Is that a Hole in my Head?

I have scant time for this, but since my author friend Nicole Seitz thought I should share this story, here we go. Note: there’ll be even more rambling than usual because there’ll be zero to none editing. We good? Cool.

Once upon a time, (which was actually just last week), I had a hole in my head. I do not mean an actual hole. That’s just the phrase that kept coming out every time I talked about how it felt to be missing a tooth on the top FRONT VERY VISIBLE SIDE of my mouth.  Backstory? Oh, okay.

It was way too late at night to be putting a piece of hard candy in one’s mouth, but since one’s husband had just left to go BACK to the farm to check the water gates, and one was determined to knock out a bit more work while he was gone, one gave in to the temptation to consume a rare piece of peppermint. (One would generally go for dark chocolate, also known as my medicine.) I have no idea why I’m using the one thing. Stopping it now.

So, I crunch down on the candy and something feels amiss in a “What is this strange thing I’m tasting with my peppermint?” type of way. Interesting… a LARGE piece of tooth.  I immediately told myself that it is probably in the back. “Sure, Self, that’s it. It’s in the back.” This worked for one nano-second before my tongue ran over to the top front side and shouted, “Oh, heck no! It’s right here, Captain!” I may have tripped and busted it trying to get to the bathroom mirror to confirm the tongue’s announcement. There I stood, in shock, attempting to grin in order to assess my new look. I believe what I was producing is called a pained smile.

If I sound merry about this, consider the elapsed time along with the temporary crown I’m sporting that looks so close to the real tooth that I could fool my Mama with it if I tried. But, I’m getting ahead of the story.

I slept very little that night. Again, it was the tongue’s fault. Tongue spent the entire night running over to that hole in my head like it was flat-out incredulous that I wasn’t doing something about it. “You DO know there’s a hole here, right?!” Sigh. “Yes, Tongue, but what do you think we can do about it at this hour!!”

That was pretty much my attitude the next morning at six o’clock as I contemplated the choice before me. It was Wednesday. Ever  since hubby got me the kayak for my birthday, I’ve been enjoying my early morning kayak trips down the lake on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. (I’ll tell y’all another story about limiting my obsessive more-is-more self to three days a week some other time when I’m not knee-deep into this ramble.) On the one hand, I wanted to go kayaking and my dentist wouldn’t be in the office for hours. On the other hand, who in their right mind paddles merrily away from the dock at six o’clock in the morning with a hole in her head? Me.

Extra info that you need at this point: our farm, along with those belonging to our friends and neighbors, is dry. We need rain. That morning, I felt like Father was asking me to worship on my ride the way I would IF we had just received a huge soaking rain and IF I didn’t have a hole in my head.  I complied.

Are y’all still there?

Fast forward. (You’re welcome.) After I shower and complete my usual early morning makeover, though considerably less successful this time, I discover MY dentist is on vacation. Perfect. Now I’ve got to find another dentist who will take me ASAP because I’m supposed to be leaving on another road trip The Next Day.

Phone calls ensue. BFF tells me to try her dentists. It’s two of them in one office, she says. They’re wonderful, she says. They’ll fit you in, she says.  They may be wonderful, but they’re also overbooked.  Move along little doggie.

What next? I had typed the name of another dentist in my search engine to find the phone number when I felt a familiar check that I’ve learned from past experience to be the Lord. So, I stopped, and asked for direction on the next step– which is when I got the strong impression that I should call my parents. My parents! “Um, Lord, I realize you have a number of kids and you may have lost track here but I’m not three years old any longer! Why exactly do you think I should call my mama and daddy?” Silence.

Fast forward again. (You’re welcome again.) Once I complied and called my folks about my plight they told me I just HAD to call their dentist, that they had given my books to everyone in the office (go, parents!) and everyone there just loved me (this is said through their parent filter, mind you). They were positive their guy would squeeze me in. And he did.  What’s more, the entire visit was so pleasant it was hard to believe I was at a dentist’s office. I was in and out with a lovely temporary crown in less than an hour and everyone there was super nice times two!

The takeaway– life, it just keeps coming. Everyone has good days, and everyone has hole-in-your-head days, but perspective and prayer really can ease the pain.

Hugs,
Shellie