Tuesday, November 22, 2016

Dental Assistant or Dental Annoyance?

Who loves going to the dentist?? Please, there is no need for everyone to yell "I do!" at the same time.

Like most folks, I don't enjoy having dental work done. But I do like my dentist! I've been going to Dr. R for about twenty-five years. He does excellent work! He also has a calm demeanor and soothing voice. Those qualities are so helpful to nervous dental patients like me.

However, I remember a dental assistant he had about ten years ago who was anything but soothing. I'll call her Cathy for this story.

Cathy had a habit of conversing with the dentist about her personal life while he was working on patients. Well, maybe she only did it when he worked on me, but it happened more than once.

If she had just wanted to tattle on herself, that would've been one thing. (I do it all the time, except in this story, I'm tattling on her.) But she would mention people by their full name! I'll give you an example.

"Hey Doctor, I finally got an appointment to get my car fixed at Smith Automotive. Someone had recommended John Doe Car Repair, but I would never go there! My Dad knows John Doe and he is the biggest crook in town!"

As I was helplessly laying back in the chair,  I thought "I can't believe she said that! She doesn't know me personally. For all she knows, John Doe could be my uncle or my best buddy!" He wasn't, but it was the principle of the situation!

I remember the time when Overly-Chatty Cathy told the Doc about a movie she had watched the night before. It's funny to me now, but it wasn't when it happened!

I was having some major work done. My anxiety had started the night before.

The dentist had already given me some shots of Novocaine and Cathy had put the mask on me and started the Nitrous Oxide (laughing gas). As you might know, the effects of both drugs must be monitored because they can cause nausea and other problems.

So Cathy started describing the movie to Dr. R. It went something like this:
"My husband and I watched "Evil in the Valley" last night. Did you see it?  (No)  It was based on a true story about a college student who gets murdered by her stalker. "

Chatty Cathy interrupted herself to check on me. "Are you doing okay? Do you feel nauseous at all?" (I'm a little shaky but okay.)

She continued her story. "This guy stalked the woman for a year. Then he stabbed her 49 times. OMG, the murder scene was so realistic!! I've never seen so much blood!"

"Hey Mrs. Bauder, how are you feeling? Still doing alright?"
 My thoughts were "Really? How kind of you to ask! If I hadn't felt bad enough already, your gory movie scene is making me very queasy."
I held my hand up and said "Uh fee a ih ick" Which meant "I feel a little sick" (Doc R still had an instrument of torture in my mouth.)

He stopped working and said "Let's give you a break for a a couple of minutes and we'll turn down the laughing gas." Cathy adjusted the machine, then picked up where she left off, "And the stalker also slit her throat! It was a great movie but horrible! He got the death penalty."
Oh, she couldn't possibly have left her story unfinished, could she?

I never complained about Chatty Cathy's unprofessional comments and stories. I'm an easy-going person really. But looking back, I wonder if I should have said something.

I still had nervousness prior to my dental appointments after that. But I think it was dread of spending time stuck with Cathy as much as fear of the actual procedure!

A few months after that, she was no longer employed by Dr. R's office.

Well, I did receive a couple of positives from my experiences with her. Since I can be a chatty person myself sometimes, I was reminded that discretion is important! Who am I blabbing to, where and under what circumstances?
And I gained another story for my 'truth is stranger and funnier than fiction' file.

Thanks for reading. I think I've said quite enough now.

Saturday, November 12, 2016

How to Make a Turnip Beautiful

I believe that beauty is in the eye of the beholder. So is turnipness. I'll explain.

I finally visited the big beauty store in our mall a few weeks ago. It opened about a year ago I think. They offer a wide variety of cosmetics, hair care products, fragrances, etc, and a full service salon too.

I usually shop discount chain stores for personal care items.  I use name brands but not anything very expensive.

But I decided that it would be worth it to invest in some high-quality concealer. This is because I use a glaucoma medication (eye drops) daily and I have for eighteen years. One of the side effects is that it darkens the skin pigment around the eyes.

I've always worked hard to conceal my purplish-red lids and under-eye circles. Other than glaucoma, I'm generally a healthy person! But believe me, without makeup, I look very tired and ill, maybe even like I'm on drugs. Well, I'm not on drugs but my eyes have been for many years!

I had eye surgeries last winter and as a result, I no longer have to wear thick glasses. This is just wonderfully amazing and I'm still adjusting to the change! But- my dark circles are more noticeable than ever, without my glasses to distract from them. The cheaper products just don't work well for my situation now.  Besides, who wants to feel self-conscious all the time?

So, when I told the nice saleswoman in the black lab coat my story, she was happy to help. She immediately brought a product for me to try. I sat in the salon chair and she applied it for me.

I must say, she is gooood! The very first thing she suggested worked. What a difference!
So I was quite pleased and ready to spend about fives times more money than usual for the high quality makemuck. (That's what my four year-old granddaughter calls makeup. Sounds right to me!)

