I finally had my perio consult, wherein they approved me for implants (if the insurance covers it). As with anything dental in my case, it will be another “12 step program” as I call it, a long, complicated, expensive construction project involving my whole mouth. The less costly option is too horrible to even contemplate. Besides, I may not live that long!
I just want actual functional teeth; you’d think such a basic human necessity wouldn’t price out most average humans, even with decent Medicare advantage insurance. But such is our wonderful capitalist plutocracy. Medical and dental care are owned and sold like a commodity to the privileged few, instead of being accessible to everyone as a human right. (blah blah, life sucks.)
But keeping everything in perspective…while I lose sleep about my relatively fixable problem, my poor son is heading for a nervous breakdown (his words) from all the complicated stress and pressure no one person should have to shoulder. Hopefully it won’t come to that, and solutions will emerge. I try my best to help in backup ways, but the main issues are beyond my inadequate skills.
Try being a single parent trying to work surrounded by the equivalent of a mental facility (my words)! And you’re the only one there who can address all the meltdowns while literally in the middle of business meetings. Never mind managing a household or getting any sleep. Even if the meltdowns happen at school, it’s still up to you to stop everything to deal with it.
Typical days may feature: a fugitive kid being chased all the way home by a posse of school staff and police, because the kid got mad or frustrated. Or a kid screaming, swearing, and lying about HW so they don’t have to do it, or just being mean and surly much of the time. Or a kid shrieking and shutting down for the most basic, innocuous routines, every time. Or a kid curling up in fetal position from too many stressful stimuli. Those are just the tip of the iceberg for kids with multiple neurodivergent conditions.
I get to retreat to my apartment sometimes to catch up on sleep (or worry myself sleepless) and write these simpleminded entries. I feel like a slacker, but if I don’t refuel (or rest my deviant leg) I won’t be of any use to Avdi. And he needs what little help I can provide more than ever. (Retirement is a delusion anyway; it’s either becoming flabby and sluggish until you die, or trying to hurry and catch up on all the real living you had to give up while slaving away your life to survive. Just my opinion.)
I feel fortunate each day I’m given to keep learning and growing and trying to be useful, after all the squandering of opportunities I did in the bad old days. One day at a time is literally all I’ve got now, so I try to use it wisely, for a change, and try not to panic about what ifs.