Adrenaline rush

I had nerves of steel in my 30s. I’d spend hundreds of thousands of dollars on bidding wars for photos of celebrity weddings and babies and barely bat an eyelid.

I’m a little more anxious in middle age.

OK, a lot.

I almost had a nervous breakdown yesterday when a message popped up on my phone at 3.30pm saying one of my kids had specialist’s appointment at 4pm.

The appointment had been booked by my ex and I’d been duly informed, but we’d both forgotten.

To complicate matters, my ex had accidentally left his phone at home. He’d emailed in the morning to let me know, as it was his custody day. He asked if I could text the kids and let them know to call Mum if there was a crisis.

So, of course, there was a crisis.

I went into panic mode as I tried to devise an emergency action plan.

I had 30 minutes to track the child down and get them to the specialist’s appointment.

This is how it went down …

Step 1: text child to establish their locatiion – Dad’s apartment. Not too far away, thank freaking gawd, but not close enough for me to collect them in time.

Step 2: inform child they are due at a specialist’s appointment in 30 minutes, so get dressed FAST while Mum tries to think …

Step 3: Google phone number of ex’s head office and call to break the news, plus seek suggestions on how to get child to specialist’s appointment in 25 minutes and rapidly counting down. Learn child was handed $20 that morning, which probably isn’t quite enough for cab fare. Ex says he will jump in his car and head to appointment as I’d also managed to double-book an orthodontist appointment for our other child.

Step 4: Attempt to install Uber app on phone while frantically asking child what their dad’s street address is … child has no idea where they live six nights a fortnight. Fark! Tell child to go out onto the street and check. Child suggests I just cancel appointment. Er, no, that would cost me $200+.

Step 5: Fail to install Uber on phone after receiving “try again later” message.

Step 6: Run like mad woman through office shouting “Does anyone have Uber on their phone?”

Step 7: Find millennial with Uber app and beg them to book car for child. Thank millennial profusely and hand them $25.

Step 8: Text child and tell them Yi will be arriving in his Hyundai in 4 minutes and will not require payment.

Step 9: Call specialist and apologetically inform them child and father will be 15 minutes late.

Step 10: Check millennial’s Uber app to ensure child has been collected. Affirmative. Child will arrive at destination at 4.13pm.

Step 11: Spend next 20 minutes trying to slow ragged breathing and racing heartbeat.

Step 12: Congratulate self on excellent – if slightly rusty – crisis management skills.

Ah, who am I kidding? My chest was still tight as a drum two hours later.

Anyways, as for the orthodontist … he’s given the go ahead for the youngest’s last baby tooth to be extracted today at noon, with braces to follow in four months time. I’d better get onto buying those lottery tickets.

The youngest was very harrumphy during the appointment because I stole their thunder by asking the orthodontist to take a quick sticky beak at the permanent brace that’s been glued to the back of my front teeth since I was 15.

Dr Sun very sweetly said “ah, so only a few years” when I offered him that last detail. Bless.

My teeth have been aching lately and I wondered if it was because the brace was reglued too thickly late last year. Nup, it’s fine. It’s my stress levels that are taking up too much space in my mouth.

I told Dr Sun that I was considering getting my jaw botoxed to stop the clenching.

He replied: “No need, just drink more champagne!”

He obviously hasn’t read yesterday’s blog post … or today’s …

Anyone know a good jaw botoxer? I don’t want a mediocre one as you risk spending the next 18 months spooning pureed food into your mouth because your face muscles are too frozen to chew.

Song of the day: The Corrs “Breathless”

 

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2 thoughts on “Adrenaline rush

  1. I’ve heard Shebah is good for using with kids, but you did well.
    Do you grind your teeth in your sleep? If you do, you probably need the dentist to make you a splint – like a plate that you sleep with to grind on. I’ve had one for years and it makes a big difference

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