When I was a wee lad, my mother smashed one of my fingers in a heavy apartment door (she swore to her dying day that it was an accident…the jury’s still out). It took off the fingertip at the top knuckle. Two of the world’s leading hand surgeons (Harold Kleinert and Joseph Kutz) performed the reattachment of my right ring fingertip. This happened right before Christmas in, I think, 1975. It being winter, I was sick when the accident occurred. From what I’ve been able to piece together (just about all of the people involved in this story are dead), I was running a fever when I underwent surgery, and the fever and the anesthesia combined to cause several of my permanent teeth to come in with no enamel on them. Consequently, they break easy, despite sealants and regular brushing. I have about 4 or 5 that are currently broken. Usually they don’t bother me. But when one flares up, I feel like squeezing my nuts in a vice just to take the pain away.
all those “forward” clicks aren’t trying to get rid of the BOSS ad, but of Katy Perry. Nothing personal against the woman, but how does a string of twelve of her songs come up in every single English-language playlist, no matter what song I started from? Smash Mouth? Rammstein? ACDC?
OK, I exaggerate: Flogging Molly hasn’t managed to end up in a Perry-fest. Yet.
Fuck the lottery, both state and national. I never bothered with it in the past, but on a lark a few months ago, shelled out $20 for both of them. Then again. In 60 draws involving three sets of numbers, not one of my numbers has ever been drawn. I’m not talking about a winning combination; I’m talking a single, solitary number. There ought to be some sort of prize for total futility and abject failure, but they’ve gotten my last dollar.
I’m sure I’ve mini-ranted about this before, but jeez people, stop riding your bicycles on the sidewalk! Not only are you adults but this is California so there is a lovely 6-foot-wide bicycle lane RIGHT NEXT TO YOU. Use it and leave the sidewalk for us pedestrians.
I also wish to rant about my kids’ elementary school, which gives out at least one “merit” award per year to each student. Of course parents are expected to attend the award assemblies and sit though endless kids trooping up to receive their awards. This last assembly was worse than usual as they showed a video the second graders made about kindness. The video was more than 15 minutes long, which was WAY too long. Should have been 5 minutes, tops. I left after my kid got her award and I was there for over an hour :eek:.
It’s not that I think the awards are terrible, but having each kid get one kind of dilutes the specialness and I wish the parents weren’t expected to attend. Some of us have jobs don’t you know!
Wonderful, now the quote function isn’t working for me …
But thanks to everybody - he passed on Tuesday after a whirlwind bout of viral pneumonia … so damned fast. I expected to be able to rag on him for his music taste for another 20 or 30 years …
On the side, my Eve Online corp is going to pop cynos for him about the time the actual funeral is happening Saturday. Nice touch - funeral fireworks in a sort of manner.
The national is, but at the state level, you get as many draws as you want as long as you put enough money into it. A $20 ticket for the Megabucks gets you two sets of numbers and 20 draws. The Powerball gets you one set of numbers for ten draws for $20.
It’s more annoying to me than anything resembling fun, so I’m out.
Our company just issued gas fleet cards, which are accepted at EVERY single gas station except one: X Markets, who of course, are RIGHT next door to our office. Which means we have to drive 5 miles out of our way to get gas now. And today, I had to spend an extra 20 minutes getting gas because I tried the X markets at an exit 40 miles away, and nope, the pump wouldn’t take the card there either, so its clearly a company wide issue.
1/2 mile down the road I found a rival XX Stores who took the gas card. Why cant X just make their pumps accept our gas cards like every single other gas station on the face of the earth? I’ve been to Mom and Pop one pump stations manned by Cleetus that take the cards, noooooooo problem. But not a multi-million grocery chain.
And Wednesday, I definitely empathize about the awards ceremony - many hours of my life sitting in cafeterias, auditoriums, and “cafetoriums,” watching painful performances and 1000 kids trouping across the stage to get participation awards. Already dreading honors night at the high school, which will take about 2 hours (but at least the seats are comfortable.) I miss the middle school - the principal there has it down to an art. One gathering per grade level, you only get invited if your kid has done something meritorious, hold your applause until the end. I think the longest ceremony I sat through was 33 minutes, and the shortest was 26.
Today we got the news that my husband’s teeth are not salvageable. Any of them. Full dentures at age 52, yay! :mad:
No, we don’t know why they’ve been deteriorating so badly, to the point where they are literally crumbling in his mouth. There was a time when he was “that guy” - the one who could go to the dentist once a decade and be fine. There was a time when our dentist was told about his newly-developed health problems and said, “well, at least your teeth aren’t a problem!” Those days are long gone.
