If anyone is still reading this blog – I am so very sorry that I haven’t
updated (not that anyone was holding their breath) or even bothered to respond
to all your lovely comments. I’ve just been going through a blue funk for the
last month. Punctuated by bouts of whirlwind social activity. Or extreme lethargy.
So it’s not been the best month so far. A lot of things that I don’t
want to happen are going to happen very soon, and I keep thinking about it, and
it makes me very cranky, annoyed and hard done by. A lot of things I want to
happen are also hopefully going to happen, but that’s not
happening for much longer so I get frustrated thinking about it, and then
realising that its really far off, and getting cranky all over again. I feel
like this year, I’m just waiting for September to come, so I can start this
exciting new phase of my life then, and I HATE the fact that I’m not really
living in the now, but just waiting for the future to come.
Now that I’ve sounded suitably vague and mysterious and angsty, you’d
think I’d leave it when the going is good and spare you further details. But
alas, innocent reader, that is not to be. I shall now entertain you (not!) with
the gory details of the especially awful week that has just gone by. To start
with, I slipped and fell down and hurt myself pretty badly – bruised knees,
aching back, scratches on my feet, the works. After a few days of this pain, I
was recovering and beginning to feel better, but then I did something to my
neck, and it hurt so bad that for two nights I couldn't sleep because of the
pain that kept shooting through my neck and right shoulder every time I turned
in my sleep. Of course, I kept moaning and screaming loudly enough to keep waking up poor Nike who kept rubbing balm through the night*.
The crowning glory (pun unintended) was the visit to the dentist on
Sunday for dental flap surgery. *GORY DETAILS AHEAD* It basically involved separating
my gums from my teeth, after which they are folded back like a flap so the dentist
has direct access to the roots and bone. The dentist then removes infected
tissue, plaque and tartar from this area, and then stitches the gums back in
place. *END OF GORY DETAILS*
I have a very low (read non-existent) threshold for pain and
communicated my discomfort very clearly to my dentist so he suggested we do it
in two sittings. This weekend, he did the procedure for the upper set of teeth.
I was given anaesthesia so it was totally pain-free but I could feel that he
was putting pressure on my teeth/gums/root and I could hear all the scraping and
I could see all the blood so that really freaked me out; to distract myself,
I focused on how fat I would become if I put on a kilo every year. How would I
look at 40? At 60? What would be the ideal age to die if I wanted to die before
I got too fat?
Anyway, after such delightful ruminations on the dental chair, I came back
home with a blood soaked mouth and swollen cheeks. As I examined myself in the
mirror, I was horrified to discover that my gums has become completely
misshapen – until Nike pointed out that I was looking at blood soaked cotton! I
took painkillers and antibiotics and slept through the day.
I also mumbled my way through a lot of phone calls from all the friends
and family with whom I had discussed it like what I had undergone was the world’s most
revolutionary surgery. My dad, very touchingly, called me half a
dozen times through the day to see how I was doing. My mother, who had gone
through the same procedure a couple of years ago, was regretfully very cavalier
about it – I’m still thinking of ways to guilt trip her over this.
It was also Cousin M’s birthday so we all went to dinner to Serengeti.
It was an unfortunate choice of restaurant because the food smelled absolutely
divine and made me very hungry. While my entire meal consisted of two pieces
of paneer tikka. I am still drooling at the thought of the chilli olive naan. Though
I suppose I could live much longer before I reached my fat threshold if I ate
so little every day.
The whole post-procedure experience has been pain-free, though there’s
mild discomfort before sleeping and after getting up, I guess when the effect
of the painkillers has worn off. I worked from home on Monday because the
process of dental care was too messy to subject my colleagues to. And I had curd
rice with the yummiest, most delicious and juicy mangoes.
I wanted to watch Ishaqzaade today but decided to postpone it till I am
in a condition where I can eat popcorn during the movie (or fries. I’m not a
big fan of fries but the INOX snack counter at GVK One serves wonderfully fresh
fries, even though in incredulously tiny quantities). So Nike bought me ice apples so I’d have
something soft to eat through my television marathon today evening (Junior
Master Chef, Big Bang Theory, Raising Hope, Scrubs, Amazing Race – I've seen more
television in one day that in the whole of last month!). He also made me cold
coffee because I felt like it. The next time I whine about him, someone please
remind me of what a wonderful, caring, considerate, indulgent person he is, and
then knock me on the head with a club.
I’m off to a painkiller induced sleep right now. You all have a Happy Tuesday!
*I am not including minor injuries such as when my friend stomped on my feet in her heels when we were dancing, leaving it bruised. Or when I accidentally jabbed a sharp pencil on my leg, so hard that it created a deep scratch through my jeans. That would make it look like I'm trying to get sympathy (which is absolutely not what this post is about, no sir!)
