As my world operates solely by Murphy’s Law, my dog chewed up my mouth splint on Monday. I wear it to bed so that I don’t clench my jaw and grind my teeth, which is part of the reason why my jaw pops out regularly. And, as I have been having such jaw trouble recently, Sammy decided this was the perfect time to destroy my splint and along with it, a frightening amount of money, not to mention the increased pain I have to endure from sleeping without it.
My splint has lived beside my bed for years and never interested him before. Apparently, dogs chewing these up is a thing that happens all the time.
Now I know.
I’ve come around to seeing the humorous side, but the incident was completely shattering at the time. I have to wait a few weeks to see my jaw doctor (because, of course he’s on holidays), I’m just hoping that I can manage the issue in the meantime.
The painful knee that I mentioned turned out to be an indicating type of pain. It was indicating that the entire left side of my body was out of whack. I expect this was just the result of the jaw having been out for too long.
When my body gets twisted like this, I can go downhill very quickly. This made a trip to the doctor yesterday much more difficult than it needed to be.
I was having a pretty good morning. I was feeling brighter, a little hopeful, motivated enough to put some make up on and leave the house like a real person. I went back to the optometrist and had my eyes retested, which I had been needing to do for over a week. My reading glasses were too strong, I’m now waiting for a new prescription that will hopefully allow me to enjoy books as much as I did when my eyes worked better.
I was feeling proud that I’d achieved something, that I’d made a step toward improving my situation. Next stop, doctor appointment for simple repeat prescription. Well, it should have been simple.
Instead, I was told that whoever took my phone call the day before had booked my appointment 6 days after the day that we discussed. Somehow, “tomorrow” became “next Tuesday” for them. I made it clear that I understood there had been a mistake and I was quite happy to come back the next day. I was told that as I just needed a prescription, the doctor would squeeze me in in 15mins.
Hurrah, I thought, that’s great luck, I thought.
An hour later, I was still in the waiting room. I was still shifting about from hip to hip, from standing to sitting to pacing the room. I was still expecting the doctor to call me any moment and still avoiding getting upset at the mix up.
A different receptionist then came over to ask what I was doing in the room at all. After an hour. I was then told that the first receptionist didn’t log my arrival and so nobody knew I was there. She had helpfully gone on a break and not bothered to ensure her job was done properly first.
I was told I was next on the list and the doctor would be with me shortly. Apparently “shortly” is receptionist speak for another 20-30mins, by which point I could not sit down, could barely swing my left leg and was wondering how on Earth I was even going to get home again.
I was done. I completely cracked it. I could not hold onto sanity anymore and just saw red. It seemed so unfair. Everybody else at the clinic that day got to go into their appointments, it seemed so utterly crap that it was my paperwork that was messed up and that it ended up resulting in me going from mobile to completely incapable of walking alone.
I ended up telling her off and was more angry than I would like to get at people. I realise she just made a mistake, however this is not the first time I have run into such errors at this clinic, simply trying to get a prescription for painkillers that the government won’t allow me to have repeats on.
It was all a bit too much. I still needed to get groceries and had to call my Mum to come and help me. I was lucky she was home, because otherwise I would have just had to come home empty handed, sad and hungry.
I was feeling totally dejected. My good mood of one wake up, after months of waking to sobs, had just been smashed against the rocks.
But, the Universe had one more little surprise for me…
As soon as I got home, I called my Osteo’s office and asked to be wait-listed for an appointment ASAP. Luck finally found me about 15mins later when they called back and told me there had been a cancellation straight away.
An Osteo session is the quickest way for me to get a lopsided body back on the track to healing. I’m almost always sore afterward, but then experience my body righting itself over the next 24 hours.
Yesterday’s session has meant that I’m able to move around a bit today. I’m still very sore, but I can control both of my legs and stand when I need to…and that’s actually a big deal in my life.
I’m hanging on to a little bit of happy today. It helps that I haven’t needed to go anywhere. I’m still in a lot of pain but I’ve been able to keep my head on straight, despite it telling me at regular intervals that today is the last day of my 20s and I’m wasting it (and my whole life).
Love & Surviving Mishaps,