A Long Day

I should be writing about the wonderful Christmas that just finished, and I likely will another time. But today was absorbed with getting Sam's impacted wisdom teeth removed. I can't say it went well, I can only say that it went.

This ordeal started a few weeks back when his regular dentist asked if it was OK to take a full mouth scan. How do you answer a question like that? Do they think I'm going to say "No"? If it were for me, I probably would, or at least I might haggle about the price. But it's different when it's one of the kids. So, they took the scan and, lo and behold, it showed four impacted wisdom teeth. Like most dentists I guess, they wouldn't remove them. I instead had to bring him to an oral surgeon. This meant checking with my insurance company.

Checking with my insurance company is always an ordeal. I wouldn't mind it as much if I could at least get a consistent answer as to what's covered. Talking to three different people yielded three different answers. I'm pretty sure nothing before the first two thousand dollars is covered, but not to worry- it "gets applied toward his deductible" (as long as it's an in network doctor and I have a referral, etc, etc, etc.), which is another way of saying you're not covered. And even if you were, they definitely will not cover "extras" like anesthesia. He has four impacted wisdom teeth- three that haven't broken through the gums, and the insurance company considers anesthesia an "extra"? Well, you have to play the cards you're dealt- no mater how the deck is stacked. So, we made an appointment at the closest in-network oral surgeon- a mere 40 miles away- not bad if you live in Alaska, which we don't.

Sam and I drove down for the initial consultation last Friday. We got there about a half hour early, which was a good thing since it took all of that to initial, sign and date the reams of policies and disclaimers they handed me. This reminded me of years ago when Helaina was an infant and she had to get her first vaccinations. They made me read and sign paperwork that gave every possible consequence of going through with the vaccination (which is required by law), up to, and including, death. The paperwork I signed off on on Friday left out "death", but that's about all they left out.

After signing off on the papers for half an hour, they made Sam and I watch a "short" video in a room the size of a closet. A small closet. Above the TV screen was a poorly printed out sign that said that taking videos "even with a cell phone" in their office is against their policy,  and is "strictly forbidden". This seemed odd to me. It never would have occurred to me to take a video before reading this sign. Now, even though I had no clue as to why someone would want to, I was wondering why they wouldn't allow it. It made me uncomfortable. I was tempted to take a photo of the sign, but figured this could be too easily misconstrued and while not technically a video, it might get us kicked out. Anyway, all of this went out the window once their video started up.

Their video was done in the same format as the movie they make you watch when you have jury duty. The jury duty video has two actors: one actor plays Knowledgeable Judge, the other plays Ignorant Citizen. Ignorant Citizen asks ignorant questions and the judge politely and calmly scoffs and informs the Citizen. In the version we watched in the Doctor's closet, one actor played Knowledgeable Oral Surgeon, the other actor played Ignorant Patient (i.e.: Us). Otherwise, the format was identical. Basically, the only point of this video seemed to be to reiterate all of the awful things I had just signed off on, except this was presented in a video format. Even more disturbing was that the guy playing the Oral Surgeon is the guy from the Toyota commercials. Is this ethical? They couldn't get an actual doctor to commit to the stuff this guy was saying? Sam sat watching and listening with that frozen grimace he gets when he's stressed out. Even I couldn't find things to make light of in that video. At least they weren't shoving a camera down the patient's mouth.

From there, we met the doctor. He showed us the x-rays Sam's dentist had sent down and talked for a few minutes, but all I, and I'm pretty sure Sam, could think about, was that video.

Next, we went to make the appointment for the removal. I sat down with the bookkeeper to go through yet more paperwork, including once again going over my insurance and what was, or more likely, wasn't covered. This woman was the only non-cheery person in the office. When I told her who I had for insurance, she just rolled her eyes. The first opening they had was for the day after Christmas (today). We left with prescriptions to be filled and taken before his next visit.

