A day of changes of plans. Mum did, indeed, schedule a dental appointment for me. And the funny part was, it was with Lindsey’s dad’s office! So we saw Calli’s mother again, and I had my whole head x-rayed. The machine made a space age sort of fluttery noise as it was going around my head. But I had my eyes closed because I wasn’t sure what one is supposed to do with one’s eyes while one’s head is being x-rayed. I suppose it’s silly to close your eyes as if that’s going to protect your eyes from the x-rays, when we all know the big lead apron thingy is the only thing that’s going to block them. But yeah, I still closed my eyes.

The good news: the wisdom teeth can wait till May to be plucked out (ok, cut and wrenched out would be a better description, but plucked makes it sound so simple and painless). The bad news: that I have wisdom teeth in the first place. They aren’t very “wise” teeth, either, to be coming in like that without my wanting them. If they were smart they’d find a way to come in without being hard to brush and without causing infections or cavities. The pain in the ass teeth would be a better name.

So… afterwards we went to Artifacts and I found a volume of Catullus’s poetry, but it’s a different translator… but it was only a dollar so I bought it anyways.

Then we had a visit with Grandma R., who is definitely worse from the last time I saw her. I got a little, well, nostalgic and stuff, and it was difficult to see her in such a different state from how I’d like to remember her. But we did it— I suppose that’s important.

An old woman came up to us in the Alzheimer’s unit and kept asking Mom “what is it?” She was curious about the fabric of Mom’s coat… Then she came up to me and touched my coat which I was holding and she was rather excited about it. I told her it had some wool in it. I guess she enjoys fabrics or something. Then another woman in a wheelchair was sitting in her room in the dark and one of the assistants came up to her to ask what she was doing. And she said “I don’t know but it must not be right.” That made the assistant laugh and say it was a good answer.

We also saw our great uncle, Johnny… Who’s pretty sharp with his quotable comments, although he pauses before he speaks. Very cute fellow, Johnny.

The little jabs continue, as Tim will simply not take his boots off and he tracks in snow which melts which I step in and which causes my socks to be damp. I hate damp socks. But, I soon will be back, fending for myself in MA, pros and cons to both locations…