Reality Bites

Silver sunlight sparkles on the still surface of the water as the bow of the boat slices smoothly through it. I hear you approach from behind. You rest your hands on my shoulders, gently massaging them, “Coffee? Wine?”

I smile, “Surprise me.”

Long, heavy, leaden branches droop lazily into the canal, overburdened with foliage and blossoms. A verdant paradise of scented sensory stimulation. I close my eyes and inhale the perfume, listen to the soft lapping of the water, feel myself lightly rocked by the motion of the barge.

I hear you sink into the chair next to me and I turn to open my eyes and look at you. You are holding out a glass of sparkling white wine, cloudy condensation dripping down the glass. I take it and raise it in the air.

“To you,” you say.

“To us,” I reply and we clink a toast.

Its effervescence tickles my nostrils as I take a sip; sharp bubbles bursting on my tongue and catching in my throat making me cough slightly. Giggling I swallow and watch you as you look out at the scene before us; ducks and swans swimming amicably alongside us, green tendrils trailing beneath the surface of the water.

I feel content, relaxed and happy. Everything is just how it should be. Everything feels right.

A loud voice shatters my peace, “Now then! Time to take your vitals again, up you sit,” the strong, forcefully cheerful Dublin accent of the nurse breaking through my dream. Unwelcome, familiar pain floods my body as I struggle to sit up, my mouth parched, lips cracked.

Reality crashes in.


Copyright, 2016,

All rights reserved

Word For wednesday (W4W) #72


Play along here!

This week’s word is:


Last week, after suffering in silence for way too long, I went to the dentist to investigate my very painful tooth. He looked, asked some questions, did a test that LITERALLY lifted me out of the chair with pain and told me I had cracked my upper molar due to clenching and grinding my teeth – bruxism.

I was appalled to hear he was going to give me a root canal, but realising that there was no other way to save the tooth I complied.

This is my second root canal. I had previously cracked the lower molar, directly underneath this one. And yes, that too was caused by bruxism. I am a hopeless case!

I am trying to become more aware of the clenching but it seems to be a totally unconscious habit of mine. I spend most of the day with my jaw clamped firmly tight and always, always forget to wear my mouth guard at night.

I can now explain my constant headaches, neck aches and tension all along my shoulders.

I need to break this habit. I need to chill the fuck out and quit breaking my own teeth!

And it ain’t cheap! My first procedure cost €1400 and last week saw me wave good bye to €630, with an additional €500 if I get it crowned at a later date.

Any tips are greatly appreciated!

Meanwhile, if you suffer too, here are a few notes about bruxism.

Ciao!    😬😬😬


Copyright, 2016,

All rights reserved.

Word For Wednesday (W4W) #69


Play along here!

Yes, I know it is Thursday!

Apologies for another late W4W but I have good reason! Read on…

This week’s word is:


As you will probably know if you are a twitter friend, because I have been telling all and sundry of my woes this week, I have this –


I really shouldn’t be typing or tweeting or using my right arm much at all. The pain is intense, but as a chronically right handed person I am seriously struggling to NOT use my arm!

On Monday I had the pleasure of having my GP administer a cortisone injection directly into my shoulder joint. Yes, a two inch needle pierced my skin and sank balls deep into my poor inflamed tendon. I can tell you the sensation of 80mg of milky liquid being pushed into your tendon is not for everyone. A strange burning pressure. The worst part was afterwards; the pain seriously spiked as I paid the receptionist, (and not because I was waving goodbye to €50). The OH watched from the car as I left the surgery and said I was freakishly pale. I love pain yes, but not this type!

Two days rest and I can actually raise my arm to shoulder level again! It is stiff, and after ripping apart a whole chicken into portions for curry, a little sore, but seems to be on the mend.

It is funny that I am not remotely a 40+ year old male labourer, the most common sufferer.

I think, seeing as my pain stems from RSI from typing and tweeting, they should include bloggers and social media addicts to the list of at risk groups!

So, seeing as I have been suffering, you guys forgive my tardiness, right?

ps – you have no idea how tempted I was to have a different W4W this week… seriously, look at the number we’ve reached and remember that underneath the greying hair and ever increasing wrinkles of this blogger lies a weird little 14 year old boy freak… snigger!