Today, we drove down again, making better time than we had last Friday. By the time we got there, Sam was getting pretty groggy from the medication he had taken before we left. We took a seat in the small waiting room- and waited. The time for his appointment came and went, and Sam rested his head on my shoulder as the medicine continued to kick in. More time passed. I had visions of them asking us to come back another time and Sam having to go through this all over again. But finally, they came to get him, and stopped me from following him into the doctor's office. I hadn't expected, nor wanted to watch. But I had expected to be there for him when it came time for him to get the I.V.  I knew he was pretty nervous about this part of it, being all too familiar with I.V.'s from his many MRIs. But they wouldn't let me in. It must be another one of their policies.

Sam was in with the surgeon for about an hour, after which he slept in a chair. Finally, when he was able to at least barely keep his eyes open and he could kind of, sort of, stand, we headed out to the van- me supporting Sam as best as I could. From there it was the 40 mile ride home.

Sam was in a lot of pain this afternoon. He rarely complains about things like this, but when he says things to himself like "I wish I never had this swelling", and dabs his teary eyes with a stuffed animal in a way you're not supposed to notice, you know it's pretty bad for him. And the swelling is much worse than I saw with his sisters, but of course I wouldn't say that to him. Instead I tried to play up the ice cream and Popsicles, for whatever that was worth. And I gave him a game and a stuffed animal that he didn't get for Christmas, as a reward and a distraction. He did great, all things considered. Even the twenty minutes on/ twenty minutes off with the ice packs were taken in stride.

Tonight, about an hour or so before bedtime, Sam got sick to his stomach. This was just to make the day even more grueling for him. He's tired and medicated as much as they'll allow, and now he's finally sleeping.

So, I can't say that it went well today. Hopefully tomorrow I'll be able to.

Merry Christmas From My Desktops...

Another Christmas Eve

Sam has written his annual Christmas Eve letter to Santa, and I'm sad to see that getting his wisdom teeth out is on his mind tonight... tonight of all nights. But I don't blame him. It's on my mind too.

As I write this, Sam has been in bed for a couple of hours now. I'm not sure he's asleep. The others have been upstairs for over an hour. I'm certain they're not asleep. Santa has finally finished crashing around downstairs- first decorating the tree, then putting the presents under it and stuffing and hanging the stockings- before writing a letter back to Sammy and then finally doing the dishes and sitting down to listen to the silence.

As soon as the gremlin(s) quite down upstairs, Santa will head up to leave some candy on the boys' nightstand and on the table in the hall- proof that he had been there and hadn't forgotten them, just like he had done for me a lifetime ago.

It's been requested that Santa not enter the girls room tonight for fear that he may get injured or lost- likely both. Santa, being the wise man that he is, has no intention of going in that room. It's been too long a day and in another five minutes, it will be Christmas. Soon it will be time to start all over again.

Scrooge

I love this movie. I think I have three different versions of "The Christmas Carol" on DVDs around here- actually, four if you count that Mr. Magoo cartoon. This version runs just over an hour and twenty minutes and in my no account opinion, it is by far the best version out there.

The first time I saw this was many, many, many, years ago, in the darkness of my childhood bedroom. I must have been about ten at the time and while it may not have been Christmas eve, it was close. We had a small mini TV that somehow foolishly ended up in my room. I remember watching this late at night with the lights off and the sound turned way down. I don't remember if I was under the blankets while I watched it, but I feel like I should have been. It totally gave me the creeps. It still does. This movie was made for watching in a dark room, late at night. The sharp black and whites, and long, foreboding shadows are perfectly fitted to my idea of the era. There's a colorized version of this, but it doesn't interest me at all.


Nobody looks like a better Scrooge to me than Alastair Sim- from his sneering and arrogant greed at the beginning of the story, through his mounting fear and regret, and finally through his sorrow, joy and redemption at the end.

I'm fully aware that you can see the reflection of a stage hand in the mirror toward the end, but it would take more than that to ruin it for me. Enjoy.

