Recently, I saw my artwork on a product at an Armenian market in my neighborhood. The illustration was probably purchased through Getty stock where I have a large library of images. Most sales are less than $5.
My first title for this post was: “I’m No Longer Flush.”
When life holds challenges, the best way for me to get through them is with positivity. I especially appreciate laughter and believe that humor is great way to alleviate stress.
Last week, I had my second root canal in one month. (The month before, I was laid up with an allergic reaction to an antibiotic given for an infection from a new crown.)
Even though I knew what I was in for, I was very relaxed. After injecting a lot of Novocain in my mouth, the dentist went out. The assistant came in and asked me if I’d like some music on. I nodded. When she asked me what artist I’d like, I mumbled, “Judy Unger,” and then I added, “That’s me!”
It took her a few minutes, but she finally typed my name correctly. I often hear that my last name is Younger or Hunger. Both of those could fit!
My meditation album showed up on the screen above. There was a lot of irony when my song “Hang On” was playing. I felt so emotional, that I wanted to cry and laugh at the same time.
Eventually, the dentist came back in. With my mouth sounding like marbles, I told her that the album cover was a painting of mine and I had created the music, also.
She exclaimed, “Wow! You are so talented!”
I responded, “Thank you! I love pursuing my creativity. And that probably explains why I am on Medi-Cal.”
This dentist let out a guffaw, followed by full on laughter. She wiped her eyes and said that artists certainly deserve to be paid more.
If I didn’t have financial assistance for all this dental work, I would certainly need it after all the procedures I’ve had recently.
I currently live in the coop where I grew up. I like to envision my small place as “my castle.” I lived in a relatively giant house in comparison for over 20 years. My current bedroom is smaller than my former walk-in closet. To walk to the kitchen from my former bedroom, meant walking a distance to the stairs and then walking even farther to the kitchen.
But now I am queen of my castle. It’s only 10 steps from my bedroom to the bathroom or kitchen. I love it!
My next challenge happened a few days later during a peaceful evening. I cut up a ripe pineapple and enjoyed forking pieces of it from a bowl near my computer. I stretched and decided to head to the kitchen for a glass of water and to put the bowl and fork in the dishwasher.
I stopped to use the restroom on the way to the kitchen. And that’s when my problem happened. It was like lightning!
I stood up, scooped up the bowl and fork, and flushed. And in an instant, the fork flew off the bowl and disappeared right down the toilet.
I looked into the empty bowl, fully expecting that I could reach in and pull it out.
But it was gone. I shook my head and felt a bit shocked and foolish. I wasn’t sure what to do next.
I sent a text message to my good friend, Stacey, and told her what had happened. She told me she’d check with her husband, Bill and tell me what he said.
Stacey texted back that Bill thought it would be okay, since it went all the way down. I breathed a sigh of relief. And that was that.
That was until the next morning when my younger son (who lives with me), tapped on my door and said, “Mom, there’s a problem with the toilet. It’s not flushing.”
My heart sank. Dare I tell him about my foible? I said, “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it, honey. I’ll call a plumber!”
One of my handy friends suggested I try a magnet. I decided if I went fishing in there it might make things worse. I was immensely relieved that a plumber would be coming later that morning. I only had one bathroom and thankfully, there was a community bathroom outside.
When the plumber arrived, I was embarrassed explaining how the fork went down. His eyebrows went up, but he told me he was hopeful he could get it out. The worst case scenario meant an entirely new toilet. I crossed my fingers he could find the fork.
It ended up costing me $350. He removed the entire toilet after he retrieved the fork, and then resealed it. Ouch! I couldn’t believe how in just a second, I had just watched a wad of money go down that toilet!
The plumber smiled coyly when he held up the fork and said, “Would you like it back?”
Without hesitation I exclaimed, “NO, THANK YOU!”
Before that morning, I had never laughed so much by myself. I must have sounded like an insane woman. It took courage, but later in the day I told my son what had happened.
I texted my friend, Stacey, and let her know that the fork turned out to be a problem. Bill was wrong about that. Stacey said that she and Bill were rolling with laughter.
Bill said, “A fork? I didn’t hear that a fork went down the toilet. I thought you said it was a cork!”
Oh, boy! What a great image. There I was, popping champagne in my bathroom!
