Just Ask Ida

Conscious Sedation

Well, I had my wisdom tooth out this week, and lived to tell the tale. Heck, it wasn’t even that big a deal. But man, I totally made the right decision goin’ with Dr. Richards instead of the rock star. (If you don’t know what I’m talkin’ about, check out last week’s blog.)

‘Course it was a big week, what with all the prep. Cleaned the house to within an inch of it’s life, (you know, in case I died during the operation). Then I had to lay in provisions: comfort food, soft and smooth for easy eatin’ with a sore mouth. I made a macaroni and cheese casserole and a batch of squash soup. I whipped together a bread puddin’, too. (You know, strictly for medicinal purposes.) And I confess, there may have been ice cream on hand as well.

To be honest, I was less nervous about havin’ my tooth out than getting a crown. With a crown, no matter how much Novocaine they give you, you can still hear and smell the drill, and feel the vibration of it grindin’ away. Ug! I’m always convinced that at any moment, they’ll hit a nerve and I’ll jump through the roof. The potential of pain just plumb wears me out.

But with my wisdom tooth, Dr. Richards was using my best friend and yours, conscious sedation. Ah, the wonders of modern science! My biggest worry? Getting a caffeine headache, ‘cause my operation wasn’t until late mornin’ and I couldn’t have my usual coffee first thing.

Charlie was my “responsible adult” for the day, drivin’ me to Dr. Richards’ office in Bangor. The place was just like I remembered it, friendly and calm. I barely have to wait five minutes before they usher me out back. I settle into the chair, and they attach little heart monitors to various places on my body. Dr. Richards comes in, shakes my hand, asks how I’m doin’.

Then they put this pink rubbery thing over my nose. It’s for the oxygen, but from my perspective it looks kinda like a pig nose. Oh my God, I’m thinkin’, don’t let me die with this pig nose on! Then they start the laughin’ gas to relax me. At first, nothin’ happens. Then all of sudden, I feel all dreamy, and everyone in the room seems far, far away. I still got that pig nose on, but I’m OK with it.

Then the doc puts a tourniquet on my arm and looks for a vein. When he finds one he likes, he says, “Ida, you’re going to feel a little prick.” I do, and I think, Wow! That really hurt, but I don’t care!”

A second later, it’s all done. Charlie’s hand is on my knee, and he’s talkin’ to me. I’m a little woozy, of course, but five, ten minutes later, we’re good to go.

“Charlie,” I says, on our way outta town. “Stop by Dunkin Donuts. I need a coffee somethin’ fierce!”

“Ida, the nurse said nothin’ too hot in the beginning.”

“Fine, I’ll have ‘em cool it down with an ice cube.”

Next, we swing by Wendy’s, where I order a Frosty, and Charlie the Baconator and fries.

When we get back to the ranch, I go down for a nap, but by supper, I’m feelin’ pretty much myself. Unlike Charlie with his colonoscopy awhile back. That conscious sedation throws him for a loop. If he’s not feelin’ nauseous, he’s singing Kumbaya.

I take it easy the rest of the day, of course, but I went back to work the next day. Easy, peazy!

In a month or so, I have to have a crown put on that tooth in front of where my wisdom tooth was. That’s what started this whole thing. Sad to say, no conscious sedation for that. But I’m telling my dentist the same thing my sister Irene does when she has to have anything done in her mouth: “Doc, just so you know, I want to be numb from the bust up!”

That’s it for now. Catch you on the flip side!

IDA'S PODCAST: Conscious Sedation

Comin’ up:
March 6: Reading -- Scarborough Public Library, 6:30pm
March 8: Reading -- Woodfords Club, Portland, 7:00pm
March 14: Reading -- Eliot Senior Citizens, Eliot, 11:30am 
April 11: Reading -- Auburn Public Library, 6:00pm
April 12: Reading -- Cancer Community Center, South Portland,
6:00pm
April 16: Reading -- Bangor Public Library, 2:00pm
Reading -- Dirigo Pines, Orono, 7:15pm
May 4: The Moose in Me, The Moose in You!
to benefit the Friends of the South Berwick Library, South Berwick, 
7:30pm
May 9: Author Visit, Forest Hills Elementary, Jackman 

For more information on upcoming appearances, visit my website: idaswebsite.com

If you’d like me to do a reading at your library, organization or what not, please don’t hesitate to drop me a line:
[email protected]
And if your book group wants to read Finding Your Inner Moose, I’d love to be part of the discussion. Especially if food’s involved!

Older and Wiser

I got to have one of my wisdom teeth out. I know, why didn’t I have this done when I was a kid, and my parents would have paid for it, right? But no. Apparently I have a big mouth (no surprise there), and when I was a young whipper snapper, back in the early Paleozoic, all four wisdom teeth come in handy. You know, for masticatin’ prehistoric rodents and what not.

Kicker is, there’s nothin’ wrong with that tooth. Really! I have to have it out ‘cause I lost some of the fillin’ from the tooth in front of it, and now that tooth needs a crown. I guess that’s easier done if that wisdom tooth is outta the way. And what they’re tellin’ me is, if I don’t have it out now, and they have to do it later, that could ding up my swanky new crown.

