Post 321: Clean Teeth and Travel Frustrations.
He said my teeth were good, unchanged, and to see him again in six months.
I’ve kept up with his advice on how to keep my teeth forever, even though he knows my situation regarding my health. The smile on my dentist’s face is one of understanding and care.
My check-up was done for another six months, and I always find myself wondering how many checks I have left to go. I know I shouldn’t think like that, but when I’m sitting there with my powder-pink notepad, updating my medication list and preferences again, I can’t help but wonder if it’s all a bit of a waste of time or not.
Time will tell.
I hadn’t had breakfast this morning before dropping my Darling off in town for her usual meet. So when I got home from the dentist I grabbed one of those blackening bananas you have to cut up in a bowl rather than eat in your hand because it’s too soft. I added a handful of grapes and a blueberry yoghurt for a healthy start to the day, even if it was midday already.
The phone rattled and squeaked in my hand. As the location was Manchester, I was half tempted to leave it to ring out, but for some reason I sensed it wasn’t a cold call. So I swiped right and quietly said hello.
After a few clicks, a brightly spoken lady introduced herself and said she was returning a call from “Disability Holidays”, whom I had emailed about a Northumbrian stay in the Kielder Forest at the end of the month.
She surprised me but soon explained how things worked with the company, and in particular about my request for a profiling bed during the proposed stay. She finished by saying that everything would be explained in an email she’d send later — which she did.
What a nice surprise that was. I get so many calls from solar panel servicing companies that I rarely take a chance with unknown numbers. But there you go — it’s good to talk sometimes.
Big Sis texted just after one to say she was setting off in the car on her way to see me.
Her usual visit to check how I am and to chaperone me while my Darling meets the girls for a well-earned lunch.
She had weighed in earlier and had tipped the scales exactly the same as two weeks ago, before our holiday — away to that amazing breakfast bar. Under the circumstances that is amazing and shows how disciplined she can be.
If you’re asking, I did weigh myself today— it being a Friday — and my weight is now a lowly twelve stone dead. This is a little perplexing considering the hotel stay with that breakfast bar, cava and such, but as that’s eight pounds less than last time — I’ll check again in a week just in case.
I’ve never worried about my weight before, but these days, when I’m not needing to lose anything, it’s best to keep an eye on it.
Big Sis arrived with a bag of goodies for me, some cut daffs for the house, and a wet cardigan thanks to the horrible cold drizzle falling out of the grey sky that surrounds us down south.
She soon began telling stories of her hubby’s antics with a small surgical procedure to remove a rather inconvenient wart on his hand, along with the parking fiasco in the hospital car park — even though it was a Sunday when they went.
There had been trouble walking this way and that trying to find the clinic, and not a worker in sight to help them on their quest. It wasn’t quite the Holy Grail they were searching for, but it certainly took the shine off thier day.
Meanwhile I made and ate a healthy cheese and rabbit-food roll while waiting for her to finish regaling the story and letting off steam.
In the goodie bag today there were sherbet dabs and broccoli crisps, fruit chewing gums, and Fry’s Delight chocolate bars to name but a few.
In fact, one of the Fry’s bars didn’t make it to the cupboard without my interference — much to my dentist’s anxiety, if he had been there.
Luckily he wasn’t.
And a Fry’s chocolate treat was my balance to an otherwise healthy lunch.
Well done Sis. I loved it.
The lighter evenings stretching across the afternoon confused us slightly, even though my Darling had returned victorious over the scales earlier in the day.
Before we knew it, it was already 5:30pm by the time Big Sis gathered up the pink lilies and Easter chocolates I had bought her at the supermarket earlier. It’s nice to give something back, even if it feels a little unusual.
The evening was marred by another win by the Irish rugby team playing on the TV — I jest.
During a break in the ruckus we discussed the two holiday emails we had received.
Yes — another email had come from the travel agents in town, clearly noting the one and only holiday that was possible using the new criteria (the profiling bed).
So we checked Google Earth, the hotel website, and read the blurb, but it fell short for a few reasons. Mainly there was no balcony — not even a small one. Even though it was only three blocks inland from where we stayed before, it simply wasn’t good enough.
Strike one.
Then we talked about the merits of a Kielder Forest cabin with a profiling bed.
This should have been an easy “yes”, but it wasn’t.
It wasn’t just the hour-and-a-half trip one way to visit the kids. It was more the uncertainty of their work commitments and the unfavourable weather we might get that far north, close to the borders.
In the end my Darling was dying on her feet and ready for bed, and the decision was made.
Considering my health and the seven-and-a-half-hour journey north, warmer weather would need to be a factor before we head up to the huge forest and reservoir.
Time for bed (Said Zebedee)
Good night.
PS
The returned emails politely refused the help given, but I did suggest Exeter as a new destination for the end of the month.
We’ll see soon if that has legs.
At least it’s the opposite direction to Trump’s oil war.
