Last week, a wackadoodle decided to sit on the street light pole down in Times Square. I had the perfect vantage point to watch the whole thing go down. At first, I was terrified he was going to fall, but eventually, so many policemen were around him, and so many hooks were attached to him, I stopped worrying and started wondering why in the heck someone would perch themselves on a light pole. He didn't seem to be shouting anything, or trying to sell anything. It was strange. It took all those policemen at least a half hour to get the guy down, then it took them another ten minutes or so to completely wrap him up (I'm not sure if they put him in a straitjacket or not) and shimmy the stretcher into the police van. I took lots of pictures, felt vaguely guilty about it, but kept a few to post. A friend suggested I do a post just about the wacky things I see outside my office. I'll go through old photos and see what I can find. I know for sure I have some photos from the field goal kicking contest and from the rodeo (?!). And some tennis. Look for that post down the road. I may even try to do some sort of "a day from my office window" kind of thing and take a picture once an hour. Again, we'll see. :) In the meantime, here's the wackadoodle.
This week had two annoying medical appointments. Wednesday morning, I returned to the dentist for the first time in two years. Sorry if that grosses you out. In 2010, I had repeated staph infections that kept coming back no matter how many antibiotics I took. It was depressing. My dermatologist recommended I wait to go to the dentist until all that was cleared up. Then, of course, in 2011, I had the Great Breast Saga, and Dr Vera Wang asked me to hold off on dental work until she was finished. After the holidays, I started noticing a little tooth pain, so I finally screwed my courage to the sticking place and, after getting approval from Dr Vera Wang, found a dentist that both took my insurance and was nearby my office. Quick digression: I have ALWAYS hated going to the dentist. I mark it back to when I was a child and our family dentist ridiculed me for having watery eyes during a procedure. The creep. Ever since then, I've felt embarrassment and shame at the dentist. I finally found a nice dentist (whose name was Dr Dennis, believe it or not) and I went to him for years. In fact, even after I moved to New York, I still went to him when I went home for a visit. Finally, I decided I needed a local guy. I went once to a jerk in the Empire State Building. He (and his staff) let me leave the office with blood all over my face. Nice. I looked like a vampire or a cannibal. Then I went to an older gent near my former eye doctor. He was nice enough, then he retired, in early 2010, and things went downhill from there. Anyway, Wednesday. I was a little nervous, walking west west west on 41st Street, but the building turned out to be fine. After filling out some forms, I waited in the extremely spartan waiting room, alongside a man who was very unhappy he was waiting. Every person that went back before him caused much sighing, eye rolling and near-clutching of chest. I almost told my guy to take this poor man first before he had a stroke. Almost. I was taken to the x-ray room by a very nice young technician. After he read my chart, he decided I needed to have two of the lead aprons they put on you during the x-rays. I told him that the 'girls' were fake (TMI?) and I probably didn't need two aprons, but he wanted to be safe. Um, ok. After the x-rays, I went in and met Dr Doogie Howser, my dentist. He can't be more than 12 years old. He was very pleasant, was very upbeat and showed me the error of my gums' ways. He asked me what kind of music I liked, so I could be relaxed while he worked. I told him the relaxed ship had sailed, thanks, but classical music would probably be nice. (side note: at one point, I noticed some of the music from Schindler's List. it did NOT relax me) I asked him if anyone ever chose rock music, because it seemed to me a 'beat' would be weird, and he said, in fact, 80s music was very popular and he thought that was fun. I said, 'well, for you guys, it's retro and fun; for me, it was my childhood.' He laughed and said he wasn't that young! I said, 'oh yes you are. By the way, I have hot flashes. Just to warn you.' I think he and the very nice young tech were scared of me.
He did a cleaning, which was very painful, then afterward he pointed out all the procedures I would probably need moving forward. Sigh. Figures. I have finally paid off all my medical bills from last year and now I'll have to start paying dental bills. I'm still trying to suss out how I want to proceed, though I am having a small cavity filled next week. I wonder if he'll be happy, because when I left, he said it was nice to meet me and he hoped I came back. Did he think I would dump him because he's too young for me? ;)
This morning, I had a follow-up with Dr Pay in Advance. Thankfully, before the appointment, I stopped in a local diner for a little breakfast. The waitress there was very sweet and cheerful and lifted my mood. Waiting two hours for Dr Pay in Advance? My mood wilted. I was ticked. I should've left after an hour. So I guess I'm partly to blame, but...grrrrr. How about a seat neighbor in doctor's office waiting room report?? The woman sitting across from me apparently called her g.p. or someone from her seat and complained that she had been kept waiting for a half hour (she was seeing someone other than Dr Pay in Advance) and that showed a lack of respect. I thought, gee, sister, you haven't come here often, have you. She yelled into her phone a little more. Immediately after she hung up, an office underling came out to talk to her. So the g.p. must've called that other doctor's office and told them there was a postal woman in the waiting room. They had a long conversation that ended with Postal Woman deciding to stay, just this once. After that monumental decision had been reached, in walked two women with NO concept of indoor voice. They sat behind me, and talked at the top of their lungs, mainly about how nauseated they were. Because of their sinuses. And if only they didn't have lunch plans, they could've had pizza before their appointment, because tomatoes cure nausea. The smoothie with carrots and ginger wasn't working! And could this waiting room be any hotter? Do you think somebody drowned Whitney Houston on purpose? OMG. On and on and on. I almost became postal. This drove Postal Woman over the edge and she left without seeing her new doctor. God only knows how that will turn out. Five more minutes of Miss and Miss Nauseated Outdoor Voice would've sent me out of the room, too, but I luckily finally got called in to see Dr Pay in Advance. Two hours late, but whatever. She told me nothing new. Again. So glad I pay her in advance for this stuff. Though she did order some blood work, to see if anything is happening with those five errant cells she's worried about. She also suggested I have my fibroids looked at, because she's just really hot for me to have my ovaries out. And she told me I'll need to have an MRI in January, to check out the implants. Blah blah blah. We could've e-mailed. Whatever. She did ask me when I'm going to be on another game show. I need to work on that...
To end this post on a happy note, I had a glorious dinner last night with a dear gal pal and we ate at Bryant Park Grille. It was a beautiful evening, the food was delicious, the wine was better, and my dear gal pal was the best. So, I am now throwing out all thoughts of postal women, nauseated loudmouths and prepubescent dentists and thinking of the fun I had last night with my pal. Plus, I'm happy that I have some of that delicious pasta leftover for tonight. Something to look forward to. Enjoy the photos from Bryant Park. To finish, I will loosely quote Bill Finn: I feel so much spring within me... :)
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