Christmas Shopping

I miss shopping at Ames. Ames was a department store about five miles from our home. It was similar in style to a Target, but in my mind, it was somehow better. It had that "lived in" look. Ames was at one end of a plaza and a grocery store was at the other. Often, on Friday nights, we would stop either on our way to, or our way from, grocery shopping- with a side trip to the news stand that stood in between them. The local Ames store closed years ago when the entire chain went bankrupt. This happened despite a healthy subsidy provided by our family throughout those years. We shopped there all year long, but we shopped there a lot at Christmastime.

Not ours, but close.

I particularly miss Christmas shopping at Ames. I especially miss taking my kids there to pick out Christmas presents for their mom. This adventure usually took place at night, which for some reason, seemed to add to the excitement. We would all bundle up and pile into the freezing cold mini-van for the short, ten to fifteen minute drive. Along the way we would look at Christmas lights and listen to Christmas carols. When we arrived, we would head en masse into the brightly lit store and begin our search. Usually the kids would scour the toys first, studying each one, and dreaming about what they hoped they might get for Christmas. Eventually, we would wander over to the Jewelery and Women's Department.

Everything in those departments was scrutinized as well. Sometimes the perfect gift was found right away, but more often than not, it took a lot of searching to find just the right thing. Sometimes a large, sparkly broach would be selected. Sometimes it would be a necklace made of over-sized, brightly colored beads. Often the perfect gift would be a sweater- the more festive, the better. The best sweaters had scenes on them: dancing reindeer or Santas, Christmas trees with over-sized ornaments hanging from the branches and brightly wrapped presents underneath, fuzzy snowflakes of various sizes falling around a colorful village scene- each sweater reflected the joy of the holiday season in it's own subtle way.

Once everyone had picked out their gift, we would head to the front registers- the kids skipping and giggling as if they had just found some buried treasure and they were now struggling to keep it a secret- which in a way, I guess was true. From there, we would head back out to the freezing cold van to drive home- going "the scenic route" so we could take in more Christmas lights and Christmas music and talk about the perfect presents they had just picked out.

The best thing about the whole adventure was their excitement- not only in having found the perfect gift, but their excitement in wrapping their gifts, and putting those hidden treasures under the tree and then watching with pride as each of their presents were opened.

The whole adventure was a lot of fun- at least as much for me as it was for the kids. Probably more. Boy, I sure miss that store.

A New Family Tradition

For the first time in I don't know how long, the whole family was together last night. And since it is so close to Christmas, what better way to take advantage of  the time together than doing a little shopping and having a movie night!

So, Helaina, Rachael, Jake and I made a quick stop at the grocery store and then off to the liquor store to enjoy the bright lights and shiny bottles. Then it was back home, where we dimmed the lights and gathered around the TV to watch that feel-good holiday classic, "Drive".  Within minutes, we were all under the spell of that old Hollywood magic- where we were whisked off to a simpler, happier time- and strapped into that sentimental roller coaster some call "Love".

We laughed together. We cried together. And in the end, lessons were learned- lessons about love, about life... and about the true meaning of Christmas!

Yes, it's moments like these that really brings a family together.

Another Change of Pace

Dental Update

The sharp pain coming from my upper rear molar has now turned into a dull, throbbing ache. I'm taking this as a positive sign.

Things I Miss

I miss hearing violin music in the house.
I miss hearing trumpet music in the house.
And I wish I heard more singing around the house.

Mimi

When Jake was a toddler, his word for snowman was "mimi". I'm not sure what this has to do with anything, but it's another one of those things I think about.

Priority Mail

I ordered a Christmas gift for one of my kids and somehow, instead of it being delivered to me here in sunny New England, the tracking number I was given shows it's "Out For Delivery" somewhere in a town called Sitka, Alaska. Not to worry though, I generated driving directions in case I need to go pick it up. Luckily it's a short 3,878 mile one way trip.

A Near Miss

Stories From My Youth

When I was young, my hometown would occasionally hold a small annual carnival. This carnival was held in the parking lot of the local high school and it consisted of only the rides they could cram onto that small space- no concessions, no formal midway, just a bunch of rides in a crazy-quilt pattern determined by the least amount of space necessary to move around them.

