Can I Buy A Vowel?

Hey, there!
How's my peeps?!
I be still here!

I've been doing some reflecting, and it's mostly good. Seems to me there are times when a bloggist has to do some recharging. I would imagine that for some of you, it's pretty obvious when that is. For me, I just started foundering around and wasn't making much sense to myself. What was I painting? Why was I doing that? Where's the book I was reading? Why am I impatient? I thought I already took that pill?

After a while of this, I decided to just take a break. Frankly, I may still be on it. As you may remember, I am revamping my studio. This is happening slower than molasses in a cold month. (In the case of L.A., June.) And as I've been unearthing items from that room and discovering print-outs of past blogs I've written, I thought I'd get in touch.




I interrupt this long and winding monologue with a question: Have you read this book? Don't even front with me. If you haven't read it, hie thee hither. If you have read it, am I kidding? No. It's a stunner. It's like one of those mille feuilles that you get at a bakery in Paris, and you say, with cream all over your mouth, when the hell am I going to stop finding a new layer?


Now, back to the Year of the Unending Monologue. Because I'm still dwelling in the life of the mind, or in my case, taking a long nap, I wanted to share with you a bit of past writing. Yes, this is not my first blog. To be specific, it's my third. You may say to yourself, 'This is not my beautiful house! This is not my beautiful wife!'

hold on...


What I mean is, I wrote two blogs prior to this one. But when they found out about them, I had to stop. Luckily, no one's found out about this one yet.


Anyway, where were you? Oh, yes. You were about to read an excerpt du moi. This was written before I discovered Le Scrapbooking of le Family Heritage, which started this whole 'artsy expression' thing. This was back when I used to use a lot of words in my blog. Not like now.


I felt, because I had been gone from Prism Trail! for so long, and because so many of you so generously continued to comment to me, which comments I love profoundly, that it would only be write (hahAAHA!! get it?) to get in touch and share a bit, while I continue to rev my engines. So, with no further ado:


Woman of Letters

Lately, I’ve been experiencing some jaw pain. Actually, it’s been going on for a few weeks, now, and I thought that maybe it was just a bruise or that I had slept weird on the side of my face, or maybe that I talked too much and needed to rest my mouth, as many people have advised.

(Although that is clearly the least likely possibility.)

I’ve been waiting quite awhile for this soreness to go away. Besides the soreness, it’s also difficult to chew, and I can’t open my mouth very far. I really don’t know what happened, but it had been going on long enough. So, I went to the dentist, and she took X-rays and gave me a check-up and she said,

“Well, there’s nothing wrong that I can see, and the X-rays are clear, so I think you probably just have a case of TMJ.”

Looking at me, and sensing my incredulity, she quickly stated, “Because, as you may know, the jaw is a unique joint in that it not only pivots, but it also slides.”

This proved so fascinating that I couldn’t quite muster a response. Now I probably could, but then, no.

After a few seconds of silence, she concluded with the catch-all safeguard, “Of course, you should check with your doctor to be sure there isn’t something wrong structurally.”

So, I went to my doctor. She checked my ears and my jaw and she took a few simple tests involving dividends and quotients. Frankly, I was thinking I’d get some kind of emergency procedure followed by an intravenous dose of demerol, but no. She said, “I think you probably just have some TMJ.”

Seeing the suspicion in my expression, she quickly added, “Of course, you could go to a Joint Specialist.”

I tried to imagine what a Joint Specialist might spend his day doing.

She continued, “which will involve a $135.00 consult, with additional fees for panoramic X-ray and interior manipulation.”

I tried to imagine what constituted interior manipulation.

“Which,” she said, “will not be covered by insurance, because TMJ is classically a ‘woman’s syndrome’ and the ‘powers that be’ are men.” She smiled.

Not wanting to get ensconced in her angry diatribe, I left the doctor’s office, electing to do what my dentist had already advised, which was:

a) Take regular doses of iboprofen
b) Don’t eat anything chewy
c) Hope that it gets better over time

Well, the other night, my partner and I were watching the Dodger game while I gummed my dinner. At some point, I had to yawn. I could feel it coming on, but I couldn’t stop it. And, when it finally hit, it hurt! So, I said, “Ouch!” and put my hand on my jaw.

My partner said, “You know you’re not supposed to yawn.” Followed by the unspoken, ‘stupid.’

I sat there and thought about my situation for a few seconds, which is about my thinking limit. Then I said,

“This is ridiculous. What is the point of going to doctors? I go to the doctor, and there’s never anything wrong.

“Remember the time she said something like, ‘I realize your arms and legs twitch in your sleep, and it wakes you up, but there’s nothing we can do. You have a simple case of Restless Leg Syndrome (or: RLS).’

“And, remember when I went in and I told the other doctor that my throat felt like it was closing up, and I was getting low-grade fevers. And he said, ‘Well, there’s nothing showing up on your tests. It may be a sign of peri-menopause. You could try an SSRI’

“Or, when I went in and she listened to my complaints and then said to me, ‘Actually, you probably just have a common case of Irritable Bowel Syndrome (IBS). Work on your diet, and exercise more.’

“And, remember when the osteopath explained to me, ‘Yes, the MRI does show a ruptured disk and you clearly have chronic back pain, but surgery would just be overkill, and there’s nothing definitive we can do.’ “

I paused in my rant and looked over at my partner. You know, just to see if she was following my train of thought. But she was still looking at the television. So, I continued.

“Today, I went in to see the dentist, and I said, “What can I do for this TMJ?” and she said, “There’s really nothing we can do, besides what I’ve already suggested.”

I looked over at my her again. I said,

“Remember when I called 911 with what I thought was an anxiety attack, because I was sweating and dizzy and my breathing was labored, and my hands and feet were tingling, and when I got to the ER, my BP was 120 over 70, my pulse was normal, my reflexes were good, my blood sugar was fine, my color, my ears, my teeth, my gums, were all excellent. I was in perfect condition. But here I sit, with all these ailments.”

And my partner just sat there. You know, like the Stepford Partner (SP). I’m sure you’ve experienced what I’m talking about. It’s like, I wasn't being ignored, exactly, but she was simply being lulled by the beautiful poetry of this very personal, and touching, story.

To clarify, I said, “I’ve got IBS, TMJ, and RLS, but there's nothing wrong with me.”

Silence.

I said, “Well, WHY do you think this is?”

Finally, she looked over at me. She said,

“Because you’re a hypochondriac.”

Well.

I must say.

I feel much better now (MBN).