Bitch on the Blog

October 14, 2014

In the chair

Filed under: Atmosphere,Cats,Formalities,Future,Human condition,Roadkill — bitchontheblog @ 17:12
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And now to something truly unpleasant. I don’t know in which order to put this: Teeth first, dentist second? In the medical profession there are lots of specializations. First you study for years, then – for even more years – you peer up people’s nostrils, up their birth canal, down their throat or – in the case of dentists – holes. Cavities by another name.

Dentists may earn a fortune. They do. But whilst you have your ‘client’ clamped down on your chair you can’t even have a conversation. Believe me I’ve tried – and I am the patient. The other thing – and this is why I won’t have my eyes operated on in December, the make merry season – dentists need a steady hand. Can you imagine a dentist with a tremor, even a slight one?

Some years ago I came across a statistic – on both alcoholism and suicide. Not that the two are related other than that alcoholism is a slow and sneaky way to kill yourself. So the statistic was startling: Journalists, Vets and anyone living in Vienna (that’s Wien/Austria) are more likely to commit suicide than someone doing accounts. Figures, doesn’t it?

Apropos of nothing: I once took our cat to the vet. Locum. I took one look at the guy. Alcoholics have nothing but my sympathy. Even if they are just about to operate on my cat. I made my excuses. Still remember that sad look in that guy’s eyes when I left the surgery, cat not having been touched. He knew I knew. Sorry I can’t save all of mankind from themselves.

How did I get onto teeth? Something is brewing. Usually on a Saturday afternoon. So, I’ll have another three days to go.


PS Other than that – currently not so much rewriting my will as composing a masterpiece – I am undecided whether to spare the Angel funeral costs by donating my precious body to medical research. Rationale tells me one thing. Squeamishness another. I do not wish to be slaughtered. Even if it is for the good of mankind. We’ll see. Considering that once upon a time medical students had to dig up graves to give them fodder …




  1. Kind of all over the place, here, U. What’s up? A tooth bothering you so much you’re thinking about drinking yourself silly or dying? I hope not any of it is the case.

    I’m donating my body to science. I won’t know what they’ll do to me and I won’t care. Where ever my energy goes, it will be long gone out of the vessel I call “Lorna.” But I’m not squeamish about death. I know many people are. 😐

    Comment by Lorna's Voice — October 14, 2014 @ 18:18 | Reply

    • Yes, you are right, Lorna, on re-reading my piece I am all over the place. Which is where I usually am. GG used to call it “Ursula’s stream of consciousness”. Not that I liked that notion much.

      Like you I am not squeamish about death. Still, for the life of me, I can’t stomach idea of being butchered. I will get round to it. Give me a few more years.

      As to your first assumption: No. No tooth of mine has yet bullied me into either drink or dying. I can go for years without needing any attention (by my dentist). Yet, never shall I forget the day (I was eleven or twelve) when, for the first time in my life a back tooth blew up (on a Saturday morning). My pain threshold is so high it’s Olympian. But by golly. I cried. Couldn’t help it. My father, a man of action, took me to an emergency dentist. Lovely sound when molar and its roots extracted from base. Crunchy. Mind you – and you will know what I mean: The relief was bliss. Bliss. Bliss. And more bliss. In fact so much bliss I thought I’d do this again just to feel blissed out.

      Thanks for the worry. But don’t. Keep that for Scrappy. Which reminds me: It is rather funny to watch animals when they are in deep sleep and dreaming. Making little noises and involuntary movements with their paws.


      Comment by bitchontheblog — October 14, 2014 @ 19:15 | Reply

  2. What gave him away Ursula?

    Comment by John going gently — October 14, 2014 @ 18:58 | Reply

    • “What gave him away?” You mean the vet? Difficult to describe. He didn’t give off any smell. But his eyes. And – of course – the tremor. His whole demanour. The way he held his body.

      I’d seen eyes like that before. An uncle of mine, the hell raiser, took to drink. Many demons to fight. Another uncle (by marriage) took to drink after a little girl ran out on the road in front of his car – and was killed. I don’t know, John. There is something in the eyes. Not so much despair as a particular type of being resigned to fate, to the inevitable. Fucking tragedy. I didn’t want to upset that vet. But my first duty was to my cat (she was due to be sterilized). Sometimes in life you are not so much given a choice as NO choice.


      Comment by bitchontheblog — October 14, 2014 @ 19:30 | Reply

  3. No comment about the dentist thing…’cept that a proctologist once told me that his specialism was less unpleasant than dentistry.

    Spent two holidays working with a(in the terms of the times) queer lush in an hotel kitchen. So I know how you knew about the vet. Mind you Spence was one of the kindest and most considerate people I have ever known… second in command in the Kitchen….. taught me a lot.

    They can do what they wih with my body except use parts for translants or patent my cells. Leaving it to sciences. I can even put up with the idea of student pranks.
    LIke you and Lorna, death does not worry me but possible pain does…. which brings one full circle to the dentist…….

    Wedding in just under 2 weeks… adifferent kind of pain I suspect.

    Comment by magpie11 — October 14, 2014 @ 19:50 | Reply

    • In line with your Spence … yes, alcoholics are so very often the kindest and most considerate. Maybe that’s why they try and dampen down any pain they feel. Who knows.

      I see you are in grip of wedding nerves. That comes from planning too far ahead. When FOS proposed (26 March in Paris) he stipulated we’d get married asap before HIS mother would work herself into a froth and frenzy. Three months later the deed was done. There was no froth. The occasion spanned two countries over three days. I left my future mother in law to the bridesmaid’s dresses and everything else was under control. Except that my father sent me a telegram two days before we were due in the motherland for the church ceremony and guests had already flown over. Content of the telegram? The wedding was off. Yes, really. You couldn’t make it up unless you are part of my family.


