Giving thanks for small blessings

I played hooky from writing last weekend – and gave your sore eyes a much needed break – because I just had a root canal done earlier in the week. It was my first experience into that kind of dental procedure and it turned out to be quite an adventure. The small operation happened on mid-day, Monday, August 6th. Half of my face was numb but bearable when I got up from the dental chair forty-five minutes later, thanks to the anesthetics given during the visit. The dentist gave me regular strength pain killers to take home. So, like a good patient, I started taking them when I felt that the anesthesia was wearing off. I was probably in the 8th degree of pain for 30 hours (if 10 is the most painful). That means I didn’t sleep much that night. 

The next morning, I found an old prescription for Tylenol with codeine from another dentist. I filled it real fast at a nearby pharmacy. I even brought a small bottle of water with me. I downed that precious opium product as fast as the pharmacist could hand it to me. Thank goodness the sharp pain did gradually go away in another 4 or 5 hours with more help from that wonder drug. But I wasn’t taking any chances. Religiously I continued to take one tablet every 4 hours for another day or so. At this moment, I am still a little sore, but I’m free of pain, I think. I can’t tell you whether it was the less-than-perfect disinfection job by that young endodontist, my lack of prior experience of what to expect, or simply my over-sensitive reaction to pain, but it was a heck of a bad medical trip, that ironically was saved by opiate! I am 99% healed now, which I am grateful, hence the title of this week’s article. 

It’s natural to moan and groan when you are down in spirit and uncomfortable in flesh. But let me not forget that there are many other people I should say thanks to. Funny enough, just the thought of them make me feel better. Among these heroes: 

My general dentist P who wrote me that old, but unexpired prescription for the strong painkiller. Who would have known that it would come in handy last week? Yes, I could have called the endodontist to give me a similar prescription, but it would mean one or more days of pain and panic.

My long-time auto mechanic C who recently gave me an old but perfectly reliable Toyota Corolla, when I had to donate my old and perfectly unreliable “luxury” car to charity because it could not pass the biennial smog test without possibly thousands of dollars in repairs. I offered him a couple of thousand dollars for the Corolla, which was his wife’s old car. He wouldn’t take a dime from me.

The Kaiser Hospital doctors who have always taken care of my whole family for the last 40 plus years. Over 90% of the physicians are excellent people.And of course, the doctors at St. Joseph’s Hospital in Stockton who saved my life a few years back. Shortly after I woke up from surgery, I was transferred to another hospital. So I could not even remember the key surgeon’s name or face. Two years later, one of my sons found his business card and gave it to me. I wrote him a short and very belated thank-you note for bringing me back from the abyss. He was gracious enough to write back and wished me well.

I am a very lucky person, starting with being born from wonderful parents who fortified the protection of their baby child with the watchful eyes of three older brothers and two older sisters. All my life I’ve been helped by people, some of whom I didn’t even know. If I have to name you all, good people, the list may be in the hundreds. Let this gaffer just say a lazy thank-you now – I do think of you once in a while!

*** The End ***

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