I am 44 years old this month and I have what is likely an impacted wisdom tooth. Isn’t that supposed to be a problem for 20-somethings? How did I end up in this position?
Well, probably because I was once an “invincible” 20-something and I put the matter off for later-me to deal with, since it clearly wasn’t bothering me then. There’s probably a lesson in there somewhere.
As it is now, I’m alternating ibuprofen and Tylenol every three hours, which is a practice based on probably-now-outdated advice, but it was given to me by a dentist the last time I had a problem with a wisdom tooth 20 years ago. I wouldn’t advise taking the advice without checking with a professional who is more current.
The regimen is working well enough to allow me to focus on my slightly-heavier-than-normal workload and get a few hours of sleep each night, but my tummy’s not real happy with it. On the other hand, I am definitely drinking my daily recommended allowance of water.
I just have to keep it up long enough until I can get in and be seen by a professional who can remedy the situation once and for all. The sooner the better, Dr. Google tells me. Side note: Never look up your ailments on Google, unless you want to walk away convinced you have the rarest version of whatever problem you have and you’re dying next week.
Trouble with “the sooner the better” in my case, though, is that I have to plan it before it becomes a true emergency. And we all know emergencies don’t give a hoot about plans, so this is a risky game I’m playing here. But it’s dawned on me that there are certain parts of my job that cannot be done by anyone else. And even some things which could be delegated, it would take time to teach and communicate expectations.
Ok, that’s actually great! Now I’m aware of something I can do to make it easier the next time I have to take unexpected time off.
But for now, I have to plan around the status quo. Which means I have to wait until Wednesday. Assuming there’s an opening for me that day.
None of this is to complain. It’s actually got me thinking about resiliency and grit. The conundrums we face that build our character.
I have an abnormally high pain tolerance (something about red hair, I’ve heard), but when I do register pain, I am an insufferable baby. And I am mean. Just ask my spouse and dogs. It’s not pretty.
But I guess I must be building some character somewhere in this mess because I haven’t snapped at anyone except the hound dog who wouldn’t quit barking at the delivery driver, and I promise, I would have snapped anyway.
I guess I’m also using this trial as an opportunity to let go of some things I don’t need to hold quite so fast to, like the standard of “perfection” or the need to answer every single notification on every single platform that dings me. I’m conserving my energy and resting as much as I can.
I’m also being extra mindful of my self-care — which isn’t something that comes naturally to me. I’m more inclined to take care of everything and everyone around me. But I’m trying to remember that in order to do that, I need to make sure I’m OK first.
So I guess it’s not for nothing, this tribulation of mine. But let me tell you, if I could go back in time and shake some sense into 24-year-old me, I’d be hard-pressed to deny myself the chance.
Living in a land inhabited by folks whose reputation for resilience stretches back generations, I can’t help but feel a sense of connection. Not that this is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to plow through in life, by any means.
But it is something I think on when the opportunity presents itself — which is to say, when I have to show up and do the work because people are counting on me, regardless of how I feel: I think of the cracked hands kneading down dough for bread and rolls, worn by hard labor, and those same hands gingerly touching a child’s cheek in affection. Or the burnt arms and back of someone who’s spent years of his life working from sunup to dinnertime under the hot sun, but now comes home to help his youngest child learn to ride a bicycle until the last of the day’s light fades away.
And then there are the folks I spend my time around every day. If resilience is the ability to withstand adversity or bounce back in tough times, then putting up with my cranky self ought to be enough to check that box for them.
But in all seriousness, I recently watched someone I know, who has a trick knee, trek 3/4 of a mile up and over a hill and and then back again, twice a day for four days during which 6 inches of snow fell. Why? Because someone’s dog needed to be fed and they were out of town. Someone else I know stayed up all night just about every night for several weeks with a colicky baby, worked from home to get a head start on the day, showed up at the office, and went home on lunch to give the other parent a break, all while sleep-deprived. That’s resilience.
Now, what about you? When you hear the word “resilience,” what do you think of? What memories and stories does it conjure for you?
