Perspective

I practiced dentistry for 23 years. Most dentists stay with it longer than that, but health challenges forced me to retire and pursue other outlets. Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining. I've been thrilled to be able to paint and write (passions for me for several years now) since my full-time "retirement". And I love being able to swim in my pool anytime I want when the sun is actually out, not after I return home from a long day at work and Florida thunderstorms spring up, curtailing any chance to dip in the pool. So I've learned to count my blessings and enjoy everything that I can.

During my practice of dentistry, I loved to perform surgeries. I especially loved to experience first-hand the body's ability to heal. What I didn't love about surgery is the mess you can get into quickly if you're not absolutely careful. Even when you're extremely diligent and perform every step according to protocol, you can get in trouble quickly.

The biggest problem was excessive bleeding. Patients weren't always forthright on their medical histories and didn't think it important to let me know they were on a daily regimen of aspirin to thin the blood. Until the blood wouldn't stop flowing from a seemingly benign surgery. "Oh, yeah!" they'd say. "I take a baby aspirin, only one a day. I didn't think it mattered." Guess what--it matters.

Awakening people after putting them under could also be scary. Sometimes, they just "forgot" to tell me that they took a little anti-anxiety medication on their own. Or that they had a former drug or alcohol addiction, all of which affects the ability for them to wake up easily after I've pumped other drugs into their system. These times were the most scary, when I couldn't get someone to respond. I took appropriate measures and everything always worked out okay, but for those couple of minutes, there were more prayers going up from my operatory than 1000 Muslims could offer at prayer call. It was literally a matter of life and death. Trust me, I do not miss those episodes.

That's why I don't get too stressed about anything in my life now. If a painting doesn't work out how I wanted it to, or doesn't get accepted into a show the way I'd hoped, or a novel isn't coming together and I have no idea where to go next in the storyline -- mmph, none of it is life or death. It's simply a puzzle to be worked out. Nothing more, nothing less. A puzzle. A challenge on life's roadway to wherever. So what if a piece of paper gets ruined? It's only paper, and if I paid attention, I probably learned a very good lesson in what not to do next time. When I spend hours upon hours crafting a novel, only to be told by an editor that 45% of it was deadwood that needed to be chopped, then I learned a lesson in that, too. But none of it was a matter of life or death. None of it.

I'm a much happier person now, not holding someone's life in my hands. Well, actually God holds their life in His hands, so I always did my best to be an active partner in those scenarios and plead with Him not to let that person slip into a coma or die. I'm so glad He never let that happen.

Next time you get highly upset about something, ask yourself--will the outcome mean life or death? If not, don't sweat it. Just do your best and it'll all fall into place.

This and That

I've been reflecting the past few weeks on this blog and all the great experiences that I had on my trip, then I realized I left out some interesting tidbits of info. Maybe no one else will be interested, but I'll record these for posterity anyway.

* All of the public bathrooms that I used in the U.K. (and Paris, too) had total privacy doors. As in, there were NO cracks anywhere around the door where anyone could peek in. I loved it and wondered why the U.S. can't do the same. I think that public restroom doors in the U.S. were designed by perverts. Seriously.

* If you plan on using the bathroom there at a train station (including the tube and metro), have some coins ready because it's going to cost you.

* As long as we're on the subject of bathrooms/restrooms, if you need to use one, don't ask anyone to direct you to the bathroom or restroom. They'll look at you like you've grown two extra heads and smell really foul. Just ask them to direct you to the toilet or the loo.

* I promise -- this is my last entry regarding bathrooms. I think. Anyway, the toilets are quite different from those in the U.S. They are extremely deep from the seat to the water reservoir where waste lands. This results in no "splash backs" if you know what I mean. And the flush handle? There usually isn't one. Instead, it's a button on the top of the water tank.

* When riding the tube (or subway) in London, there is usually a small gap between the platform and the train. They remind you of this by announcing "Mind the gap." Same thing for the overland trains.

* Whenever you have to take a taxi, don't call them cabs. No one will know what you mean.

* When a taxi driver stops to pick you up, don't automatically try to get into the back seat. They'll roll down the passenger-side window first to find out where you're going before they let you in their taxi.

* When you're driving -- sitting at a stoplight, there is one main difference from how it works in the States. In the U.S., the light turns from red to green. In the U.K., the light turns from red to yellow to green. The yellow signals that drivers should rev their engines so as soon as the light turns green, they're off!! Reminded me of being at the racetrack, or should I say, being a driver ON the racetrack.

* In London, when you're waiting to cross the street at a traffic light, look down. Painted on the road in large letters will be "Look right," to remind you which way the cars are coming from. If you get to a median in the middle, on the road will be painted, "Look left." I was thankful for this reminder more than once.

* Almost everywhere I went in England, if I was driving or someone else was driving, you have to pay to park. And it's not a simple coin-operated machine at the front of your parking space. It's a large machine, usually at the far end from where you've parked (or on another floor if it's a multi-floor parking garage). Wherever it's located, you are obligated to find it, pay your money (exact change only; some of them take credit cards), take the ticket it spits out at you, then walk back to your vehicle wherever it may be and place the ticket inside the car on the front dashboard where it can be seen.

When I spent a couple of hours in Bourton-on-the-Water, I got sick and had to leave with two hours of paid parking still left on my ticket. Parking was at a premium that day (i.e., hard to come by), and I'd no sooner gotten in my car then another car sat, waiting for me to leave so he could get my space. I grabbed my ticket, got out of the car, walked back to the waiting car and handed the driver my ticket, saying, "Thought you might want to use it since it's already paid for." He and his wife thanked me profusely. They also looked shocked.

* I think no matter where we travel in the world, we're all pretty much the same deep down. While on the tube one afternoon, I surreptitiously watched a father and son have a conversation in a language that I had no clue what they were saying. Tone and body language said it all, though, and I could figure out about 80-90% of what they were discussing by those two alone. Words? Who needs 'em.

That's all I can think of for now. I'm sure there will be more as I reflect on it.