I never had much use for this fair. It involved going outside. It involved dealing with people, many people in fact- to the point of having to deal with a mob, all jammed into this haphazard mess. This also meant that it potentially required some amount of socialization. None of this held any appeal to me. So, every year when this carnival came around I would barely notice, if I noticed at all- preferring instead the comfort of my own home. That is, until the summer after my junior year of high school.

That summer, on a Saturday night, I was somehow dragged to one of these fairs by a friend now long forgotten. I don’t remember much about that night other than the lights and the noise. And the girls. The girls made up for everything else. How did my friend meet these strange, intriguing creatures we were now socializing with? To this day, it’s still a mystery to me. But it was better not to ask questions that night, and instead just enjoy the moment- which I did until well into the night.

I remember heading home late, much later than I normally would, which, as I mentioned, happened almost never. And I remember being on top of the world. I remember walking into the darkness of my parents bedroom, which was lit only by the glow of their TV set. And what I remember most was being lit into by Dad. Anybody who knew Dad might question that this actually happened, being as it was so contrary to his nature. But believe me, it did. I was met with an onslaught of overly personal questions such as, “Where was I?” and “Why didn’t I call?”. Naturally, I took great offense at this, as I would if it happened today. What was the matter with him? I hardly ever did something like this. Clearly, CLEARLY, he was against me having fun. I didn’t deserve to be treated this way! Couldn’t he see I was an Adult?

Refusing to be treated like a child, I turned and stomped away, declaring they had seen the last of me and that I was leaving and never coming back! I muttered off into the darkness of our backyard where I perched myself behind my mother’s garden wall... and I stewed. I’ll show them, I thought. I don’t need them... until finally, after a couple of hours- when my brain couldn’t hold any more of my justifiable self-righteousness, I decided it was time to sneak back into the house and get a good night’s sleep. There would be plenty of time to plot my independence tomorrow.

When I got to my room, there was a note from Dad left on my bed. I’m not sure how he knew I would be back, but there it was. He was apologizing for having blown up at me but he explained that it was out of love and concern. He was more eloquent than that, but that was the gist of it. I felt awful (and still do). I had screwed up big time.

The next day, I was walking down the stairs as Mom was vacuuming at the landing. I stopped and looked up at her through the balusters as she stared silently at the floor, silently away from me. I apologized for the night before, for hurting her and for being a jerk (or something that added up to the same thing). Mom acknowledged the apology, saying something that I don’t remember. But I remember there being tears in her eyes. And I obviously still carry a part of this with me, even though it was so long ago.

I’ve thought of this many times over the years, about how you can go from such a high to such a low in the blink of an eye. I've thought about how how you can so easily hurt the people you love with unintentional thoughtlessness. I’ve thought about what things were like from my perspective, and what things were like from Mom and Dad’s perspective. And as I’ve gotten older, the intensity of both perspectives has hardly changed at all- except that maybe there have been more layers added to it, along with an even deeper understanding of where my parents were coming from.

I’m not far from the age my parents were then, but I can still remember the excitement I felt that night coming home from the fair. And if I’ve learned anything from this over the years, it’s this: Stay away from girls. They'll only get you in trouble.

Holiday Rush

Photo courtesy of Helaina

We got our Christmas tree last minute this year- not last minute meaning right before Christmas, but last minute meaning within hours after discussing when we were going to get our tree. This has to be the fastest turnaround for us ever- from the time the decision was made to get the tree, to finishing up the decorating and getting Jake back to school couldn’t have been more than four or five hours- tops. It kind of had the quality of a movie being fast forwarded through the whole thing- running through the fog at the tree farm, hacking down trees, rushing it home and into the house and throwing ornaments and tinsel on it, all before jumping back into the car to get Jake back to school. And while I would have preferred it to last longer, when it comes to spending time time together, I definitely prefer quality over quantity- though I like it when it’s both.

Another photo courtesy of Helaina

Change of Pace

 Some people don't like this song, but I do. I especially like this take.