Mental rambles

Diabetes is a problem in my family.
I recently found myself talking about my health and diet in that regard.
It’s not too bad.
I used to have a sweet tooth when I was younger, but I suspect that it was one of the ones I lost in idiot fights or accidents.
Before that though, my Mum used to treat me with Sugar sandwiches.
Yes they were exactly what they sound like:
Soft white bread, loads of margarine and about half and inch thick with white sugar.
The sugar used to pour out if you didn't keep it level as you ate.
My teeth are aching at the memory.

About two months ago I visited my local GP because the inside of my cheek had been bleeding.
The bleeding had stopped but an obvious lump had formed.
I suppose everyone thinks the same thing when lumps appear.
The Doctor referred me to the Maxillofacial dept. in the nearest hospital.
I went this morning, after dropping my daughter at school and got there just in time for my 9.20am appointment.
I was seen quite quickly and sent down to the x-ray dept.
The girl doing the x-rays asked me to remove all metal from around my head and neck area. I told her about the metal posts in four of my teeth but she said that they’d be fine.
After the x-ray I was sent back to the Maxillofacial dept. for a physical examination.
It’s very weird to have someone feeling around the inside of your mouth.
Weirder when the Dr called in his supervisor and she did the same thing.
They were pleased to announce that I’d simply developed a calcium stone in one of my salivary glands.
The bleeding was caused when the stone had torn through the saliva duct and the lump was simply the subsequent scarring.
They couldn't cut it away without damaging the still functioning saliva duct and gland.
It’s not very noticeable and I’m sure I’ll stop feeling it over time.

My fifteen-year-old daughter’s got a boyfriend.
Not one of her ‘I really like him, he’s so dreamy’ boyfriends but a real one.
They’ve been seeing each other for several months now and they are obviously serious about each other.
A year ago I would have hated it.
Now… Not so much.
I’m just grateful that he seems like a nice boy.

My eldest is nearly 16 and as you’d expect a teenage girl to be nowadays.
There were tears and I hate you’s.
In her defence, she had to have a total of four injections: Two in one arm, one in her other arm and one in her bottom.
She stormed out of the nurse’s office and went home without the rest of us.
She greeted us at the door when we got home and had managed to calm herself down.
I wasn’t angry.
Injections are horrible.

My six-year-old girl came in to the nurse’s office after her little brother.
My wife took the boy and my little girl sat on my still warm lap.
“Will it hurt?” she asked me.
“A little.” I replied honestly.
She buried her face in my chest as the first needle went in.
Tears welled up but she didn’t make a noise.
The second injection didn’t seem so bad and she even managed a small smile.
She’s a much braver soul than me.

I took my youngest in to the nurse’s office first, while my wife waited outside with the girls.
I let him see me have two injections while he sat on my lap and we laughed and joked as I told him I didn’t feel a thing.
When his turn came, he continued to sit on my lap. He was brave and smiling and took the first injection bravely.
It did hurt.
I’d lied to him.
He cried.
I felt awful.
Still, he needed a second injection and although tearful, he took it.
I was proud of him.

Another penalty of foreign holidays is the dreaded inoculations.
For some ridiculous reason the various injections had to be carried out over several days.
I didn’t organise it very well as I was nervous about the children seeing each other’s reactions.

I took my wife out for a meal on Saturday night.
There was no particular reason; I just thought we deserved it.
My parents looked after our youngest two children and my teenage daughter was allowed a few hours alone in the house with her boyfriend.
Regardless of her teenage tantrums, I do love and trust her.
It was really nice evening and a much needed treat for my wife.

My youngest daughter was practically bouncing as we walked the short distance to the piano teacher’s house.
We were greeted at the door and escorted into the music room.
Looking tiny, she sat down at the enormous grand piano.
A piano that took up the entire space.
The lesson was simple.
Timing, rolls and scales.
My little girl grinned throughout the entire half an hour. Her eyes as big as I’ve ever seen them.
I was allowed to stay and watch and truly enjoyed the end of the lesson where they actually played ‘Fur Elise’ together.
My little girl wasn’t the only one bouncing on the walk home.

My entire family is going away in about a month for a foreign holiday.
The only problem is that it’ll be the first time that our three-year-old dog can’t come with us.
My wife’s mother and brother are unable/incapable of looking after her but I’m loath to put her into a kennel.
A local woman was recommended to me and I arranged to meet her very early on Saturday morning at the rugby club.
She turned up with four dogs but I was surprised to see her limping while we walked.
I was privately concerned but she managed an hours walk without complaint.
I asked her what had happened to her knee and she simply gestured to the dogs.
Apparently a large dog had charged into her, smashing her knee and breaking her other foot.
I was quite impressed with the surgeons who’d somehow managed to replace her entire knee joint while retaining her original kneecap.
More importantly, she was a woman who obviously loved dogs and had chosen her job to suit her nature.
I’ll walk with her a few more times to let my dog get to know her, but as far as I’m concerned, the jobs hers.