All Things Ron

If you know anything about me by now, you’ll know that I generally avoid doctors unless I’m at the point where I think it’s deadly serious. The pain has to be pretty intolerable for me to suck it up and seek medical attention.

Such has been the case with my mouth.

I would occasionally experience what I believed to be wisdom teeth growing in for a period of 2-3 days followed by the subsiding of whatever pain it would bring. Usually it doesn’t even bring pain… just some tightness in my jaw and then fading to nothing until it happened again sometimes months later. Sadly, this routine was ended a few weeks ago.

About three or four weeks ago, my perceived wisdom teeth pain had come back and come back hard. My jaw was incredibly sore. The pain was so intense, I sometimes became delirious with how much it hurt. Instead of going to a doctor, I convinced myself it would work itself out after a day or two and I’d be fine. At one point I even developed a bit of a fever and the pain didn’t really go away.

Slowly but surely, however, it did. I went on living and everything was great. Well… great until last Sunday when it came back. This time the pain started out in the lower right side of my mouth. Feeling around with my tongue, I could sense that a tooth was breaching the gum and I was then convinced it was my wisdom teeth growing in. Isn’t that stuff supposed to happen when you’re younger? I’m almost 30 years old! Luckily, the pain only lasted a day or two before jumping back to the left side.

Of course, I use “luckily” in the loosest sense of the word. The left side became incredibly sore and I had had enough. I let it go for a few more days and delayed the inevitable. “If it gets any worse tomorrow,” I wrote to someone, “I’ll get it looked at.” Sure enough, the pain wasn’t subsiding and I had hit my limit.

Having no dental coverage, my options were limited. I could see a general physician and just get something for the pain while ignoring their recommendations to see a dentist. I could also choose to go to the hospital and see what they had to say on the matter.

I was told by my sister and her friend about this place not far from my house. They deal with people who don’t have coverage. Welfare cases, people on disability, immigrants, refugees… no paperwork? No problem. They work on a cash basis but don’t provide any receipts. I figured that all I was going to do was get it looked at so paying for some x-rays wasn’t going to break me.

I called them last Friday and made an appointment for the next Friday. I read on their website that they also take emergency cases. I called back and asked what constituted such a thing. “An emergency would be severe tooth pain, usually.” Well that sold me. I went in ASAP!

We took the x-rays and within minutes of sitting back down in the chair, I was handed a form detailing the procedure for the extraction.

WHOA. WAIT A SECOND. EXTRACTION?!

I hadn’t even spoken to the dentist after getting the x-rays! Maybe they were talking about someone else? Maybe they got me mixed up with someone else? Surely, I wasn’t getting a tooth pulled!

The dentist came back and my only statement was “So. Tooth extraction, huh? What’s THAT about?” I don’t know if she could hear the nervousness in my voice. She then pointed out that my two lower wisdom teeth needed to be removed because that’s what was causing me problems. My head began to spin. While I KNEW deep down that this was going to happen, I think I didn’t really accept it. Maybe I was in a state of shock. This was just happening WAY too fast.

I asked how much it would cost and they explained that it was $20 for the x-rays, and $90 per tooth. I told them that I wasn’t comfortable with the idea of them taking out TWO teeth let alone suffering through the one. After some serious hesitation on my part, I signed the form. I knew it had to be done.

As I waited for the novocane to work it’s magic, I paced outside while calling a friend. I was in the midst of an anxiety attack (I really hate dentists) and needed someone to talk me down. Eventually I knew I had to go back and face the music and so I did.

I sat in the chair, took a deep breath, and hoped it would go by quickly.

I don’t know how long these procedures generally take but I think mine took an hour. And it wasn’t quite as smooth as I was wanting it to be.

I’ll save you the squeamish details and put it in bullet form (ok… still may be squeamish):

- She used a hell of a lot of effort to try and pull it out. I felt her arms quivering.
- Something had to give… unfortunately, it was my tooth. She snapped the crown right off.
- She couldn’t get the rest of the tooth out so she called for the drill. THE DRILL!!#$
- Another dentist came in and noticed the tooth was hooked on a piece of bone so he cut away at it with said drill.

So… yeah. An hour later, I was missing a tooth. I sat in the chair for a good 10 minutes afterward simply in shock over what had just happened. The super hot dentist assistant (dental technician?) remarked “Wow! That’s a BIG one!” when looking at my tooth. I was so stunned that I couldn’t even muster a weak “That’s what she said.”

The recovery has been alright, I guess. They prescribed fifteen Tylenol 3s for the pain and said that if I ran out and it still hurt, call them and they’d refill the prescription. In terms of pain, it hasn’t been too unbearable. I expected there to be a LOT more pain the next day following surgery but there wasn’t. My jaw hurt more like I was punched in the mouth instead of missing a tooth.

