Big day tomorrow…

I do want to tell you about my physio session last night as it was particularly memorable.

Due to my having drunk a smoothie shortly before the session started (otherwise I would have not had anything to eat or drink for a good few hours), I ended up making those terribly loud stomach-gurgling noises for almost the entire 50 minutes. Barefoot physio guru didn’t say anything, of course, and continued kneading and tweaking at me, but I was inwardly cringing.

People like physios and pedicurists get to do quite intimate things to your body, and yet you don’t know them from Larry sometimes. That means that if your body behaves in a natural manner and expels air when you are relaxed, it can lead to a peculiar scenario where you are revealing your private foibles to an almost stranger.

Luckily, when I went to my orthodontic Frau Doktor this morning – for the BIG check-up – no awful grumbles issues from any part of me.

She was looking at The Gap and wanted to see if it was large enough for Mr Surgeon to get his saw through. After having been ogled manually, I was X-rayed as well and she seemed satisfied with the result. To my eyes, it looks quite narrow, so I am hoping that Mr Surgeon has lots of experience and a steady hand. (Mind you, I would hope that all surgeons have steady hands…)

Mouth 5 June

I must admit that I want to get started with the operative procedure now.

It is nearly exactly a year (21st June 2017) since I first visited the hospital and met Mr Surgeon and his team.

After that appointment, I went home and rang Mum.

I was scared of the thought of such a big op and she reassured me, and also promised that she would come over to stay with us, so that she could visit me in the hospital.

Little did we know that 16 weeks later I would be visiting her in hospital; not once, not twice, but four times between the beginning of November and Christmas.

She passed away on 27th December.

So much has changed since my first trip to the Jaw Institute and I feel like my brain is playing catch-up with my body.

People are continually commenting on my mouth and my teeth, yet fewer people think about the changes inside of me. No-one has said that I’ve changed since I have no mother anymore. No-one has congratulated me on managing to cope with becoming an orphan.

I don’t actually expect anyone to – that would be a script or a screenplay. In real life, I cannot expect anything from anyone, yet a tiny part of me would love an acknowledgement from someone, anywhere, that I am managing well. Motivating yourself constantly is draining and my body needs all my energy right now to cope with the physical.

Aaargh – I fell into the pit of self-pity again there, didn’t I?

Let’s be blunt: I miss my Mum; I wish that I had had a dad, so that at least there would have been some emotional groundwork; I feel scared and I am tired of coping.

But I’ve got Hubby and my kids. I am blessed with some good friends and I am very happy and content with my life as it is. In fact, I very much love this life and that is why it is great that I have the chance to make it better and get repaired before my jaw goes on strike forever and I cannot eat or talk anymore!

A life with no opportunity to enjoy food and to communicate using my mouth would be a dull one indeed…

 

Something good, something bad

Shrine

Many thoughts meandering through my head today: is it good that I am now free from family? Does it mean that I can stop worrying about the minutiae? Did I ever have any right to expect anything? Why do I feel like I have two bereavements to deal with? Will my children be alright? Can they understand the convoluted family situation I have been in? Will I ever be able to have a normal conversation with my Oma again? Why does having a sibling not always help you when you lose your parents? Why too many times.

I am actually fed up with considering family issues and happy that next week will be full of orthodontic issues instead.

On Monday I am being tweaked and rubbed at the physio. On Tuesday I am seeing my orthodontist with the soft hands, who will check my gap to see if it can be integrated into a new motorway flyover. Then, on Wednesday I get to go into town (actually a real city, but the proximity to here makes it hard to say I’m going into the city) and visit my surgeon who will tell me all he feels I need to know before the big op. I will then ask him all the stuff he omits to tell me, as I am now extremely curious about what is coming.

I wonder if I shall want to photograph myself and send photos to my dentist and orthodontist, as apparently some people do? I wonder how groggy I shall feel after such a long op? I wonder what colour my skin will be and if the colour will really migrate downwards onto my chest? (Does bruising like that hurt? None of my bruises have ever been more than a mild annoyance up to now.) I wonder how long I shall be in the hospital and how many books I shall be able to verschlingen that time? I wonder if I shall be shocked when I see my face again? I mean, even if my brain wonders at the difference in the mirror, won’t my heart cancel that thought out? I wonder if I shall experience a Wunder.

Work was busy, busy, busy today and as I wasn’t home, the clan got to guzzle ice-cream in the pouring rain without me. Herr Pfarrer was being generous again, inviting all the altar girls and boys to the local ice-cream parlour. Little Miss BD was creative as always with her choice of flavours: mango, Heiße Liebe and smurf(!); groovy son was more conservative – I wasn’t really surprised with his vanilla/chocolate/hazelnut combo; the exciting report for me was from Dedi who went completely off-piste with – wait for it!!! – rum & raisin combined with Kuschelrock (what a fantastic name!), which is egg-nog and caramel. Now that is something I must try 🙂

 

 

Someone like me…?

After yesterday (which was tough), I find myself starting today with a little optimism. Although I sent messages to the other 3 people left, missing Mum as much as I, I only received 1 message back.

