And now it’s the 5th, and it’s SO FUCKING HOT that unpacking my boxes and sorting out my room and the prospect of putting my bed together is far too daunting, so I’m going to continue on with my dentist story instead. Where was I? Oh yes, because it was Xmas holidays, almost all dentists were on holiday, and the ones that weren’t couldn’t fit me in, so I rang up this one and he said I could come in and wait and he’d try to fit me in between patients, and so I said Okay and Mummy very kindly drove me in . The waiting room was jammed full, but after about an hour, they said I could go in. The dentist put sunglasses on me and looked in my mouth, and said that my gums were inflamed because my mouth wasn’t quite big enough for my wisdom teeth, and gave me the option of him prescribing me something to get rid of the infection and sending me away, or of taking the three remaining teeth out now, although that could be a little risky due to the already present infection. I asked him which would make the pain go away quicker, and he said operating now, so I said okay, and he injected me very painfully with painkiller. And then he said “right, well that will last for up to two hours, so go and sit in the waiting room while i see another patient”. Righto. That meant trying to explain to Mum what was going on with a numb mouth, but she finally understood, and said that she’d come back in an hour. Half an hour later, during which time I had sat reading Next magazines and trying not to drool on myself because of course, the lower half of my mouth was numb so I couldn’t manage my saliva properly, they called me in to the office. I tried to spit out the mouthfull of saliva that had accumulated, but I couldn’t control my lips enough to manage that. The dentist started prodding inside my mouth and asking me if it hurt, and I yelped and said yes, but then he touched my bottom lip and asked if I could feel it and I said no, and so he grabbed my top lip really really hard adn made me scream, so he said “I think we’ll judge how the pain relief has worked in proportion to the noises you make” and “since you can’t talk, either it’s working or you went out to the pub while you were waiting” so he poked some more and I declared as loudly as I could that it FUCKING HURT, but he ignored me and got started on ripping out my teeth. I screamed and screamed. He got his nurse to SHUT THE DOOR instead of giving me more pain killer. FUCKER. Oh I was so not impressed. And the noise! And the pain! OWWWWWWWWWWWWW. And then I had to wait another half hour for Mum to show up, bawling my eyes out in the waiting room from the pain and trauma of it all. It was not a fun time at all! But Mum did tuck me up and read to me that night. I’d cried on Xmas Day (well actually, I cried about half a dozen times on Xmas Day) when she disclosed to me that the night before when I’d asked her to read to me and she said “You’re milkign this whole illness thing a little too much” what she actually meant was “I can’t be bothered walking downstairs and getting a book”. Yes, sure it sounds like I am completely pathetic. That is the point that I am trying to convey – how fucking patheticly sick I was. Thank you. Anyways, because I was so sick and stuff, and cos I didn’t wanna risk being stopped by the police without a warrant or rego if I drove to The’Tane for New Years, Mummy very kindly changed my plane ticket which was supposed to be on the 29th up to Auckland to one on the 31st to Whakatane. Actually, that’s not strictly true – my flight on the 29th wasn’t exchangeable, so we just threw it away. How extravagent,and there’s children starving in Africa, I know. Other things that I did in Welly besides be sick? I saw ‘The Two Towers’ at The Embassy, where it was made to be screened, adn it was WONDERFUL. MmmmmmmAragon. I hung out with Anji lots on her birthday, which was cool. I bought Mum and Neil dinner at an Indian restaurant for being so nice to me, even though Mum wouldn’t let me drink because as his final pain giving legacy, the evil dentist prescribed me antibiotics that the chemist warned Mum that I would get very sick on if I consumed alcohol with. EVIL MAN! I’m sure it was all a plan. And what else? That’s about it. I bumped into Si a couple of times on the street, but was too sick to make stick to plans to actually catch up with him properly. He has chrome holes in his ear that I poked my finger through though, so that was fun. I got frosty phone receptions. I slept a lot. I managed to not fight with my mother too much, because being ill meant that we could revert to the traditional Strong Mother/Weak Child roles that make everything so much easier to deal with. And so then on the 31st, I flew up to Auckland, and got on a tiny little plane that was actually much more comfortable and roomy and flew to Whakatane. Brad picked me up from the airport (which looked like a 1970s house) and we went to the supermomarket for supplies and back to his house, where we were met by Justin and Nellie and Lovely Paul and Jarrod and his friend Stuart and Sarah. There was eating and drinking and talking and stuff, and then once we were all quite drunk, we took a taxi van over the hill to Ohope, where there is no cellphone coverage, and went to a scary carnie toga party where people were drinking beer through funnels and tubes so we left quite quickly adn went to a bach where Sarah’s sister was at. That party was much cooler.
