Yesterday morning I was sitting in the living room, reading the Yarn Harlot's new book, and Campbell and Lily were playing nicely in Campbell's room. B looked up and said, "This isn't meant to be critical at all, but I thought you were so far behind on work that you didn't know how you were going to get it all done."
In response, I said, "I do have tons of work, but I have learned from experience that it is pointless for me to work while two kids are running around. Every time I get involved in something, all hell breaks loose. I get frustrated because they've interrupted me. They get frustrated because I'm frustrated. It's a bad situation all around. Plus, the work I'm doing now is actual writing, which takes concentration."
As if on cue, something in the bedroom went wrong, and Campbell and Lily both started screaming at the same time. I had to put down my book and go see what the problem was. Then I had to change Campbell's dirty diaper and then make lunch because both kids announced they were hungry.
When I came back in the living room, B said, "I see what you mean."
Speaking of B, the poor man just cannot catch a break. First, he was diagnosed with arthritis in his neck, then he fell and broke his heel. The three procedures he had this winter to ease his neck pain are beginning to wear off, and his heel still isn't healed. He spends most of his days in chronic pain. The next step for his neck probably involves major surgery, and he had another scan on his foot last week in preparation for an appointment next week to see why it isn't better.
Then yesterday he woke up with a tooth that was absolutely throbbing. Several months ago, he saw an endodontist who told him he had a cracked tooth that he would need to have the tooth yanked and an implant put in. The pain subsided, so B never did anything about it. When his tooth flared yesterday, he assumed it was the cracked tooth acting up. Our dentist was out of town for a family emergency, and by the time she called him back it was too late in the day for B to see anyone else. He medicated with vicodin and industrial strength topical stuff to get through the night.
Our dentist arranged for him to see someone this morning. Turns out B never had a cracked tooth, and the problem was in a different tooth all together. So he ended up having an emergency root canal. He's home now, still numb, with a swollen face. The poor guy. I've had four root canals, so I know how miserable they can be.
He's finishing up some work and then going to bed with new painkillers.
So send healing thoughts his way.