In May I noted a finish line is a dangerous place. I go all out for personal goals but sometimes go too far. I’ll inadvertently set myself up to get steamrolled. Fate tends to take advantage of these brief moments of weakness. Spring was rough but I muddled through; mistake acknowledged, mental note to be wiser in the future, etc.
“Hi, I’m Fate. Congratulations on finishing a marathon while simultaneously solving the technology behind cold fusion and saving a kitten from a tree. You look a bit peakèd; possibly exhausted. Your mental and physical reserves are drained. Therefore, I’m going to kick your ass. Here’s an overdue tax bill, the cat just threw up in your boots, your truck’s transmission has a beer can jammed in the gears, the taco you ate for lunch was packed with salmonella, and your chicken coop is on fire. Bwa ha ha ha!”
Fate’s a wily bitch. I try to anticipate the one two punch combination that’s her style but life is… well… life is life. As with most things in life, results are mixed.
Earlier this month I crossed another finish line but carefully left myself an open schedule immediately afterwards. Ideally, I wanted a bit of time to bask in the moment, but I was also paranoid. I wanted options in case another shoe was about to drop.
Damn glad I did! I didn’t necessarily get hit by the second shoe but things did get uncomfortable.
I had a minor pre-existing dental situation. No biggie. It wasn’t even bloggably interesting. I knew it was coming and planned for it. I’d arranged an appointment well in advance. I was “looking forward(?)” to the privilege of a modern skilled dentist in a clean facility packed with gleaming technology. I paid cash, in advance, several weeks early. I’d worked out all the details.
I wasn’t in pain; I just had a situation that needed handling; in no particular hurry. I was feeling pretty confident because I had all my ducks in a row before I went off to climb my personal mountains and slay my personal dragons. I even had antibiotics in my pack while on my walkabout. They were insurance in case things went pear shaped while I was far from town. (I didn’t need them.)
Everything went swimmingly at first. I enjoyed my short break. Then things changed. It hit me solid and I didn’t see it coming. A tiny twinge became a larger headache and subsequently a multi-day skull splitter. It happened gradual enough that I didn’t quite realize what was happening and yet too fast for me to catch it before I was l already miserable. It’s odd how subtly a situation can go from “nuisance to be handled in due time” to “pull this fucking thing out of me even if you have to do it with rusty pliers”.
In the last few days before my appointment I wasn’t able to accomplish jack shit. I tried but it was no use. I only later realized I’d been “toughing out” pain for many days and it had been increasing every day. What a dumbass! I was acting like the parable of the frog in boiling water. There was no clear moment where I said “wow, I’d better take stronger action”. I eventually found myself in a situation when the moment to be proactive was already in the rearview mirror. Whoops.
Then, the dentist did a fine job and I recovered in a few hours.
WRONG!
I’ve been blessed. I haven’t had many dental “events”. I didn’t know what to expect. I gave myself a whole day to recover from a procedure that lasted under an hour. Surely that would be adequate?
WRONG!
Either I’m a wimp or I was optimistic because it hurt more than I expected and recovery took longer than I planned. It killed the scheduled day, and then killed the subsequent weekend, and I was vaguely messed up several more days. I’m still not firing on all cylinders.
That said, I’m not complaining, it really wasn’t that bad and modern dentists are better than the crude sadistic ghouls of my youth. It’s hardly worth mentioning in the overall scheme of things. The bummer is that my awesome planning didn’t really help me dodge pain and downtime.
I’m not sure what the lesson is in all this. Is it that I should’ve freaked out on day one? Or that fate is always going to outwit my feeble plans? Or maybe I was going to lose a lot of productive time no matter what. I can live with that. Possibly there’s no good time to have dental work and no magic way to recover faster. Everyone has occasional pain and wasted time and that’s that.
Either way I planned like a pro but still “lost” a week or more. On the other hand, I’m thankful for the good care that I received. It can get much worse:
