It is, indeed, an insane world. I lost a tooth to this disaster yesterday. My dentist closed shop on the day of my appointment. Last year I had told her she should exit from the market. Suggested, maybe, precious metals.
I pulled on her locked door and called to see if I was simply too early. While I sat in my car and waited—she called.
“I called yesterday to tell you I’d be closed,” she said.
“Well—it looks like I’m going to have to take a hammer and chisel to this tooth; it’s going South,” I answered.
“It can’t wait until I reopen?” [the date for reopening at the time was in early April.]
I was aggravated and said, “What did I say? It’s going South.” [I have this nasty habit of not wanting to bother people even if I’m in distress.]
“Did you clear out of the market?” I inquired.
I don’t remember what she said next.
“Did you buy precious metals?” I asked.
“No they’re too expensive,” She replied.
“THEY WEREN’T LAST YEAR WHEN I TOLD YOU THIS WAS COMING!” I was a bit angry.
[I’m an abstract/visual thinker. There are now companies that hire such folks who are able to determine market trends on “patterns” of trade rather than financials.]
I made an appointment last week for the extraction. There’s a good orthodontist close by. I went yesterday, and he told me it was a good thing I did what I did because the tooth was mildly abscessed. [And, of course, by now re-openings had been pushed into May.] I then asked him about extracting more teeth. I’m concerned that dentists soon will not be allowed to treat those of us who can’t be vaccinated. I’m old, and my top choppers are on their way out. It’s a financial as well as a medical decision.
“I need to get [so-and-so] your dentist on board with that,” he said.
I murmured, “Of course,” but I found myself mildly irritated at the idea.
I now realize that someone who can benefit financially from my being forced to keep my worsening teeth and did not have the good sense to follow my advice last year has a say in whether I have to bear a financial burden I cannot afford. [May be time for the hammer and chisel after all.]
He asked me about pain-killers. I reiterated the fact that I can take no pharmaceutical products as they are currently formulated. An antibiotic mouth rinse? I again had to decline. Today’s antibiotics have made a mess of my lungs, and I fear even a rinse.
In the End, I am far more afraid of what people are becoming capable of than I am of this virus.
To that end:
I am a perennial student of human behavior—I find it fascinating—and have degreed in psychology.
I am observing people shriveling up into themselves—absolutely terrified of human contact. But there is an undercurrent that can be seen in faces that tells me it’s not the virus of which they are afraid-it is the authorities handing down the mandates.
I can almost visualize what happened to the German people during those war years. I can almost taste their fear as it becomes mine. I’m waiting for the Gestapo Neighbors to emerge. I think I’ll hunker down—shrivel up, and wait for this [hopefully] to pass.
I know what I’m seeing is what I call my “Onion Syndrome.” People want to believe if they keep their heads down and obey, whoever is doing the onion-peeling will never get to their layer of the onion—or at the very least—the peelers will be kind when it comes to their layer. It is survival—and not of the fittest, but of the quietest.
It doesn’t work, Folks—we are all on the dinner plate and onions are just so damned delicious.