It’s been an insanely painful yet hysterical last few days.
Blood, screaming, cursing, fast driving, needles, then laughter pretty much sums it up…
But I’ll start from the top.
Our four year old nephew had a baseball practice at a park near our home, so we grabbed the dogs and made our way to the field.
It was a gorgeous afternoon. The smell of the fresh blooms drifted through the air as young families gathered to enjoy the most of the afternoon sun.
My young niece and I played on the slide before the little slugger was up to bat. I kneeled down to her as we watched him take a few swings.
I thought to myself, we should probably move. If he hit a foul ball in the opposite direction we could get hit. As I leaned forward to balance myself up, I heard “look out!”
Holy mother $*@#!
There was blood everywhere. Down my arms and legs, chest, all over my face and neck. My upper and lower lips split open. My mouth was in excruciating pain.
I was in shock. Did this seriously just happen?!
People around me frantically grabbed towels as my husband starting calling every dentist we knew. My first thought was, where the hell are my teeth?! Then vanity set in. Do I need braces again? Will my teeth turn grey? Wait, where the hell are my teeth?
We raced to see Dr. Glen Gallimore. He numbed my mouth and got to work. The tooth in question… my #8. Ironically, #8 is also my nephew’s uniform number (insane, right?!) Thankfully Dr. Gallimore was able to save it. I was damn lucky my nose didn’t break, or my eye sockets for that matter. Dr. Gallimore took his fingers and knocked/dragged/slammed everything back into place. Sweet Lord.
We got in the car, took one look at each other, and laughed. Well, mine was a pathetic whimper. We couldn’t believe it. I looked at myself for the first time in the mirror. Damn. Can I get come pain meds up in here!
When I got home it was all about sleeping. And soup. For about a week after it was mostly a liquid and soft solids diet. Soup, gelato, more soup. Oh, and lots of straws.
My husband has found some nice humor in all this. He calls the swelling my “Resting Duck Face.” Watch out, Instagram.
Oh, and I look like one of those Housewives chicks. Air kisses, anyone?
After a few days, I graduated to sushi and other small bites. You never realize how much you use your front teeth until you lose them! (Pass on the edamame, FYI.)
Humor aside, it’s been a blessing in disguise. And I’m not just saying that to be a smart ass. I had been burning the candle at both ends. Working hard at the station, but working on even more projects at home. I was beyond sleep deprived. Honestly, I needed to be knocked in the face to realize a few things.
One of them… Giving up control. Control of my schedule. Control of the way I sleep (Dude, sleeping 3 hours at a time SUCKS sometimes.) Control of… What I thought I had control over.
And being on TV and stressing over my looks? Out the damn window. “Hi, you have grey teeth. There are bigger things going on in the world. Grow a pair and deal.”
Truth be told, some of the greatest blessings I had been praying my tail off for came when I was posted up on the couch, puffed up pucker and all.
God works in the strangest ways. Especially when you get the crap kick out of you.
I’ve been able to catch up with dear friends. Work things out with family. Make big plans for the future. Did I mention sleep?!
So this little cutie right here did a few wonders in my world.
He signed the ball and said “Aunt Stefy, you need a glove.”
Kid, you’re right.
We all need a glove for baseball, and to catch the stuff in life that matters.