Copyright, 2016,

All rights reserved.

Word For Wednesday (W4W) #45


Play along here!

This week’s word is…


I used to be very nervous about going to the dentist. I think it was because, as a child I had some very bad habits – drinking undiluted Ribena, eating jam straight from the jar with a spoon – and needed more fillings than the average kid. Add to this the fact that my dentist was an older gentleman with massive gold teeth and the hairiest nostrils known to humankind, who, while administering the anaesthetic injection, pretended to inject and numb his own finger EVERY SINGLE TIME, and it starts to piece together maybe.

As a result, once I was no longer under the care of my parents I made a point of only seeing a dentist if I was in agony. This, of course, was a very silly strategy because, as we all know, prevention really is better than cure.

Fast forward to about 10 years ago when my dentist informed me that I needed a root canal, which had to be done over the course of three hours, followed by the fitting of a crown, all carried out by a specialist that had to be brought in to my local surgery. I was not best pleased. She told me the only alternative was to lose the tooth, which basically sealed the deal.

The OH knew I was nervous, (read terrified), and bought me my first iPod, loaded with all my favourite music to distract me during the procedure. Surprising myself more than anyone, I sailed through it! I found the experience strangely calming, settling, tranquil.

The specialist told me afterwards that she had never in her career had a patient remain so still and calm during a root canal. I seemed to have turned a corner!

A few years ago I was told that my wisdom tooth would have to be removed. It was growing at such an angle that meant the surgery to remove it carried a real risk of permanent facial paralysis. Once again, you can imagine I was less than happy to hear this. Armed again with my iPod, off to another specialist I trotted. The worst part of the procedure was how much he had to stretch my jaw to get at the offending tooth, he split my lip and left me looking as if I had gone a round with Mike Tyson. But even the squeal of the drill didn’t bother me this time. I didn’t even use the iPod. And my face moves as much as it ever did!

I had a dental checkup appointment this morning, (yes, I am a good girl these days and go regularly), as well as a routine scale and polish. My dentist these days is a lovely, motherly lady who calls me “pet” and “good girl” rather than use my name. I think she is a delight! She entertains me with a constant stream of consciousness as she works on me, fully aware I cannot reply as she has wedged my mouth wide open with a strange plastic and latex implement. She seems happy with an occasional eyebrow raise as acknowledgment or agreement.

I actually enjoy going to the dentist now as I always receive praise from her on my oral hygiene and health. I really, like… really, enjoy the sensations of her poking my gums with that sharp doodah she uses to check gum health, and as for the sting of the scraper thing she uses… oh man! It is divine!

As I write now I wonder if the fact I am a masochist submissive has had any bearing on my change of perception? I enjoy the semi painful treatment, I tingle at the sounds of drills and jets, I delight in being told I am a “good girl” or being called “pet”…

Could it be that rather than being a dentophobe I am in fact a dentophile?

Am I Bill Murray in Little Shop Of Horrors?“>

Am I a freak?



Copyright, 2015,

All rights reserved.

My Demon


This sums me up.

I have an insanely self-destructive nature. Always have had, for as long as I can remember.

I self-sabotage, self-harm, repeat mistakes whilst fully aware that I am doing so. I drive myself, (and people who care about me), crazy.

I have one massively self-destructive habit in particular that I simply cannot seem to shake off.

My Dark Demon.

I am aware of it; actually, it takes up far too much space in my head every waking, (and frequently dreaming), moment.

I know I need to stop it. I need to confront it and deal with it.

It is detrimental to my health and well-being, emotionally, psychologically and physically.

I have tried to fix this on my own with zero success but I am loath to seek any help from outside.

Why? I do not know.

I tend to think I am a strong person with most aspects of life. I have overcome more than my fair share of adversity and survived.

I generally have this attitude to life:


But this one thing lingers.

Sits on my shoulders and weighs me down.

I feel unable to find that power within myself. It feels impossible. Hopeless.

I know this week is not the week I will conquer this demon, but I truly hope I’ll get there… sooner rather than later.


Copyright, 2015,
All rights reserved.

Writing this was meant to help me focus and work this out. Seems I have failed at that too!