Tuesday, 22 September 2009

I can’t think of a title

Thursday we had guests for dinner. Kid guests, so pizza and salad type dinner. Buy pizzas, add toppings, chuck in oven type dinner. When you smell burning, open oven door, have it fall off in your hand type dinner.

Yes. The oven door. Fell off into my hand. Fell. Hot door. My hand. Yes.


Now I have a shiny new oven, hurrah!

Have you all noticed something by the way? That I only ever get shiny new when old and crappy finally falls apart? I never get shiny new just for the sake of shiny new. Hmm. I should complain about this to whoever controls the Budget. Which would be me.


Friday, I took my tired old teeth to the dentist again. He’s been working on my impacted wisdom teeth, and I had an owie bit. He poked. He prodded. It wasn’t my wisdom tooth. The owie is another tooth. I have to have a root canal.

I’m scared of dental work, by the way. (I used to be scared of dentists but an old classmate is a dentist and he isn’t scary so I can’t be scared of him. I’m just scared of what he does). The idea of dental work... especially something as horrifyingly scary as a root canal… is a tad “worrying”.

Well, he said. I can always just yank it out instead.

I’m not even forty yet, am I not a bit young to lose my teeth? The lily-livered majority of me is leaning very heavily toward the yank it option. The tiny bit of rationality in me knows I have to do the unthinkable, but whoo boy. Very scared.


To keep things in perspective though, an update. Thomas has started his chemotherapy. He is fighting every step of the way. Fighting taking the medicine I mean, poor kid. He’s still in hospital but they are hoping to at least visit home one day this week or next week. Keep on sending those good thoughts and vibes, people, please.

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