So where's the snow?

Muddling through in Austria; God, life and a small black dog

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Langlaufing time!

I suppose my intense dislike for Dentists must have started in childhood with our one in Winchester.  He used to be quite rude about my teeth and once found a stray piece of cereal which I was expected to explain away.  Mum also used to quite often take us straight out and into the sweet shop next door!  I needed many filings,  I’ve found out due to poor enamel which I can can do nothing about.  I had to have root treatment when George was a baby and with no one to help had to sit him in a pushchair in the surgery, leaving him yelling at several stages while I was being treated.  Then when I came here, I needed more root treatment, when I suddenly had viscous pain  a couple of weeks after arriving. 

The Austrian Health system allows you to take responsibility for yourself, so no reminders are sent for check ups.  Hence I now only go when there’s a problem, which is also pretty stupid as I’ve just found out. I broke a filling out of a tooth and left it for months as there was no pain, not realising that this was one of the root treated ones, ans it was starting to rot and now I’ve even less  chewing ability than before!

So to the point, which is to talk about the system here.  Our Dentist (and this is common) works on his own and has three treatment rooms.  He then legs it between the three, for example while you are numbing up.  Which means no appointment is ever on time, and the receptionist has even told me to remember my book!  Is this better than the English system?  I don’t know.  It’s certainly more basic, he even hit my teeth with a metal prong to find out which one has the problem, although he does have an x-ray machine.  I don’t know which is better, except I’m still keeping to my non-attendance policy even if its stupid!

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Getting on with life

Garden in July

Having been brought up in a dysfunctional family I never really understood love, how it makes you feel, no one told me about it.  It’s been a lifelong learning.  I understand now how my emotions are deep and rarely boil to the surface.  When Stef left for University and then came back for visits, it came as a shock when it hurt so much when she left.  I’d only felt like this once before for a boyfriend who’d dumped me!  I didn’t realise that love was the same whether family or boyfriend – simply love. When we left the UK it was all exciting, I knew where my kids were, we contacted each other regularly and the distance really made no difference.  But each time we meet and part the pain gets worse, and after both the kids were here for my birthday I was crushed.  I’d thought the stress of having to drive on my own home through a blizzard on the motorway would stem this – well it did for a while, but the next day was hell.  Can I cope with such increasing pain, do I need to go back to the UK  where I’d see them more and it would  lessen?  But they are adults and live their own lives, I couldn’t inflict my problems on them. I don’t know.  It does pass.

Did my Mum feel like this when I left home or when I visited?  I wish we could have talked but feelings weren’t mentioned. Then maybe I would have been prepared for all this. 

My solace is my faith, he’s been here too.