Before I had the chance to jump up, the well-trained cosmetologist/mind-games expert said "I have another product for you to consider. It's a special cream for under-eye bags." (Bags? Do I have bags?!)  I told her no thanks, because bags aren't my bag (I mean my problem), just discoloration.
She lowered her voice and quickly added "But it's good for wrinkles too", as she gently touched the smile lines on the outer corner of my eye.  Oh Lady, you are smoooth. Definitely more so than the skin on my face.

While she was up-close-and-personal, she casually mentioned that I might like to have my eyebrows done by their excellent person. She warned me that it cost more than most places in town, but well-worth it! Their tech would wax my brows, then sell me a pencil so I could fill them back in. Umm, riiiight! What's the point?

I'm fine with my brows. When I start looking like a cave woman, I'm happy to let a student at one of the cosmetology schools do them for me. They get experience. I get a low cost but good brow shaping and my originals stay intact.

I politely told the overly-made-up but lovely esthetician "No thank you, not today."
I wanted to say something else, but I bit my fifty three year old tongue.

I wanted to inform her "Hey, I know what you were doing. I recognize your sales psychology. Yep, the "you are not attractive enough the way you are" trick and the "that's why you need to spend your money here" ploy. Yes, she made sure to point out my 'flaws' in an oh-so-subtle way.

Very tempting, it was, to proclaim "Listen, I'm older than you
and I didn't just fall off the turnip truck."

But that might have been a bad idea, because I think she is well-skilled in making women worry that they do resemble turnips. And Miss Prissy Pants has just the remedy for that! She even has a special camouflaging makemuck to cover up those bruises. You know, the ones you got when you fell off that turnip truck.

So girlfriends, my final thoughts to share are these:
Look in the mirror and appreciate what you see, the uniqueness that is you!
But if there is something that really bothers you, it's okay to do what you can with what you've got.
I believe that a balanced approach to these issues is the healthiest way.

You are the most important beholder of your own beauty. Especially your inner beauty!
Keep your amazingly attractive brain turned on and your emotional wits about you under pressure.
You are not a turnip and don't let anyone convince you otherwise.

Thursday, November 3, 2016

Things that go Bump in the Night

Hey! Who enjoys watching funny sitcoms? I sure do.
I have another question. Who will admit to having moments in life that are scenes from funny sitcoms?
I sure will!
Laughter is great medicine. It can relieve stress and help you forget your troubles temporarily.

My life has been in transition. Not only did my husband and I move three months ago, but we've been tackling some stressful marriage issues, among other things.

My last post here was seven weeks ago. I can't continue calling myself a blogger if I don't post stories regularly. So now I'm back after a long break- this time with one of my titillating tattling stories. Okay, at least tattling. 

About a month ago, Hubby and I were awakened by a horrid, piercing, siren-type sound in the wee hours of the morning. It was a smoke detector!  But we hadn't put any up yet (bad, I know). We were running around in a panicky daze, looking and smelling for smoke. None. Then I knew we had to find the box of smoke detectors we'd taken down at the previous house.

He grabbed a mini-flashlight and was frantically rummaging around the kitchen and dining room, trying to follow the sound.

I turned on the dining room light.  My husband immediately ducked down and said "Turn it off! The neighbors can see!" (Yes, he was in his birthday suit.)  I yelled "They aren't going to be looking out their window at two a.m.!"
"They might!" he exclaimed. "The sound probably woke them up already!"

I was fairly certain I knew where the old detectors were. I wanted to turn the light back on to look for them. "I really don't care if anyone sees me!" I sassed, in my scantily-clad, frazzled condition.

I found the elusive box. He grabbed it and took it to the kitchen where he could hide from the windows.

"OH MAKE IT STOP!!" I screamed.

He located the guilty device with the malfunctioning battery. It took him several attempts to disconnect it. Whew, finally!

The positive thing about that adrenaline-boosting, five minute fiasco is that we were both laughing about it before we went back to bed.  A funny memory was made for us during a particularly difficult time.

It was a good reminder, I think, to lighten up and allow ourselves a break from the heavy stuff for awhile. We both needed that.

Several of my friends are very private people and would never talk of their personal lives publicly. I also know friends who tell all kinds of details about almost anything.

My stories usually fall somewhere between the two extremes.

I'm a writer. I write about what I'm learning from my life experiences. I'm honest, but without airing dirty laundry.
I'm not ashamed to say that my husband (of more than thirty years) and I have been struggling individually and as a couple. I mean, what relationship doesn't go through troubled waters? It's part of life.

The crazy, embarrassing, sitcom scenes are part of life too. So "Carpe' Diem", as I often say! Or seize the awkward humor of the moment if you possibly can.

Oh! I almost forgot to tell you what goes bump in the night.
I do!
Or I did, about a week after the smoke detector episode.

There were no siren-type sounds that time, and thankfully no real sirens either.
I was very fortunate, considering that I fell out of bed onto the hardwood floor. Yep. Right on my face.

I didn't get a concussion, just a black eye and a bruised upper lip area.
As it was healing, the upper lip bruise started looking like a little mustache on the right side.

I sort of wished it had been closer to the middle. Then I would've had a Hitler thing going on and that would have been funny!