just put things where they go

I have a solution for a large percentage of the world's problems - at least for my problems: just put things where they go.

I came across this epiphany today through great trial and tribulation.

Last night, on the way to church, I stopped for gas. There is this one gas station in town that doesn't have a credit card pay system and I always forget and go there. It was raining and stormy and we were on the way to church so I handed Austin my debit card with the instructions: "put it where it goes" and asked him to hand me cash from my wallet to go inside and pay for gas. When I came out, I saw the debit card laying on top of my purse, loose in the car and I said, "PUT IT IN MY WALLET WHERE IT GOES". My children know where things go in my purse. They are my co-pilots. My children do not have that healthy fear of women's purses that most men have. My kids dive right in. They know where things go... from my phone to my lip glosses to my sunglasses. They definitely know where my debit card goes.

So today I had to go to the windstream office to pay for our internet, phone and satellite. I got in the store and.... no debit card. I looked all through my purse. No debit card. Six dollars cash on me. No checks. Not such a crisis at windstream... I can go back and pay later... but I had an appointment scheduled with the oral surgeon today and they were going to expect to be paid.

My windstream errand was supposed to be my fifteen minute lunch break since I was leaving work early today. Instead... I made the mad dash back home for my checkbook. Along the way I called the doctor to make sure they would accept a check (some places don't, you know) and they said they would but let me know that my insurance couldn't confirm that my deductible had been met so they would need me to pay the entire office visit - $400 - up front today.

Little secret about Heather - she doesn't use credit cards. I'm a cash and carry kind of girl. Therefore, I can't just squeeze out an extra unexpected $400. I argued with the girl at the doctor's office... "I have SOOOO met my deductible". Still driving toward home to get the checkbook, still frantically digging through my purse to locate the debit card.

Long story short... I get home, I determine the debit card is nowhere to be found (and therefore must be cancelled). I convince Blue Cross to convince my doctor that I have indeed met my deductible for the year. Already. And then I call State Farm bank to get a new debit card.

By the way, State Farm Bank has awesome customer service. I'm not just being a team player when I say that. They have great security questions. Their rep was friendly and helpful. She went over my last five transactions to make sure they were legit. (Ingles, Ingles, ATM, ATM, Po-Phone Minutes) She made arrangements to overnight the new card to my office. I just had to give her my state and agent code with SF and she was able to link it all up. I started feeling a little better at this point.

Unfortunately, all this takin' care of bidness took so much time that it was then time to head to the doctor's office. No time to eat. No money to go through a drivethru. No lunch for Heather.

I got to the doctor. The receptionist was less than friendly. I called two days ago and advised them that I had not received the paperwork they were supposed to send. She said I should have it in the mail that day. I didn't. I asked her to fax it. She didn't. So I got there and she asked if I had the paperwork. I didn't. Her sigh was so loud that my bangs flapped back and forth in the breeze. She pointed at a clipboard with an intelligence test attached. I smiled and took my seat. I wrote quickly. I could hear her telling the other girl, "Heather Darby didn't bring her paperwork". Bite me.

They called me back. They took xrays. They had me watch two videos: Fun Facts about TMJ and Third Molar Removal. Riveting. I seriously laughed out loud while watching them. The bad actress playing the patient said, "Doctor, I'm concerned about the side effects of anesthesia". Don't worry, acting talent isn't one of them. The doctor said, with Marcus Welby sincerity, "In some rare cases, anesthesia can be fatal". "You mean I could DIIIIIE?" Yes, bad actress, fatal and die are pretty much the same thing.

Then I got an exam by the nurse. She said, "You don't have TMJ". I said, "yeah. I didn't think so. I have a dislocated jaw". *eyeroll* "OH.... why didn't I know that?" Probably because the receptionist was punishing me for not having my paperwork. She took me to a different exam room. Apparently they divvy their patients by disease and disorder. The surgeon was super nice. Blue eyes and left handed and told me right away that all of his insurance is with State Farm. Good, we can be friends. He did a really thorough examination.. poked and prodded my jaw, my ear, my teeth... tested my bite... and then he asked what seems to be the question of the week: "Are you under any stress?"

Maybe just a little.

Apparently I'm clenching my teeth a lot. IN the same way that being overweight will wear on the joints of your knees... clenching your teeth will wear on the joints of your jaw. The pain is from inflammation - which is why - duh - the anti-inflammatories worked. Left Handed Marcus Welby with Blue Eyes said, "I'm a surgeon, but I don't think you need surgery. Yet". My dislocation... "sprained jaw" essentially... can be corrected with a splint to keep me from clenching my teeth... a soft (nothing bigger than a grit) diet... talking less, singing less, anti-inflammatories, muscle relaxers... for two weeks. After that if I'm still in pain he'll bring me back in and decide if we need to do surgery. I'm on a slurpee and slushy diet for the next two weeks... so I had chicken and hominy for dinner. I didn't have any grits.

It's a little unsettling to realize I have a jaw overuse injury. Who woulda thunkit?

Back to the whole concept of putting things where they go. My oral surgeon asked about my stress... "what has you stressed?" Well, I met a man, moved to Woodstock to live with him and his kid, then he moved to Jacksonville, so I moved there, he treated me horribly, had an affair, lost his job and then told me he was not able to love me. I tried to kill myself. I moved to the mountains... got a new home, a new job and a new life. Or am I sharing too much?

Marcus Welby is also concerned that my wisdom teeth have never been removed and thinks that's a big reason for the dental problems I've had over the past few years. He doesn't think that I'm "mentally in a good place" for that surgery now. Wants me to get over "the hump" and get the jaw issue resolved and then later on this year have those wisdom teeth removed.

I don't know why they call them wisdom teeth... I sure managed to do a lot of stupid things while they were in.

Putting things where they go... if those teeth had been taken out twenty years ago... well....

If the debit card had been where it was supposed to be...
If the Blue Cross people had just given the right information to the doctor's office...
If the doctor's office had sent me the paperwork...
If the paperwork had been in the right hands I wouldn't have had to watch those two stupid videos...
If husbands came home instead of screwing their employees, I'd be under less stress and not clenching my jaw...
Yes, blame this illness on MJD as well.
If trash went in the trash can and dirty dishes went in the dishwashes and laundry went into the washing machine and employees could actually stay at work instead of having to go home an deal with missing debit cards and doctors appointments. If people paid their bills and didn't default on loans. If soldiers were home instead of fighting in war.
Name your own .... something that would be better in your life if things were just put where they go.

I'm obsessing about Octomom.
I'm still crunching Crunch-n-munch although we had a waaaay too short date yesterday. He's so busy... Trivia tonight... Remote for the station tomorrow night... Remote for the station on Saturday...
I'm working Saturday morning.
My friend A.T. is having a pretty hot crunch-n-munch herself.
Angie is heading out of town on Sunday. I have volunteered to help with the girls... Jim can probably handle it but it's nice to be around if needed.
My hair is in braids. I'm one of those tacky 40 year old cat ladies with braided hair. It just made me feel better.
I tried to eat baked chicken for dinner and just couldn't handle the chewing.
Got a letter from Cody in the mail today addressed to "Mommy". I love my boys.
Ok... time to face facebook for the night.
Moral of the story: I'm gonna live. Love and hugs, Y'all!