      Comment by bitchontheblog — October 15, 2014 @ 16:03 | Reply

  4. I don’t see the problem with donating your body to medical research. As you’re dead, you’re not going to know anything about it, are you? And the more medical research the better, I would say. Just as long as the researchers don’t laugh at my sticky-out ears.

    Comment by nick — October 14, 2014 @ 20:52 | Reply

    • You are so unromantic, Nick. There is a difference between being laid to rest at your most serene and being put in and out of the cooler in various stages of butchery. Also, I don’t like being naked in front of strangers and not having a say in what they are doing to me. I can see it now. Awful – not least from an aesthetical point of view.

      You say you don’t see the problem. Neither do I. In theory. On the other hand people do forget those they leave behind. Let’s say the Angel, driving along merrily, kissed a tree. The thought of him being cut up on a metal slab in brutal bright overhead operating light cuts me up. I’d rather let nature take its course (worms etc). To think that after all the effort we put into life in the end we are cadaver.

      As to your stick-out ears. Insert smile. Took me years to convince one of my sisters (who shares that particular misfortune with you) that it didn’t detract in any way from her other assets and nobody would notice anyway.


      Comment by bitchontheblog — October 15, 2014 @ 15:44 | Reply

      • The one thing I would really hate is my body being eaten by worms. Though as I said, I wouldn’t know anything about it.

        Comment by nick — October 15, 2014 @ 21:26 | Reply

  5. Unlike you! Teeth, eyes, death, after death and so on. What are you on?

    Comment by rummuser — October 15, 2014 @ 01:50 | Reply

    • My dear Ramana, I am on nothing. Which is probably part of the problem. When there are more pressing things to consider and find solutions to I think of all sorts of things. Including teeth. Though it is true: One is playing up. Even I can’t deny it. Molar – right at the back. It’s not even alive. It’s gold. Yes, you can’t beat a certain country’s engineering. I have had British dentists gawp at their continental colleagues’ fine work in my mouth in astonishment. In this country you’d have to take out a second mortgage to get anything remotely like it. Anyway … that’s enough of teeth and dentists. I am currently applying various witches’ tricks to keep that flare up under control.

      Shall try and regroup – if only for you (and my father who is getting a little irate with me and my current obsessions) – and think of other things to distract me from business in hand.


      Comment by bitchontheblog — October 15, 2014 @ 15:53 | Reply

  6. go get that tooth seen to so you aren’t held to ransom on the weekend!!!!

    Comment by kylie — October 16, 2014 @ 01:10 | Reply

  7. That’s one hell of a toothache if you are currently planning your funeral!

    Comment by reneejohnsonwrites — October 27, 2014 @ 01:24 | Reply

    • Getting actually worried about you. It is totally out of character for you to be absent the blog for so long, especially after this post. Hope you are okay.

      Comment by reneejohnsonwrites — November 6, 2014 @ 20:35 | Reply

      • My dear Renee, please do bear with me. You are right: It is “totally out of character” for me to be absent for so long. I don’t even want to [be absent]. But day to day pressure is piling up, my head feels close to exploding (a luxury I can’t afford). I just need to hang on in there.

        Later this evening I’ll meander over to yours – and maybe find some calm.


        Comment by bitchontheblog — November 18, 2014 @ 18:53 | Reply

  8. So how’s the tooth getting on? And the will? And have you met any more alcoholics attempting delicate surgery?

    Comment by nick — November 6, 2014 @ 14:30 | Reply

  9. Correction–5 bloggers like this post—Wordpress didn’t like my password. But I love this blog.

    Now I’m donating my body to science. Before I was afraid they’d use parts before I was totally GONE. Now I’m too old for them to want anything I have left.

    Comment by bikehikebabe66 — November 10, 2014 @ 17:39 | Reply

    • P.S. WordPress didin’t like my password because I gave it my email address. Doctors won’t be using my donated brain.

      Comment by bikehikebabe66 — November 10, 2014 @ 19:03 | Reply

  10. hey ursula,
    are you ok? try to give us an update?

    Comment by kylie — November 12, 2014 @ 11:12 | Reply

    • Thanks for asking, Kylie. No, I am not ok. Correction, I’ll always be ok – as long as I don’t run out of puff. Please do see my reply to Nick. Will try and get my blogging Mojo back.


      Comment by bitchontheblog — November 18, 2014 @ 18:48 | Reply

  11. Ursula’s playing hard to get. Or she’s busy with her new toyboy. Or she’s on a Mediterranean cruise. Or all three.

    Comment by nick — November 18, 2014 @ 11:07 | Reply

    • Oh, Nick, I am not “playing” at anything. Hard to get? My attention comes easy. Maybe too easy. “Toyboys”? Not my style. “Cruise”? Funny you should say that: A rather influential cruise company executive, high up in the echelons of that particular industry, offer tome on the palm of her hand, just dropped me. No explanation given. For someone as enthusiastic as the lady in question was about me, horror scenarios come to mind. Either she was fake or maybe she cracked her skull at the glass ceiling – and can’t admit it. Who knows. The Angel – always the voice of reason – told me not waste a moment longer on it.

      November living up to my usual expectation.

      Pretty much in despair, frivolity not on my mind,


      Comment by bitchontheblog — November 18, 2014 @ 18:46 | Reply

  12. Despair hits here too, active alcoholism was my escape. No more. 28-1/2 years but who’s counting? I live and lie down with sadness lately. I’m highly unpredictable and that is not like me. To myself that is.

    Comment by wisewebwoman — November 18, 2014 @ 23:15 | Reply

    • Having followed your blog and comments of yours on other people’s blogs I’d say you are a volcano. Resting at times – but active.


      Comment by bitchontheblog — November 19, 2014 @ 17:24 | Reply

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