My Body Is Falling Apart

It's a sad fact, but true. What I was looking forward to having happen to me in the future has come fifty years early. Europe has taken its toll on me and aged me severely. I am ailing.

*Disclaimer: If you don't want to pity me, don't read this. Also, some descriptions are maybe weird and kind of gross (but not really). If you have a problem with that, don't read this.

I blame the cobblestones for my first bout of problems. Though they appear quaint when you see them in pictures and in period films, they are uneven and difficult to walk on, even when in sneakers. It is for this reason that I believe they caused my knee-joint pain. This, combined with constantly walking up and down hills, something I have not had to do since I lived in Duluth, created for sharp pains shooting around under my kneecap like quick bolts of lightning with each step. Luckily, though, the pain passed and my knees feel as though they are back to normal. Or at least they have grown used to the irregularities that come with quaintness and adjusted accordingly.

My second ailment occurred a few weeks ago. After realizing that I "itched all over," I found red bumps on my legs that only appeared after I got home from class, though that had disappeared by morning. At first, it was shingles scare, though after Dad ran through the symptoms with me I realized it was possible. I eventually pinpointed the cause to be an allergic reaction to my new, comfortable-for-lounging sweatpants that have now become my new, useless-unless-I-want-to-itch-uncontrollably sweatpants.

My third ailment is along the lines of shoes. I came here with two pairs of sneakers, and within the first month of my time here, they both decided to fall apart. This left me with very little time to find a replacement pair of everyday shoes. What I found was a pair of teal Converse that fit me length-wise perfectly. In time, I realized that, despite fitting me in every other way, they squinched my baby toes in to the rest of my toes and rubbed against them so it felt like the skin was about to be rubbed off. To give my baby toes a break, I would switch to wearing my Aldo "Inca" (ankle) boots from New York. Good idea in theory, BUT I have worn them so much that I have worn them down so that when wearing them, I am almost stepping directly onto the ground. Therefore, by giving my baby toes a rest from the rubbing, I am instead forcing the skin to be rubbed off the bottoms of my feet. They receive no respite.

My final ailment is most disconcerting to my belief. Six months after having had my wisdom teeth removed, I eat a bagel chip at the wrong angle (this happened on Wednesday), and now, the empty gums where my wise tooth once laid has begun to swell. I have been eating cold things and waiting for it all to subside. Luckily aspirin halts the throbbing and I have high hopes that this will clear itself up, much as the joint pain and allergic reactions stopped themselves (the shoes will be an ongoing problem, I am sure, and I therefore have no hope that it will cure itself). Time will tell. All I can do is be happy that, while 1/4 of my mouth feels similar (though to a lesser extreme) to the way it did when I had my wisdom teeth out, I do not look like a chipmunk this time.

It's a wonder that I've survived this long.

wisdom teeth--be smart

The other night after dinner, I made the mistake of telling a story about when I had my wisdom teeth removed. "You have problems with your teeth?" my host family worried. "No, no," I assured them, "it's just something we do in America. Most of the college-age kids get them out. It's no big deal." "But why are you getting them out, then?" "Well, because sometimes they don't fit in your mouth and if you leave them in it will mess up your other teeth."

I decided it would be too complicated to try to talk about infections and to go into much more depth, but they kept asking me questions. "It's just something we do. No other reason. I'm fine, my mouth is fine. Everything is fine with me. Lots of people have it happen."

"Well," my host family said, "I have a friend and he has a -- what you call it? It takes pictures." "An X-ray." "Yes, an X-ray machine. He is a dentist as a hobby" (I really hope he meant profession) "and if you want, I could take you to him and he could take pictures of your teeth with this X-ray."

"No, really it's fine. My teeth are fine. I've been to the dentist since I had them out--" (a white lie, though one that I felt was completely necessary to keep them from worrying about my teeth) "--and they said everything's fine."

Their faces were lined with worry over my dental needs.

"Really? Because sometimes you need to see what other people say. A few years ago I went to different dentist and he found things that ...." I couldn't quite understand what was happening after that point.

Moral of the story:
Do not discuss unnecessary surgeries with people from foreign countries. It is confusing and only creates stress on their part over the fact that the person living with them has less than adequate dental health.

The end.