The cost of living
A wisdom tooth is coming down sideways. For years she wasn’t moving and I was fine with that, a little bulge in the gum back there I could feel with my tongue tip but no worries beyond. But she recently pierced through. And now I’ve to ring the dentist and invite more monetary white noise into my life. I’ve another appointment about a separate issue with another dentist up North next month. This will be the summer of teeth ateing my pay cheque as soon as it arrives.
I keep coming across infertility stories in my media - some sought as I’m writing a fictional thing, others just coincidence. They remind me that a hospital I attend as a self-paying private patient took my blood this time last year for tests, including that egg count one, but my doctor still hasn’t given me my results. When I ring various offices I get no answers. My emails go into the ether, I imagine a room so white it glows. They still took about €220 off me and sent me to another place that took about €350 off me. That shower have also not told me what my body says about me either. I left that private hospital by the car park (I genuinely could not find a pedestrian entrance) and just before I crossed the threshold onto tarmac, I saw a plaque honouring a past and future Taoiseach’s involvement with opening up a wing here. What an odd country.