Gratitude in Eating

You may think that being a “Pollyanna” is easy.   Before I go on, “Pollyanna” is a book written by Eleanor H. Porter.  Pollyanna was always finding a reason to be glad due to her very optimistic outlook on life despite whatever circumstances came her way and with her sharing this viewpoint, she succeeds in changing the world of others.  After the book and the movie, Pollyanna became a noun and an adjective for an optimistic outlook.  I am a Pollyanna.

I did not come by it naturally but rather through many years of living, experiencing, and surviving the events that show up in a life if you make it through your early years.  I have embraced being a “Pollyanna”.  I applaud the idea of finding the good in everything.  For in somehow doing so, I have found that my world has opened up, my heart is freer, my mind is more restful.  There are still days when my “Pollyanna” is hiding, whimpering in a forgotten closet but somehow she pushes back her shoulders, straightens up her backbone, and with a steadying breath heads out the door of the closet leaving the moths, the musty drawers and once favorite garments that have not been worn for years alone.

A recent example of my glad, my gratitude was brought to the front when I lost my dental bridge of some 45 years on a Sunday morning.  I had been experiencing some doubtful thoughts about the dental bridge earlier this year and had gone to my dentist in January to have him look about.  Dutifully, he tried wriggling the anchor tooth in the front and declared that he could not see a problem at the moment (it turns out he should have checked the back tooth).

I was listening to a Portland classical music station on the fated Sunday morning. I sat eating a slice of bread with my almond butter when it happened, the dental bridge came loose in my mouth. I sat not moving as my tongue explored this broken, hard stranger hovering in my mouth full of bread.  When I removed the foreign body, I realize that coated with partially chewed bread and almond butter was my dental work.  This was not a good thing no matter how you look at it.

 

I went to the bathroom where my man was still soaking in his tub of bubbles and shared my news before promptly shifting into my “Pollyanna” mode. 

“My bridge fell out”.  I declared to him holding the traitorous, useless party in my hand. 

“Oh, that is not good,” was his sympathetic reply.

“Pollyanna” replied, “This is good.  Because it did not happen while we are eating out with your mom after church.  It did not happen when we are traveling to Indianapolis to see my Julie and I am not in any pain.”

My husband went back to reading his book and soaking in his tub.

After sharing the news with my husband, I called the dental office leaving a message.  The next morning on Monday, I was able to get in and after a brief exam, my dentist declared that crowns for the front and back tooth was in order with a future dental implant between.  Lucky me, I thought watching dollars fly through the air as my days ahead were lined up.  I was given another appointment for the next day, Tuesday (things happen quickly when you are spending money).

Tuesday morning with the dentist happily starting to work on the back tooth when I heard him say to the dental assistant, “Well, you don’t see that often,” then a quick revised statement, “I have never see that before, have you?” There is a quick affirmative answer to the negative. Fortunately, I was not left out of the conservation.  Doctor stated that he would be doing a quick filling, don’t eat on it and I would have to have an extraction as the tooth was crumbling. One filling later and a crown prep I was out the door contemplating the days of eating one sided, arguing that soups are good, the world is filled with soups and that I like soups.  “Pollyanna” was right there.  “Well, you are not in pain, you have money and you like the oral surgeon. “  She was right, it was a good day.

I was fortunate, the back tooth such as it was did not develop an infection nor did I experience any pain. I was given an appointment for the oral surgeon.  Over a month later of careful eating, remembering that soups are good, I arrived in Corvallis to see the doctor. We were guided to a room and the assistant brightly asked me, “So are you ready to get this tooth out?”  My response was, “Really,” my next eager answer was, “Yes.” Both my husband and I had thought that appointment was just a consultation. Remember “Pollyanna”? She was really glad.  She was thrilled, jumping up and down with excitement. Yes, excitement over the impending extraction of the traitor in my mouth. Despite the wonderful needle pricks to deaden my mouth, my joy was high, nearly spilling out my mouth if it could have worked its way past the blocks holding my mouth open, the oral surgeon with his hands and extraction tools, drills and whatever else he might have been using lodging in my mouth.

 

One hour later with a large hole in my jaw, we were headed home with prescriptions to be filled for antibiotics, a mouth rinse (the blue stuff that I had enjoyed during the dental implant episode) plus a little plastic bag of goodies. Soft foods including ice cream, no straw and let the healing begin.

Yes, there would be no more worries about traveling to Indianapolis to see my Julie with a questionable tooth with a temporary filling living in mouth. The future with a long menu of soups spread out before me was disappearing. I was being freed, “Pollyanna” had been my companion throughout the ordeal of the tooth, and both she and I would share in the days to come along with the gratitude of eating.