Body and soul.

Amazing how life can be so dictated by either one or the other...or both. The older I get the more I see that it is a fine line between perfect and horrible depending on how your body and soul are doing.
This tooth thing has been a nightmare. When she pulled that stinking tooth out I imagined I would feel better, relieved that the pain was gone.
Nuh-uh. There was a rotten infection in there that seemed to be unleashed when the tooth was gone, typically I spent friday thinking that the pain I was feeling was a result of the force needed to dislodge and remove that tooth and it's 3 foot root, oh alright, not really but I do think it was actually attached to the 3rd rib down on the right, I am pretty sure I felt that rib snap as she used that lever tool thing, a metal tool of torture that was shoved in under the tooth ( after it had been drilled in half) and ( might be making this part up but I don't think so) had a seat on the other end, 7 dwarves, the dentist, her assistant, my ex husband and at least 3 other people who bear me a grudge sat on the seat and bounced, causing the tooth to fly out, thus followed a celebration of great magnitude by the crowd in the dental surgery and some tears and a few "thankyou dear Lord"s from me.
"It is over," I whispered, as I wiped the sweat from my brow and the blood from around my mouth. I staggered from the surgery walking sideways and stumbling into the walls a time or two, enjoying the fresh air and feeling of joy at still being alive. Also, the glorious dead mouth, nose and right ear. No feeling, pins and needles and nothing more. I do remember lisping and commenting something like " ha, my babieth came out eathier than that damn tooth... I think my jaw will be really thore when that deadneth wearth of huh?"
The dentist and dental nurse nodded and rather tactfully said over and over.
" that was a tough one alright, phew!"
So, friday I took many painkillers and gargled with salt water. I rubbed my cheek and jaw quite tenderly and marvelled to myself about how long this was taking to feel better. I was more than a little snappy with people who were breathing around me, who walked past me and caused a breeze that slapped my painful face and selfish gits who still wanted to, you know, eat and stuff, even though my mouth was so bloody painful and had a gaping hole of much pain ( how does something that isn't there hurt? Bizarre!)
I don't even remember what other people ate, yesterday is sort of a fuzz to me, nice tablets, thankyou.
By 2am I was a pacing animal, luckily the rest of my family was asleep because the pain was making me crazy and I knew that this wasn't normal.
Ooooh, I know, get that thing, you know, the thing you bought that came with the sharp thing. ( you understand I wasn't thinking terribly clearly. Pain + drugs = idiot) I bought one of those dental kits with the weapon like deal you can scrape tartar off your teeth with ( lovely, try not to picture it, it's right up there with thinking about other peoples' toenails or earwax) Well, I bought one of those and with it came a mirror on a stick so you can check if you really did manage to scrape off that horrible hard tooth crud properly.
So yes, 'Oooh, go and get it and look at the hole and see what is going on' ( at 2.25am) Oh dear heavens, what was going on was a gaping hole filled with pus. Lots of swelling and greenness and stomach churning surity that this is not how it all should look. What to do what to do is middle of night and now am sure I will never sleep with pain and visions of oozing green stuff that is IN MY MOUTH.
Ooh, OOOOOOHHHH look in medicine cupboard again.
( disclaimer to all medical people, ignore the next bit, I know all the 'GASP' never DO THAT stuff)
Anti biotics, prescribed to H for something that obviously didn't bother him too much because he didn't take them and there they were, all red and yellow and promising to make me well and kill green stuff. So I took one, managed to sleep my usual 3 hours ( does that mean I slept well? I did sleep as long as I normally do after all) and woke up at 7am with my cheek throbbing and my face aching fit to explode. Take another one and repeat 3 more times in the day.
It is now 11.35pm and I am thrilled to report that my hole feels like a sore hole now. A gazzillion times better than feeling like a booby trap bomb hole. The H meds are working. I actually went 6 hours without having to shove handfuls of tablets down my throat in a frenzy of ' oh please let these work and not react to each other or kill me or anything, just let them stop the pain. Please!' Paracetamol, ibuprofen, dihydrocodiene and a migromax powder because they stop migraines, maybe they will stop face rot pain too, please Lord.
My throat hurts because I assume (and might believe that I am now qualified as a doctor/dentist having diagnosed and treated and prescribed drugs for myself so effectively and all) that the pus ran down my throat and spread it's horrible soreness and revoltingness down there as well.
My head sort of hurts but more in a 'bloody hell, those drugs were pretty good but what the hell??' way rather than 'ow, have headache' way.
I am almost sure that if I were to stagger up the stairs right now I would be able to sleep. I forced myself to look with the mirror on a stick thingermebob, looks much calmer and less oozy already.
Hoorah.
The whole point I am wanting to make ( there is a point! imagine!) is that more and more I see that to function well, my body and my soul need to be on an even keel. If my body is out of whack, off par, my soul tends to fret. Everything seems more dismal, it is so much harder for me to see things rationally and it.is.all.so.hopeless. As I start to feel better, LOOK! sunshine and all is well, we can conquer. I am amazing. Etc.
When my spirit is sad, when my mind is in the depths of despair...my body goes to hell in a handbasket and all kinds of weird shinnanigans start going on.
One of these days you will come here and could be forgiven for thinking that you hit the wrong button. I have visions of becoming an organic only vegan sort of girl. Actually, my head is on it's way there, I envision my life as a wholegrain crusty loaf buying, basket carrying, filtered water and leather hand made sandal wearer quite often. Usually when I am scoffing a mars bar and driving the 300 yards to the supermarket to stock my cupboards with e numbers and sugar. The mind is willing.......the body is still on auto pilot dragging me to Asda at the moment. One step at a time, one step at a time.
I want to get my body and soul working together, I really do.
Keep delurking, I like it, say hello and show me who you are and where you are , my google analytics thing isn't working at the moment, could be when I changed my sign in whatsits, I think it doesn't realise I am me and so has gone on holiday somewhere far far away. When all the drugs are out of my system I shall see if I can gather enough brain cells together and reset it all so I can click and marvel at how many people pop in to read about my day.
I can snigger and cringe at what key words bring people here ( just love whoever typed 'how can I look up rude things without my mum finding out' absolutely hate and want to gouge out eyes of perverts who type in 'little boys' and then come here......may those creatures know eternal misery.)
I sake my head at the fact that 250 people can come by and yet only 3 or 4 say hello. Go, on! say hello.
In the back of my dusty mind I have the beginnings of some pretty cool ideas. Some ideas of how I can change my life and make an enormous difference. Might take a while to get them all together and then start acting on them. Nice to have new thoughts though. Always nice to have some new thoughts, the old ones are so dull nowadays.