Tonight my ex came round and we had a meal and a chat. He came round initially because I had some logistics to discuss. My wisdom tooth has to come out. This means I have to go to my Mum's to recuperate during term time. This is a problem, though not an insurmountable one. I need my ex to completely take over care of my son for a while. It seemed polite to run it past him. And in the end, we both gained a lot from having to spend an evening together. It's the first time we've really talked since we split up. Now we know something of what the other has been going through there's possibly a move towards détente. You can't stay at war forever, and this has been a very cold war. Icy hearts, huge walls, the odd missile crisis and far too much tension. Now, and only now, it seems we can talk. Yes, a dental crisis precipitated the shift but so what? At least we're talking. We may as well make the most of it before I find myself unable to talk at all.
My last extraction took a month to get over. The tooth in question shattered in my mouth, leaving the dentist with very little to grip on to. There was a subsequent infection and dry socket (where a clot doesn't form properly and the hole doesn't heal) all of which means I totally don't remember last July. Except that I missed a wedding.
This wisdom tooth, well to be honest it is a right sod. It's impacted under the jawbone, near a facial nerve and in need of cutting into four pieces to remove, after they have sawn off a chunk of my jaw. I knew this four years ago when it first flared up. Then I got ill and surgery kept being put off, because I just wasn't up to it and I had a choice to delay, which I am thankful for.
The thing is with chronic long term conditions is that other stuff still comes along. Life is like that. I could at least postpone this for a few years. I couldn't do the same with tube-feeding or other emergency treatment that just had to go ahead. I got through all that. I will get through this.
My son gets to stay with his Dad for three weeks, maybe longer. My ex, thankfully, has the option to work from home in times of crisis, freeing him up to get to school. They will watch action films and Dr Who replays, batter the playstation, run riot and generally have a ball. Ralph...hmmm. Suggestions welcome. He would hate a cattery, but I have pet insurance which may cover 'emergencies'. Depends what they think of my health, as I am pretty much uninsurable now. But we're talking about his insurance, his boarding fees, albeit because of my emergency.
Son happy, cat sorted, I can retreat to my Mum's and hole myself up until I've healed. My immune system, whilst not great, is better than when I weighed next to nothing. Part of the decision to act now is because I am in relatively ok shape for me, and still ultimately have to tackle my medication conundrum. I can't embark on that with major dental work hanging over me. So on October 9, all being as well as it can be, out it comes. And off I will go.
I have a week and a half to forward plan. I can use this time to:
- Take my son out to see a film, maybe go to the park, take him skateboarding
- Enjoy autumn in some small way before I am in bed recuperating
- Compile a list of very funny films to rent from Amazon's DVD rental service - I will be setting up a list to deliver to my Mum's address, and will leave it in place for her. She needs some laughs too at the moment.
- Gather thoughts on what reading matter will help for when I'm in bed. Big, beautiful picture books for starters. Gardening books. I can manage a short visit to the library and stock up before I go.
- Borrow a friend and do some emergency bulb planting quick. I need to see crocuses, snowdrops, daffodils and tulips in my garden next Spring.
Autumn now has to be condensed into ten days. Well so be it.
Bring it on.