My jaw still hurts if I try to fully open my mouth. I haven’t eaten solid foods all weekend and I could use a good meal. Other than that? It’s not ridiculous. The pain has now become very minute and flares up only at night. I’ve run out of the painkillers but have decided that instead of taking them, I’ll stick with Super Strength Motrin to get me through the day. While they may not be as strong as the Tylenol, it doesn’t give me dry mouth.

At least the swelling has subsided. I didn’t want to go to work today and look like the Elephant Man!

If the rest of the wisdom teeth don’t hurt, I’m not going to go through this again. I’m stating this now. Ugh.

But this post isn’t all Doom & Gloom™…

Drop Dead Gorgeous by December

I’m not big on challenges. I find I join them only to fizzle out and disappear off the face of the planet feeling ashamed I ever joined it in the first place. This one, however, is one I’ve decided I can’t quit.

The aim of the challenge, started by Jess at HalfofJess.com, is to not focus so much on “winning” by losing whatever weight and meeting a specific goal so much as it is a self-empowerment/betterment challenge. Don’t focus solely on the outside but try and become all around awesome inside and out.

The challenge runs from now until December 19th. One of the key components for the entire challenge is saying positive things about yourself and acknowledging your own awesomeness. I find this to be the most challenging for me because I don’t have very high self-esteem. In fact, it’s fairly non-existant. I have a lot of self-confidence, sure… but the esteem is definitely lacking. I really and truly want to fix this. I don’t know how… but I will.

This is the first image in a series of weekly images that I have sent in. The caption is something I truly believe (despite the self-esteem issues) and one that you should ALL remember as I leave you now.

They call me Rontastic because “fantastic” just doesn’t cut it!

I’ll give you a more coherent update in a few days. I promise!

Focus is the name of the game. No matter what it is you do in your life and no matter the task, it requires your complete and undivided attention at any given time. Some people are born with the talent to handle any situation and give it their all while there are others who struggle to stay on track and see things through to the end.

If you happen to be like the first group of people who can concentrate and get things done? Congratulations. If you find yourself sometimes lost and without direction… well, I can sympathize with you.

It’s no secret that I suffer from a lack of focus. There are times when I get easily distracted and a day of productivity is shot. This isn’t easy to live with and it’s not easy to just shake off and change overnight. Sometimes maintaining focus takes a lot of… well… a lot of focus!

Even when writing that last sentence and moving on to this one, I managed to fit in 3 videos from YouTube. It can be pretty ridiculous at times. Sometimes I just have to close my eyes and rely on my typing skills to get me through a paragraph.

I’ve been doing a lot of reflecting as of late and even went digging around online. In one form or another, I’ve been blogging/journalling since 2002! It’s kind of crazy to think that for eight years I have been writing and posting it online for others to see. While some would argue that I write about certain topics to achieve reactions or comments, I can honestly say that I write because it’s my only release. I don’t speak to therapists or counsellors nor do I have any physical outlets to channel my emotions. I have a keyboard, a text editor, and a place to put the finished writing. It may never be the most appealing thing to read but it is what it is.

When I switched platforms and began blogging solely about my journey to lose weight, I called it the “100 lbs. Challenge.” I had given myself one year to lose 100 lbs. The process was going very well. I tracked what I ate and the exercises I did. I chronicled every time I lost weight and reported when things were going a little slow. Things became hampered when I got sick. I ended up coming down with the flu and found that slipping back into working out four days a week a giant chore. When my school schedule changed with the semester, I found it even harder to find my groove. In the few months that I was really sticking to plan, I had managed to lose 20 lbs and as the summer progressed (without the blog), I managed to drop down another ten. I wasn’t held strictly accountable but I still somehow kept at things. It was sparse. I felt like I was cheating myself when I had so much potential to do more. The truth is that despite becoming distracted with school and getting wrapped up in my relationship at the time, I never put aside the time to focus on myself and do what needed to be done.

Time went on and I eventually decided to switch platforms yet again and redesigned RonBarker.ca making the blog the focal point. In my mind, I was probably putting the gym ahead of everything else and taking the stand that things had to change. I immersed myself in a blogging community that, at it’s very core, is about losing weight and becoming healthier and helping each other in the process. I would drive to the gym for midnight workouts and while I didn’t see a significant weight loss, I still thought it was better than nothing. At least I was getting out. Eventually the car situation fizzled and I had no simple way to get to the gym. Rather than sucking up the fact I would have to take the bus, I just sat at home and became complacent.

The blog started collecting dust and posts became about stuff outside of the scope of the original intent. I vented, I ranted, and I let loose on whatever was going on in my life whether it be about love, the frustrations of living at home, or drama with people in my life. I let all of these things become a huge distraction and I used it as an excuse to lose focus of what it is I really want to do: lose this damn weight once and for all.

