distractions and Extractions

What a week it has been! The weather has been extremely blustery, let alone wet ... rain, and yet more heavy rain (I got wet to my undies on one occasion - but perhaps that's a little TMI!).

My week began as I accompanied my mother to a dental appointment. We have the most delightful dentist, who is kind and gentle (well, as gentle as any dentist can be), and has become more of a family friend than a health provider, but we knew that this trip would not be an easy one, so she was a little on tenterhooks.

I sat in the treatment room with her, joking in between injections to try and keep her mind off the fact that she would be having a number of teeth extracted ... which is of course not the most pleasant of situations for anyone, especially as one of her teeth had fused to the jaw bone, and took a little bit more brute force than average to get out!

She was understandably a bit of a poorly person for the following few days, and quickly began to resemble a hamster gathering all she owned inside her cheeks just as daylight was dawning, but nevertheless, she managed to eat some soft food, and down the necessary pain medication.

We now fast forward a few days, and her recovery is going quite well - the stitches were knitting together, and her gums beginning to heal, but whilst sitting at the dinner table, my father heard a crunch, and felt something peculiar suddenly appear in his mouth ... only to discover that a bridge (containing three teeth) had dislodged itself.

Although somewhat stunned by this event, he looked at the bridge, then at my mother and simply said "Well, we've been together 47 years, and my teeth are just coming out in sympathy"! Awww ... that's true love for you ... x

Fortunately he was able to get an emergency appointment to fix this predicament, and there was a huge sigh of relief on hearing that the work entailed would not be as extensive (or indeed expensive) as he had originally surmised - he blurted out "At least I won't have to mortgage the car", leaving our delightful Hungarian dentist giggling once again at some Newth family humour. Sadly however, he also had to endure an extraction, and the stitches are currently knitting things together.

I also found myself in stitches, but of a different kind a few days later. Whilst waiting in a queue in a well known supermarket, I began to overhear a rather muddled conversation which was taking place between two older women - probably in their late 70's - who were standing directly behind me. We were lined up near a newspaper and magazine stand, and one of the women read out a headline involving a high profile voluptuous celebrity ... at which point these dear women launched into a full blown discussion on the value of British light entertainment.

Of course she's in "Up the jungle", I heard her say. Well, I was aware that there were several concurrent reality tv shows on at present, but "Up the jungle?". Ah yes, well, not being a viewer myself it took a moment to work out which show she was referring to. These two dears continued to denigrate the state of British television, but if they could have heard themselves, I think they may have been a little less vocal ...

"As for Saturday night entertainment" the more outspoken of the two continued, "there simply isn't anything decent to watch any more". Her friend, who seemed to be more timid in nature tried to suggest that she enjoyed a little bit of television for company, and before the word "Strictly" had even left her lips, her friend interjected " Oh, you mean "I strictly can't dance", at which point I could hear a suppressed snigger, which took on the form of a congested cough, coming from a member of the queue in front of me.

"I don't know", our opinionated friend continued, "What with "I can't dance" on the one side, and "I can't sing" on the other ... what has Saturday night telly come to? I'd much prefer to just sit quietly and do my crossword" she said, whilst fiercely folding her arms. Her friend seemed to be left with little retort having been put firmly in her place, but a number of others around me were smirking none the less. Perhaps as we get older, we've earned the right to just say what we think, and say it like it is ...?!

Nevertheless, with the weather forecast suggesting yet more heavy rain for the foreseeable future, it seems that my Saturday night may well be spent sitting in front of the box watching "I strictly can't dance" ... at least its worth a try ...

The Alternative Christmas Story ...

My neighbour was telling me that her husband was due to go into hospital for surgery, and that she planned to make use of the time whilst he was recuperating by starting to write her Christmas cards.

Yes, it really is that time of year again ... when shopping centres are full to the brim with hoards of customers ... when tv adverts direct us to almost nothing but Christmas food, Christmas presents ... everything that is well and truly Christmas. It starts earlier each year (the advertising that is, rather than the day itself) ... but, as my second cousin posted on her Facebook page recently "its not Christmas until the Coca-Cola lorry is on tv".

I know that I'll have to get down to writing my cards soon, but just thinking about it reminded me of a somewhat disastrous shopping trip a number of years ago, when things didn't quite go according to plan.

At that time I hadn't been able to go out of the house on my own for a number of years, due to my health problems, but once I had taken delivery of my brand spanking new shiny electric wheelchair ... the world was my oyster ... and a shopping trip alone was an adventure waiting to happen.

My loved ones had to endure buying their own Christmas presents "from me" for several years, as I had been unable to go shopping myself, which rather took the element of surprise out of gift giving, so, this particular year I was determined to go and buy their gifts in person. The anticipation was overwhelming ... foraging amongst the other Christmas shoppers seemed so exciting ... but my fervour soon wore off.

Little had I realised how difficult it was going to be, shopping in a wheelchair ... how everything is placed at angles and heights that are just out of reach when you're sitting down. How people consider you (rather than your w/chair) a nuisance, and just barge in front of you, or worse - complain about you. The bottom line is that its pretty difficult to get near anything to have a good look, especially when displays are larger than life, and the aisles are cluttered with tinselled excess. We all know that shopping at this time of year is never a doddle amidst the crowds, but it can be especially daunting in a wheelchair.

I will never forget how, on this particular occasion, I was trying to reach for a beautiful card, which was sitting amidst a rather large display, and was also just out of my reach. But, being the determined young lady that I am, I leant forward in the hope that I could grasp hold of it.

However, little did I realise that I had forgotten to turn the wheelchair control off, and being a girlie who is somewhat well endowed, I found that I rather "made a boob" of the situation ... as my chest inadvertently touched the controls as I leant forward, and sent me hurtling straight into this wonderful display!! Cards, presents, wrapping paper (and me!) were sent flying in all directions ... whilst customers and staff looked on aghast - horrified at the sight of a deranged disabled woman doing a wheelie - full throttle into their Christmas sensation!

Fortunately nothing was broken, except my pride of course, and although completely mortified, I apologised profusely, and tried explaining to dismayed onlookers what had happened. As I recounted the events leading up to my "mad moment" I could gradually hear sniggers and giggles from the crowd ... and within seconds both staff and customers were in fits of laughter, and I was fortunately able to "make a breast" of the situation.

So ... perhaps if you're out shopping amidst the throngs in the coming weeks, you should beware of the redhead on a mission ... you never know what may befall you ...

But ... along with the hustle and bustle of buying Christmas cards ... food to feed a multitude, and gifts your loved ones long for, I wonder if you will stop for just a moment and think about what you are celebrating ... and why ... ?

For many years I have heard people say "You should write a book, you're so funny". Well, I didn't quite get there, although I have had some poems published, and used to write reams of letters, detailing the intricacies of my life to those who's sole intention was no doubt to aim the contents of my epistles into their waste paper basket as soon as possible! But, life changed ... and so did the frequency of my missives.

Had it been suggested that I wrote a blog a couple of years ago, no doubt my quick response may well have been to tell that person to "blog off" ... but somehow timing is all that it comes down to, and maybe now is the "write" time for me to have a go. At least these musings will be aimed firmly into cyberspace, without being forced in front of anyone's nose, and reams of paper will no longer be destroyed whilst pouring out my heart and soul. I can't promise that there'll be no pouring however - should the need arise.

So, if you've come across this little "Newth sense" by accident, well, its been a pleasure to have you read me (as it were), and if you choose to follow me - you may well be in for a bumpy ride - so hang on tight ... here we go!