The best guess is that it has something to do with all the medications he has to take, combined with genetics. And at this point it doesn’t really matter. So now we begin the process of getting his teeth removed and getting dentures made - assuming he can be medically cleared for dental surgery. Fun times.
My husband has The Man Flu. It seems to have mutated from “That Upper Respiratory Crud that My Wife Has Had for a Month,” to “ZOMG! The Plague!” since Tony caught it. Lucky for him, he has someone to bring soup and ice water and another blanket and deal with meals and kids and the other daily stuff…
More hugs for aru I’m sorry this has happened. You deserved more time to say good bye.
Hey Hey Paula The good news about your hubs teeth is that his health issues might improve after he has his teeth removed. His other health issues probably started the dental issues and the dental issues effected his health issues.
My BB got his yearly dental exam along with his regular physical like clockwork. He had his teeth cleaned 4 times a year. Suddenly, something went wrong and he ended up having heart surgery. After he recovered from that, his teeth felt funny, so he went to the dentist and had to have all of his teeth pulled. (Warning, if your hubs snores now, you don’t even want to know how its going to be when he doesn’t have teeth.)
After my BB got his dentures, many of the nagging problems he was having with his health went away.
Of course, this is just IMO, so don’t take it for more than its worth. I was just trying to find the silver lining in your cloud.
Lacunae Matata You are a saint. I mean that. I’d be a widow if my BB did that to me. Of course, I’d be sure that my lawyer would be sure that the jury was full of women, so I wouldn’t be convicted.
My rant is so mini compared to everyone else. Steve the house feral acts like he has a bad tooth. I could be wrong, but he’s not eating well and paws at his face. So now we are going to have to trap a cat in our own home and take him to the vet to be sedated before she can even look at him. Its going to take him years to learn to trust us enough to sleep on the bed again.
I wonder, flatlined, if you have any friends who could help with or take over trapping Steve who could then take the blame for it instead of you. Preferably someone who won’t be hurt if Steve hates them. Good luck, anyway.
Using human logic on a cat works really well, said no-one ever.
Chances are equally good that Steve will hate everyone forever or that he’ll learn that ‘traps are bad, bed is good’ and go right back to sleeping on the bed.
I suppose if you leave the house entirely and get a stranger to do the trapping you may have a small chance of forgiveness. Might take a week though for Steve to even come out of hiding if you leave, so good luck.
My SO has had a full set of dentures since his twenties. Not wonderful for him (better since he got implants for the bottom) but no snoring issues either. He doesn’t take his teeth out at night though, never has; says his mouth changes shape during the night and messes things up.
Best of luck with Steve - a bad tooth will put anyone in a crummy mood! The last time JO had a problem with his mouth, I had to get two Benadryl inside of him before he’d even let me look, and he’s entirely non-aggressive with me. (Fortunately, it was just a scrape to his gums, after he chewed up a stick. The vet has to muzzle and sedate him for basic treatment. Dental care requires full anesthesia and the canine equivalent of 4-point restraints.)
In other critter news, the Big Dog has knocked over the outside garbage can and strewn trash across the whole yard. Yay. And my mom is coming over, so I’d hoped to get some cleaning done indoors today. Double yay.
kayT While that is a very good idea, I think that slumtrimpet is right. I do have a plan, though. Steve is going to a vet who is used to dealing with ferals which is important. Steve is a very handsome guy and doesn’t look like a feral, if the vet and staff don’t know to be careful, someone could get hurt.
Tomorrow night, I’m going to put Steve’s Kitten in a carrier, back the trap to the carrier door and then cover everything with a blanket so the only way Steve has to get to his kitten (who is no longer a kitten anymore, she’s a grown up cat) is through the trap. Once Steve is trapped, I’ll cover the ends of the trap and put the trap on a couple of pieces of 2X4 which will be on a sheet of plastic so his output will drop to the plastic.
Yes, I have done this before…why do you ask?
After Steve comes home from the evil people with needles, I’ll lock him in the rescue room for a couple of hours and then let his kitten in with him.
I don’t care that he is going to hate me forever, he’s my responsibility and I love him, gosh darn it! AND to show my dominance, I’m going to cuddle him while he’s drugged. Take THAT, Steve!
Made me laugh.
Trips to the vet (an hour drive one way) include a roll of paper towels, a container of wet wipes, disinfectant spray, air freshener, and poo bags. That’s for the cats. It seems that telling them they need to use the litter box before we leave has no affect. Quelle surprise.