Fast forward to today. Right now.

As I write this, I no longer worry about how I’m going to repair my car with little to no money. I don’t feel overwhelmed wondering how I’m going to put gas in the tank. I am not bogged down by overdue papers and assignments for school. There is no “special lady” in my life that I dote on and go out of my way for. The drama has been cut from my life and I’m no longer wrapped up in anyone else’s problems.

Everything that I saw as a distraction or a hindrance has mostly been removed and all that’s left before me is a bike I can ride to a gym that costs me nothing. I have a work schedule that is wide open and allows me plenty of time to lift weights, run cardio, and sweat these pounds off.

There are no more excuses as to why I can’t lose this weight. Some would argue that there never really was.

I debated deleting all that has come before this post in an attempt to forget about the past and maintain focus for the future. While I thought a fresh start and a clean slate would be ideal, I decided against it. While I have detractors and doubters (both anonymous and known), I respect their opinions and understand where they’re coming from. I’m not so oblivious and sheltered that I can’t recognize other perspectives.

This is the fourth incarnation of this blog. This is the version where I chronicle the ACTUAL loss of my weight. This is the one where I write about the workouts and the one where I change how I eat.

Not everyone is going to be a fan and not everyone is going to believe me. The bottom line is that as long as I believe in myself and believe that I can do this, I will.

House-sitting was supposed to be easy.

Lounging around in my sister’s house while having access to her vehicle so I could roam the city streets if I got bored of the scenery. Only responsibilities were to feed the cat and the fish.

Easy.

The car was actually a bit of a curse. Her landlord parks his truck in such a way that fitting in a giant Jeep Grand Cherokee next to it in a tiny laneway was nearly impossible. I say “nearly” because I managed to get it out/in one time. I needed the help of a spotter to do it just to make sure I didn’t hit the truck or the fences surrounding the spot. When I managed to get it out a second time (with the help of a spotter), it was impossible to get back in. I even may have been in such a position where had I gone forward, I would have scraped the door with the truck’s bumper. I gave up and parked in a lot down the street. This simple luxury of vehicle access was now costing me money on top of it’s horrible fuel economy.

The saving grace of the weekend was hanging out with my friend, Dave. We worked it out in such a way that I would stay at his house from Friday night to Sunday morning thereby eliminating the need of driving long distances, paying for parking, and just being alone in a strange house where a cat was terrified of me. It went fairly well. I enjoyed Friday and Saturday was even pretty good despite a hangover. There was a UFC event on Saturday and we watched that at his friend’s house on a massive big screen TV…

… and then the car died.

… in another town.

… at 12.30a.

As we pulled out his friend’s house, the car began to sputter as the battery indicator started to drop. The lights on the dashboard dimmed and it just felt like it wasn’t going to make it. I made the decision to pull over and see what was going on. As I tried to start it back up, it made some strange noise and decided it wasn’t going to. Great. I knew there were issues with the car but I hadn’t experienced any. After trying to hit the starter a few times, the car just wouldn’t give. We got a boost from his friend and while it started just fine. As soon as you unhooked the other car the battery would go ahead and die out again.

We got a ride home from Dave’s friend. I became a little panicked wondering how I was going to get the car back to the city. My dad has a lot of friends with tow-trucks. I figured that because she is his favourite child, he would come to the rescue and help out. His big help: “Well it’s your own fault. You should have just left it at her house.”

So… yeah. Stranded car. It was picked up this morning by one of his friends. My sister had to arrange this all from OVERSEAS because my dad has been utterly useless.

Speaking of my dad, he’s been great for the ol’ self-esteem. He’s repeatedly called me a loser, a bum, a freeloader, pathetic among other things this entire week. Granted, I have called his ‘parenting’ in to play with respect to how he’s watching my nephew.

I’ve also been verbally berated by one of my oldest friends claiming that I’m a hypocrite, pointing out why it’s “obvious” that I’m alone, etc. I don’t have the patience or time to be called names by someone who claims to be my friend just because I refuse to listen about the douchebag she married. For the record, I said very clearly and in no uncertain terms that marrying him would be the worst decision of her life. Verbal and physical abuse. Signs of infidelity. That’s all fine and good… but a little “I don’t want to talk about this” from me is a no-no.

It was a good friendship while it lasted.

The upside to all of this has been Sarah. I’m glad she’s been around to help me weather the storms and to keep me from losing my mind completely. I’m grateful to have come to know her and be there for her just as much as she’s there for me. I’m not going to get all mushy though. So this is all I’m going to say!

I need to get back on top of things. On top of writing, on top of blogging, on top of exercising… I just need to get back on top.

Expect another blog post tomorrow concerning working out and how that’s going. For now, I must pretend like I work!