me, without dentures:

(in the os tradition of 'TMI')

I went to the big city, Hartford, with Big Sister L. to get my head examined. It was an inconsequential CT scan, as those ‘cat scans’ go. I told the technician I did not need to be strapped in; I went to a peaceful place in my mind...Bosnia, as it turns out....

(My extracted tooth roots are adjoining my sinuses. So I tend to get water coming out my nose. I don’t care, but the dentist lady in town, Dr. Khan, a sweet lovely lady, cannot tighten the upper denture til this issue is resolved...)

……………….

 here is how i felt on the 'ride in':

Sis took me. She is newly retired, finally, after forty yrs in the insurance industry, & now able to spend time with me, and her new beau, and of course Georgie puppie. 

We made quite the pair. I wore my hat.  She wore a fluorescent yellow raincoat on her tiny frame.

“Admitting “was our first stop once we had found a parking spot on the damn roof of the hospital garage. Sister is an impatient driver, tends to curse like a sailor behind the wheel of her big black suv.  

We parked and glided in to the hospital. I did my best polite rube to the Hispanic lady behind the desk, and was called in by one darn attractive blonde foreign looking lady in black pantsuit.

“Mr. Ammerliney?”

“Yes, me ma’am” I said, and popped up and jumped to attention and followed her willingly...

“If you please, come over back here, sir.’

…………………………….

She had glasses on. And she was what we call a ‘big city girl’, me and     sis.   We learned that from Mom. Mom, incidentally, had come to this hospital for radiation for her breast cancer.

That foreign accent found its way right to my heart.

I sat immobile and did as instructed. As I always do, except…well…

When a boy must take action, is all I shall say…

………………………

She was typing away, but her left thumb was bandaged.

She got the insurance stuff.

Then she had to make a call to confirm my dentist's order.

She giggled and said into the phone, “oh no not me, a mr. ammerly I have here in my office. Silly…” she looked at me. After the call , she said, “oh, that lady thought it was me who needed the ct scan. Hah”

‘Not you! No, me. Yeaah…uh…it is me who must get his head examined!” I took the hat off.

“Yah, you. Hee hee. Silly person.’’ (who, me or her phone pal?)

Then came the crushing shit for a bachelor , a guy on the loosest kinda loose there is: psychotropical medications...an extra one, as a matter of fact, for this adventure..

‘’You do not work, yes? You are disabled?” she said, professionally.

“ah correct. But…ha ..not as disabled as you , with that thumb!”

“Oh yes!yes. I was slicing the vegetables and cut it.”

“oh dear. Did it bleed a lot?” I said though I knew it did.

“Yah, like you would not believe! I do not know why this should be so,” she said, typing me up, “ but yes”

“Yah it is no doubt the fact that the hands need a lot of blood, cuz they gotta do a lot! Right?”

“oh ha yes.”

I shall not tell you what my warm hands were thinking of doing.

…………………………………

Uh, signing things! I did so.

…………………………….

I had to leave Bosnia.

“A lovely place in this world, I hear’ I murmured to her noncommittal ear. I sure as hell did not pursue this…

…………………………….

Back to sis.

‘’ that was quick!” she squeaked.

………………………………

This is the same hospital where she brought her dying husband for years.

Alas.

She was hunched up over her New Yorker magazine.

I said, “how far behind are u now?” Regarding her self-appointed task of reading every article in every New Yorker...

“ugh, jimmy, November last year, “ she said. Our hippy sister and her beau got her into the New Yorker, and also new York, which is a place I never wannna go again, thank u.

“oh L, “ expansive and erotic, I said,as some lovely little tiny woman marched in and said, “Mr Emmerling? “,

“You got a lot of reading to do indeed.”

“shut up. You got like 3 magazines in yer bag,” she snapped, hard, like a lady turtle.

“Mr Emmerling?” said the tiny gal.

“Yes ma’am! Ah, miss I mean!”

L. hunched in her magazine. I said, just to get this queen German bitch of the universe riled good and hard---a dear brother’s duty----- “L, I hope u remember where we parked, and what all this ‘ticket validation’ means, and  wish me luck, pleeze”. Hah!

She scrunched down further. “Go get yer head looked at , Jimmy,’ she squeaked.

……………………………..

Nice lady took me.

Not a bit of a problem.

…………………………

Results due tomorrow. Stay tuned . I hope I remember to call the dentist back, the guy who will get a ct scan of my head, a useful f-ing organ, I find. I am slightly interested in the judgement.

........................

on the ride out, me: