Lying in bed worrying that something bad is going to happen is not much fun.
I know this because I’ve been doing it a fair bit lately.
Quite often, the days are busy and I’m fine, but by night I start to entertain thoughts of something happening to the baby that is due, or to Littleboy, or any of us. I’ll wonder are we bound for some further nightmare that’s going to come swinging from no-where to knock us to the floor again and take our lives to a whole new level.
Just because we’ve had some shitty luck doesn’t mean we’ve served our time or taken our share…there is no allocated share.
We were having lunch one day on our holidays when my wife held up her hand and said ‘look at my finger’. So I look at her hand and I can’t see anything. Then I do see, it’s twitching away of its own accord. She says it feels wierd and she can’t stop it.
So, what do I think to myself?
I think of how I was reading the opening pages of Michael J. Fox’s “Lucky Man” just a couple of days previously, where he described how his body gave him the news of his impending descent into Parkinson’s by making his little finger tremble and twitch.
I think, ‘Oh for fock sake, she’s got bloody Parkinson’s. Marvellous’. What I say is “you’re just tired, it’ll go away when you get some rest.” And it did go away, but the little spike of fear had happened, and it wasn’t pleasant.
A couple of nights ago I had a horrible dream where Littleboy fell from a height… I woke up after nearly taking my wife’s head off with my jump to catch him.
Then today, Irishmam rang me at lunchtime, sounding distressed. I could hear Littleboy in the background so I just thought maybe he was being difficult and she was worn out. But no, he had an accident and banged his teeth in the playground. It looks like his front three teeth have been rammed up into his gum, with one of them mostly chipped away.
He was in fine form this evening, though his top lip is all swollen. We’ll find out the extent of the damage tomorrow morning when he goes to the dentist.
Irishmam is wracked with guilt* that he might have to spend the next few years with no front teeth, but what was shocking was how upset we both got at the thought of him being hurt. We just have such a low tolerance for anything like this now, and yet we know that it’s only his little teeth and they’ll grow back in a couple of years and things could be a million times worse.
*It was purely an accident, she has nothing to be guilty about. Yes, I have told her this!
I don’t like being robbed of my confidence that things won’t go wrong.
I hope the dentist tells us that the damage to Littleboy’s teeth is minimal and he’ll be fine.
I’d still like to read Michael’s book….maybe when I’ve finished The Black Swan.
***** Lunch-time News ******
Littleboy has been to the dentist, who told us that his teeth are going to be fine, they are rammed up into his gums and should come down in time. It’s about the best outcome we could have hoped for. Yay.