At first, it hurt. I feel so alone sometimes, with my decimated family and no-one to share my feelings with. My children are too young to replace an adult and my husband is not the right person to share these memories with. Firstly, they are not his memories and secondly, every time I utter the words ‘I miss Mum,’ I know that he misses his mum too. And he had her for less time than I had mine.

No, he is not the right one.

So, maybe you are…? ‘You’ are many faceless, nameless people all over this world, but there must be some of you like me…? People who have only ever wanted to fit in, to be normal, to have a family that they can describe with pride to their friends.

Back in my childhood, although divorced families were still unusual, there were some others. Other kids being brought up by a single parent. I made friends with some of them – not surprisingly. I wanted allies.

But even with them, there was always the difference that they knew their missing parent. They might not live in the same house, but there was a relationship there. They even got to see their missing parent sometimes. Weekends away, staying somewhere else, being included in a new family set-up with step-parents and maybe even half-brothers or -sisters. On their birthdays, there was an acknowledgement (even if it wasn’t perfect: wrong present, too little money given) that this child was also something to do with them.

Oh, how I wanted that: an acknowledgement that I mattered and that my birth had meant something. The issues with my mum meant that we were not close for a long time and she often told me how I made her life harder. Now I am older, of course I understand that many words were uttered in haste and regretted afterwards. Yet, the feeling remained branded into my soul that I was unwelcome in life and all I wanted was to be normal, wanted, welcomed, celebrated.

So, turn off the tap and tell us all something else.

Head food

Nellie on the hunt for lettuce 😉

Today, the birds twittered (like yesterday) by my bedroom window as I rose and they are twittering outside this living-room right now. I wanted to add a sound file here,but my technological capabilities have gone off somewhere and so I shall finish off simply by saying that it really did sound beautiful.

Wherever you are and however your life is treating you, the world and God’s creatures are always a reminder that there is good to be found everywhere.

Night night, sleep tight.

Our toilet seat is wonky

It’s 5 months to the day that Mum died. Not sure how to deal with it, to be honest with you. I can’t cry anymore today, so I cleaned the toilet and feststellte that the loo seat is wonky. That reminded me of Mum remarking on Aunty L’s wonky toilet seat. I wish she were able to remark some more.

On a happier note, Little Miss BD and I have been writing in tandem today: she in her usual way i.e. no assistance from spectacles required due to failing eyesight ;-), me with my laptop. I still hanker for the days when it was usual to use pen and paper, but I am smart enough to realise that I wouldn’t be able to write to you now if technology hadn’t speeded up our planet. (I still think that paper and pen smell better than a laptop – my perfume today is Paperback: The Library of FragranceBought with Mum’s Boots loyalty card last year…)

I did mull over writing a little about my lack of family today. The thoughts accompanying me today due to the 5-month anniversary of Mum’s passing are rather bleak, and whenever I get bleak thoughts, the usual yearning is to have had a father pitch in with their mustard (sorry – German idiom, doesn’t really work in English).

However, I figure I should try to cope (as usual) and not moan so much. There are plenty of people without a parent, and plenty more without both. I had a mum for 44 and a half years, and she was a jolly good one in the end. Basta!

4 hours later: visitors have just gone. A couple who live around the corner with 2 of their daughters – met them at a christening/First Communion do 2 weeks ago. It was good to have some distraction on such a poignant day. All went well – the chat didn’t run out and the visiting girls seemed to be entertained enough.

The sun did leave us though, after such a promising start to the day – 22 degrees when we got out of bed. Birds tweeting rather than people 😉 – those were the days.

I’m still struggling to get my head round both this Twitter lark, as well as learning how a blog works. There are so many Kleinigkeiten and time is still the greatest luxury I have, or don’t have. When I am holed up in hospital after the op, maybe I will be able to study all the online courses and tips which have been sent to me after setting up this blog. Of course, I would love to make this page/site look professional, but for now I’m content to let my thoughts have free run and be able to write.

Countdown to operation: 45 days until I am professionally sawn-up and get a new face into the bargain!

TTFN

Regular Saturday – with no pain yet: hurray!

The morning has been very pleasant, considering. The spring inserted yesterday seems to be working. My ‘Madonna’ gap is growing at a rate of knots – soon, you’ll be able to park a bus in it.

Selfie with mouth 260518German Nachhilfe

Seeing as my groovy son has to learn for another Schularbeit next week (and the online exercises suggested by the school are, of course, NOT kostenlos, I gave him the task of writing me a ‘handy guide’ to the difference between ‘das’ and ‘dass’. The resulting text was better than anything I ever learned at uni – hats off!

Whilst he was busy teaching me the ins and outs of German grammar, Little Miss BD used her nimble fingers to peel my garlic cloves ready for Special Carrots for lunch. Today’s version went well – and the Perfect Bake function functioned on my muffins (ready for visitors tomorrow).

As well as all this, it looks as though Little Miss BD’s cherry tree will have a bumper crop this year. If so, it’ll be a poignant reminder of Mum. She planted the tree for Little Miss BD’s birth and probably expected to be around for a few more harvests than she was. I did too. Gone too soon, eons too soon.