20 December 2025
1144
R. Linda:
We (brave souls that we be) invited Big and his Dragon to Thanksgiving dinner this year. Yes, we bit the bullet and decided that if we invited them for Thanksgiving, we'd be by ourselves for Christmas. That last is yet to be seen. Anyway, I knew the Dragon was having a root canal and probably would not accept our invitation. However, I was wrong, as usual. She did accept, toothache and all. That's what I wanted for me holiday, a complaining Dragon. All I could see in me warped mind was a Dragon sitting across from me at Thanksgiving table, looking like Jacob Marley, a bandage around her jaw tied in a knot at her crown.
She had gone for one root canal appointment, hoping it would be the only one. However, the Endodontist discovered that her root ran in another direction, and she needed the crown on the infected tooth removed so she could reach it. Well, needless to say, the Dragon was in pain. She couldn't get an appointment to have the crown removed until the week after Thanksgiving because her dentist was on vacation. So that meant her root canal appointment would not be until the week after that. Oh, the pain!
She was given low-dose antibiotics, which did not do much for her. She has high blood pressure, so Tylenol is the only painkiller she can take, and well, not much help there.
The day arrived, and the usual long limo pulled into our humble driveway. The poor dear was helped out by a solicitous husband and gently supported to the front door, as if she had mobility issues. I shook me head at this display and knew then, and there, we were in for it. We'd be blamed for her discomfort, I just knew it.
Well, R. Linda, the moaning and groaning, the complaints that she couldn't sleep or nap, echoed around our walls. This was the day before the big turkey feast. I found that Big was as knackered by the complaints that he could do nothing about, but be sympathetic, had finally worn him down. Me idea all along was to help out in the kitchen, get dinner ready, and not be available to socialise. Seems Big had the same idea.
Now, Mam enjoys her kitchen and doesn't mind the help, as long as it's the help she needs. But the two of us were in the way, not doing "it rioght!" I had stuffed the turkey, but Big insisted on putting the turkey in the roaster and put it in the tray upside down, to wit, she had a fit. He was shooed out, and I stayed. I felt sorry for him, but was happy it wasn't both of us shooed out.
As the family sat down to dinner, I could hear the Dragon complaining she knew she could not eat any of it, just the soup maybe. I ladled the soup out as Tonya carried it to the table, and Mam turned down the cooker so she could partake.
Well, the sipping and slurping of Dragon (whose excuse was that she still had residual numbness from the injections a week before, uh-huh), exasperated Big because he was at his wits' end with her. I was just happy she wasn't drooling! I looked at Mam, and she got me silent message. She told Big she could use his help in the kitchen if he didn't mind, and that it "would give Gabriel a break, since he'd been helping so much." You'd have thought she told him he won the lottery. He jumped up and went right to it, a huge smile on his face.
As we were waiting for the main course, Dragon's phone rang. She looked down, and it was a message from the Gastroenterology Department at her hospital, reminding the poor dear she had a colonoscopy scheduled for January. It was a WTF moment.
"WHO DOES THAT?" She shouted, entirely insulted to her core. "It's Thanksgiving for crying out loud! Do these people not have family that they find it FUNNY to harass me on a holiday?!" As if the Dragon wasn't stressed enough, now THIS.
I was thinking someone at the Gastroenterology Department had a warped but funny sense of humour. I did not voice that, but well . . . you know I thought it.
I won't regale you with any more of the Dragon saga, but I will give you the aftermath once she was home.
The crown was removed, and the dentist, just back from Honolulu, prescribed stronger antibiotics. This seemed to end the tooth infection, but her gums hurt from all the injections. It turned out she did need that extra week for her mouth to settle down. The Endo person got the rest of the angry root out, and the Dragon was pretty pain-free. She has to go back in what is becoming her least favourite month, January, for a new crown.
In the meantime, not to be outdone, me very own apple-cheeked, grey-haired Mam got a call from the office of "Dr House" who wants to perform hand surgery on her. She said she wasn't interested, but the "House" office has been persistent. So they set a date and called her for preliminaries. They asked her standard questions, including whether she gets winded or tired going up stairs and whether she can walk three blocks without feeling winded or tired. Mam has a heart murmur (you will remember Story #1140 Who's Your Cardiologist? 25 July 2025), so the answer is no, she cannot walk the three blocks and stairs . . . well, sometimes she gets winded and other times she doesn't. So there!
That brought the next question: Is she seeing a heart specialist? Why no.
And what has her general practitioner prescribed besides a statin? Why nothing, why?
Well, usually, if you are experiencing breathlessness, you see a pulmonary specialist as well. Mam said she saw one not long ago.
Ok, and what did he say? He said she had sleep apnea, which she says she does not.
Ok, did he test you for that? No, he just was convinced I had it, and I don't.
The whole sorted story came out as Mam poured out her grievances. The woman on the other end of the phone was shocked. "What a jerk he sounds! And who is this doctor you saw?" And Mam tells her, and she says, "WOW, I'll egg his car for you! What a terrible thing to do to a patient!" And Mam commiserates, and the woman tells her, "I'll get him back for you, don't you worry." To which Mam starts laughing. They both call this man a jerk, and I am overhearing this, hoping the conversation isn't recorded.
I tell ya, I live in a crazy house!
Gabe
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