How many of you have been sad to see the last of your dentist? I was yesterday afternoon.
I'd given him a tough assignment – to make and fit a denture in just four weeks with only another six weeks to make adjustments before I would be leaving Maine. He pulled it off magnificently, but it meant a LOT of visits to his office.
We became friends in that time – the dentist, the hygienist, the assistant, the office manager and I. The visits became social occasions I looked forward to as if it were not the dentist.
Yesterday was our final visit and I was astonished to receive a farewell card with lovely notes from everyone along with a gift card to Starbucks – in case my internet account in Oregon doesn't work out and I'll have to blog from the coffee shop.
I will miss these people a lot. It was hard to say goodbye.
Meanwhile, I'm spending mornings cleaning and polishing the apartment for the new owners. Since I did absolutely nothing of that sort during the four weeks I was packing, I am now up to my ankles in dust bunnies as I clean from the top down.
I'm astonished at how five hours of work – including several short rest periods – tire me. But I have three more days, so it will get done in time for the Monday closing without tiring me too much.
After I wrote yesterday's post, I lay down to rest for a bit and was asleep almost immediately, so deeply that I didn't hear the phone ring right next to me at about 7PM. When I awakened at 9:30PM, Ollie the cat was out from under the bed creeping around the room ready to hide again at the slightest unexpected noise or movement.
He was up and down all night, poking me or walking across me – neither of us slept much - and he threw up twice. I'm pretty sure he just wanted me to be as uncomfortable as he is.
As soon as the sky was light, he crawled under the covers and as far as I can tell, didn't move until I got back from the dentist in the afternoon. He hasn't eaten anything, but I'm not worried about it since he is unlikely to starve himself even if he is unhappy. But like I said, I'm inclined to think he's more pissed off than unhappy, and punishing me for removing him from his home. What a pain in the butt cats can be.
I tried explaining what a well-traveled cat he has become; born in Philadelphia, lived in Greenwich Village, Portland, Maine and now he is moving to Portland, Oregon. He didn't appear to be impressed.
At The Elder Storytelling Place today, Mary B Summerlin: Trey's World