By Mary Anna Violi | @Mary Anna Violi
Seven months into 2015, let us recap my experiences thus far:
January: The periodontist performed bone transfer and tissue replacement on three teeth, or I should say, in the areas of those three former teeth. The aftermath of prescription blue mouthwash and restricted food [read that as all soft food and smoothies, but no straws]. On the upbeat side, I lose weight.
February: A tooth suddenly fractured, a tooth that had never even had a filling. Intense pain sent me back to the periodontist, who performed another bone transfer and tissue replacement procedure. Thus, no crunchy food, blue mouthwash, and biting my tongue and the inside of my cheek reared their heads. Increased weight loss kind of pleased me, but how I wanted to eat a New York Strip steak.
March: I am unceremoniously told the large administrative portion of my job would be eliminated, effective July 1, and that I would get thrust into more advising when I would have preferred more teaching. At least I would still be teaching a bit. Oh, and no one thanked me for my twenty-two years of immense program growth and development. Depression kicks in at being treated as a commodity, and not as a human being. Furthermore, my dear friend and colleague resigned out of frustration and accepted a job in a far-flung, albeit beautiful state.
April: I have to pay the government an enormous sum of money for tapping into my own IRA money. I realized it was not really my money at all, but the government’s for the taking. I decide to update my curriculum vitae and do a systematic job search to help me keep my sanity in a chaotic, toxic, work environment.
May: My beloved cat Fellini dies suddenly of a blood clot. The periodontist’s engineering feats result in three screws being surgically implanted in my mouth. Implant caps to follow, after allowing six months time to heal. Once more I rinse with prescription blue mouthwash that tints my teeth a pale blue. Soft food rules once more. My dental insurance maxed out; it will not kick in until January 2016. The fourth implant is now on hold as I question going through the pain and aftermath again.
June: Coming home from the grocery after work several nights, I lifted four bags of groceries and balanced my purse and keys in my hands. Opening the side door to the garage, I saw the neighbor’s big gray cat, a sweet fellow, looking for his kitty kibble treats. He barreled towards the open door. I had one foot inside the garage, and the other down the lone step. Suffice to say, it was a bad comingling of groceries, door, feet, keys, and cat. The upshot was that I tore the membrane around my knee, which now laid me up for some days. The pain has been mind-boggling. Physical and psychic pain has become the norm the past six months. I have grown weary of pain.
July: Actually, this latest installment began the last week of June, but has forcibly impacted July. Through a series of ill-timed, forced, work events my back went so far out of whack that I am uncertain what the outcome will be. It is beyond a ruptured disc, coupled with several other new egregious back problems. With potent medications, various tests, increased acupuncture, and physician appointments, I feel as if I am trapped in a Cheech and Chong movie from the 1970’s.
Question: Can 2015 improve markedly for me, or am I to be some sort of contemporary Job from the Old Testament? Forgive my self-indulgence, but this has been an aberrant, puzzling year.
Ciao for now.