So, about a month ago, I chipped one of my teeth. After a short period of mild panic, I called the dentist and got an appointment for him to check it out. Sure enough, I would need a couple more appointments to get the problem (and a few other minor issues) fixed. I guess that’s what I get for not visiting for a few years.
Well, after a bit of waiting, the time had finally come – my week of appointments. This morning, I got myself to the dentist office for Part 2 of the appointment series – finishing the fixing of the tooth. After a freezing job that left one side of my face feeling nothing, and yet ridiculous at the same time, and an hour and a bit of holding my mouth open, it was all done. I stood up from the chair and went to go talk to the dental office receptionist. That’s when my personal pity party began.
When I tried talking, my speech was slow and slurred to the point that I sounded drunk (thank you, freezing). I was having trouble swallowing and moving my jaw and had a bit of a headache from being tense for so long (I don’t exactly find dental work relaxing). I was still tired and a bit grumpy from waking up an hour earlier than normal. I was hungry from having not eaten breakfast (a full stomach and the dentist don’t mix well when I’m in the middle of the two) and I had a less than pleasant taste in my mouth. Despite half my face being frozen, I miraculously found a way to pout and make some serious puppy eyes all the way to the Cathedral office.
When I got there, God bless the wonderful people in this office, they were lovingly sympathetic to my plight. My pity party had expanded to include people who were not me. It felt great! Donna, who had switched her schedule around to come and cover my desk in the morning while I was at the appointment, told me that a pity party was sometimes just the thing that was needed to feel better. While I agree with her, I am also conscious that I am a diva who can be seriously insufferable to be around when in full Diva Mode.
In times like these, I try to remember an epiphany I had back in University. I had it whilst contemplating the Golden Rule: If I am to treat others how I like to be treated, then I have to set the standard with how I treat myself. Similarly, if I am to love my neighbour as myself, then I must treat myself with love, compassion and mercy (and maybe even a bit of sympathy from time to time). However, I don’t mean to make it sound as though the Golden Rule is an excuse for selfishness or going ‘Full Diva’ – the Golden Rule has two parts for a reason! As such, I always try to keep in mind that the health, the happiness, the joy that I cultivate in my self care is meant to bear fruit in how I treat others.
Thank God for little pity parties. Here’s hoping that when the time comes, I will remember what my pity party is actually for.