There you have it, folks. Welcome to middle-age. A surprise-filled time in your life where the tooth fillin’s you had in your teens and twenties, then replaced in your late thirties, early forties, are now disintegrating at an alarmin’ rate.

You’ve been there, I’m sure. Minding your own business, eating a ham sandwich, when all of a sudden, you’re aware of something crunchy. What the heck, you’re thinkin’, as you spit out the offending bit into your hand. You don your readin’ glasses, and there’s that tell-tale gleam of silver. Cha-ching! You can bet your bippy there’s not enough tooth left to fill. So what are you lookin’ at? Twelve hundred bucks for a shiny new crown that makes all the rest of your teeth look kind of shabby.

My dentist, “Dr. D” I call him, recommended an oral surgeon in Bangor to do the deed. So off I go for a consultation. My appointment is at 2:00, the first one after lunch. I arrive at quarter of, and swear to God, there’s no less than twenty people in that waiting room. It’s standing room only!

“Make yourself comfortable,” says the receptionist. Are you kiddin’ me? I’m thinkin’. What do you want me to do? Sit on the floor?

About twenty minutes, a half hour later, I’m ushered into the inner sanctum, room after room with dentist chairs all occupied, which is alarming ‘cause there’s only one surgeon, there. We get to my room, and the assistant begins askin’ me a barrage of questions, all without ever lookin’ me in the eye. You know, the personal touch.

I can hear the surgeon down the hall. He’s got this big, boomy voice, yuckin’ it up with the staff, the other patients, soundin’ pretty full of himself. Finally, he breezes in. “How you doin’, hon?”

I’m thinkin’. Hon? Really? I try tellin’ him my concerns, but he’s too busy jokin’ around to hear me. Says his “girl” will do an x-ray and he’ll be back. Then he swaggers off to another patient.

Clearly, this guy thinks he’s some kind of rock star. “Look at me! I can handle all twenty of these people in one afternoon, all by myself.” And they got the sound system so loud, you half expect him to pull out a mic and break into song! It’s like a friggin’ factory, this place. Let me tell you, I pay the $60 consultation fee, and run for the door. Couldn’t get outta there fast enough. I drive home and call Dr. D.

I get Pam, Dr. D’s receptionist. I didn’t realize how upset I was ‘til I started talkin’. “Dr. D. is a nice guy with a nice practice. What’s he doin’ recommending this rock star? He’s the complete opposite of Dr. D. They’re just not compatible. If he wants me to have this tooth out, I’m gonna need a recommendation for another surgeon.”

Well, later that day, Dr. D himself calls me, which I thought was a nice touch. He knew I was upset. So I bring him up to speed.

He goes, “I hear you, Ida. He’s probably not for everybody. Some folks like him because he’s quick.”

“Too quick for me,” I says.

“I totally understand. I’ll have Pam give you the contact number for another surgeon. I think you’ll really like him.”

I have to wait a couple of weeks for an appointment, but right away I can tell I’m in good hands. When I walk in the door, there’s only one party ahead of me. The place feels relaxed and cozy, and the staff is all friendly. The assistant introduces herself and apologizes to me for havin’ to wait five minutes as she takes me into the exam room.

I only wait a few minutes before the surgeon comes in (no discernable swagger). Looks me right in the eye, shakes my hand. “I’m Dave, Dave Richards.” Dr. Richards is a good listener. He hears my concerns and addresses them in a patient, gentle manner. He takes my info down. Then he personally does the x-ray and ushers me into his office to explain the procedure. Finally, he turns me over to “Maggie, who’ll do the estimate” and shakes my hand again. Says it was nice meeting me. Couldn’t believe it! My surgery is next week. I’ll keep you posted.

Thing is, ten, fifteen years ago, I would have gone with that first surgeon. You know, thinkin’ twenty people waitin’ in line means this guy’s probably the best in town. I just wouldn’t have spoken up. But the older I get, the less tolerance I have for that sort of crap. My feeling is, if you don’t like your doctor or dentist or whatever, shop around. There are plenty of really wonderful, carin’ medical folks out there, folks who choose to practice medicine, not run a factory. There’s no need to settle. Pay the $60 for that consult and move on. It’s money well spent, as far as I’m concerned. Heck, if you’re gonna shell out a bundle anyway for one of these delightful little middle-aged health surprises, you might as well make it as pleasant as you can, right?

That’s it for now. Catch you on the flip side!

IDA'S PODCAST: Older and Wiser

Comin’ up:
March 6: Reading -- Scarborough Public Library, 6:30pm
March 8: Reading -- Woodfords Club, Portland, 7:00pm
April 11: Reading -- Auburn Public Library, 6:00pm
April 12: Reading -- Cancer Community Center, South Portland,
6:00pm
April 16: Reading ---Bangor Public Library, 2:00pm
Reading -- Dirigo Pines, Orono, 7:15pm
May 4: The Moose in Me, The Moose in You!
to benefit the Friends of the South Berwick Library,
7:30pm, South Berwick, ME
May 9: Author Visit, Forest Hills Elementary, Jackman, ME

If you’d like me to do a reading at your library, organization or what not, please don’t hesitate to drop me a line:
[email protected]
And if your book group wants to read Finding Your Inner Moose, I’d love to be part of the discussion. Especially if food’s involved!

Pioneers of Love

OK, so I’m sittin’ in this outhouse at my niece Caitlin’s, freezin’ my you-know-what off, watchin’ my breath, trying to relax enough to do my business and get outta there, thinkin’, I am not a pioneer. I don’t want to be a pioneer. I thank God every day I was born now, so I don’t have to be a pioneer.

See, last weekend, my niece Caitlin and her boyfriend Adam had Charlie and me and her parents (my sister Irene and husband Jimbo) over for brunch. The kids are livin’ in a winter rental up on Moose Megantic Lake, this tiny cabin heated only by a wood stove. Beautiful location, don’t get me wrong, but it’s a little rustic for my taste. Three miles in on a dirt road. I don’t think so!

Caitlin’s still workin’ down to Mahoosuc Health Food, doing a little Feng Shui consultin’ on the side. Even teachin’ a class in Feng Shui down to Adult Ed. Plus, she’s part of what she calls an “art collective.” Don’t know what that is, exactly. They have a storefront downtown with a little gallery. Right now, Caitlin’s doin’ these little paintings of broken pottery. Jury’s still out (and frankly, I never thought I’d say this), but I’m kind of missin’ that series she did with them marshmallow Peeps.

I can hear Adam whistling away as he’s haulin’ in wood for the stove, happy as a clam. Adam picks up hours at the Mahoosuc Health Food, too, and works part-time in a music store down to Bangor. Plus, he’s always in one band or another. The one he’s in now is called Who Goosed the Moose, somethin’ like that. He plays bass, I think, and Caitlin says he’s pretty good on the kazoo, too. Did I tell you they met at our yard sale a few years back? Tickles me to think about it, the two of ‘em with matchin’ nose rings, flirtin’ up a storm.

Anyways, we’re all crammed into this little cabin, eatin’ vegetable frittata (delicious), banana bread (let me say, if you’re not used to whole wheat flour, it can kind of overwhelm) and exotic fruit salad with mangos and kiwis and, well, a couple of other things I have never seen down to the A&P. And the coffee was out of this world. ‘Cause if kids these days know one thing, it’s coffee, served with some kind of frothed-up milk. After half a cup, all of us were talkin’ a mile a minute!

I says to Caitlin, “I’m probably not going to sleep until Tuesday, but damn, this coffee’s good!”

The payback for all that good java, or course, was a trip to the outhouse. Just when I was getting’ comfortable. On with the coat, the boots, the hat, the gloves…

Anyhoo, business accomplished, I carefully make my way back down the path to the cabin, hopin’ I don’t fall and break a hip. I come inside in time to see Adam presenting Caitlin with a little sprig from a fur tree. “For my sweetie,” he says, and Caitlin’s face lights up like it’s a bouquet of roses. They exchange a little kiss, and Adam’s hand lingers on the small of her back as she turns to froth up some more milk.

On the way home, I says to Charlie, “Remember when we were first married, livin’ in that tiny apartment over Mrs. Nadeau’s?”

“Sure, how could I forget? Wakin’ up to all them loggin’ trucks rumbling by.”

“Well, we were just startin’ out. Remember that one week, I went to Bangor and saw that blue dress I just had to have for Dottie’s weddin’? And budget be damned, I bought it?”

Charlie shakes his head. “Which left us about fifteen bucks ‘til the next paycheck a couple of weeks away.”

“Oh, I’d never do somethin’ like that now. But I was so excited about the dress. I just loved it!”

“I still remember you standin’ in the doorway in that blue dress. Not too shabby.”

“But I felt bad, Charlie, ‘cause I shouldn’t have bought it. But all you said was, “It’s a good thing I like canned beans so much.” And you smiled, and I loved you so much right then.”

“And we ate canned beans and tuna fish.”

“When we got sick of that, we went to dinner at my parents’ place and yours. But come the weddin’, I felt so pretty in that dress.”

“Ida, you looked better than Dottie, and it was her weddin’.”

And Charlie and me smile and hold hands all the way home to our cozy double-wide with the furnace humming, a bathroom down the hall and little Scamp crazy to see us as we pull in the drive.

Happy Valentine’s Day, folks!

That’s it for now. Catch you on the flip side!

IDA'S PODCAST: Pioneers of Love

Comin’ up this week:

February 15-17
I Married an Alien!
Garrison Players
Friday & Saturday @ 8:00 p.m.
Sunday @ 3:00 p.m.
603-750-4278
http://www.garrisonplayers.org/events.php
Rollinsford, NH

If you’d like me to do a reading at your library, organization or what not, please don’t hesitate to drop me a line:
[email protected]
And if your book group wants to read Finding Your Inner Moose, I’d love to be part of the discussion. Especially if food’s involved!