Laylah Lavan - (Sleepless Night)
You want to know where I have been? You really want to know? Ok… So I think a brief recap is required. Thursday night was a fun filled evening out with the ladies to a couple of bars in Tel Aviv, before we split off into those who wanted to eat and those who wanted to swim. I was one of the ones who jumped into the warm Med and had a little paddle before realising that everyone else was there to relieve themselves whereas I just wanted to enjoy the warm water… which became less pleasurable once I began to realise how piss warm the sea was… ok enough dipping my head under the water now. So after we all got dressed or finished our post alcohol feast, we walked back to my apartment where I quickly showered off the sand and wee, and then collapsed into my bed… time 4am.
4.30am – I woke up with an aching in my jaw. Look over to see Eli fast asleep on the mattress on the floor next to me. Looked at the clock to see I had only been asleep for half an hour. Tried to go back to sleep
4.40am – Sleeping is not an option with the pain getting worse I get up out of bed, pour myself a drink and get the Advil in hand and walk into the lounge to watch TV for a bit. I hope that Nooman doesn’t walk in as I could not find my clothes in the dark.
5am – Try going back to sleep as watching the TV seemed to help the pain ease off.
5.10am – Ok now I am starting to feel crazy…the pain is back once I put my head on the pillow. I get back up another drink and start crying because I have no more drugs in the apartment to take.
5.20am – My eyes are aching and I just want to sleep. Maybe rinsing my mouth with Cordisil will help
5.30am – Back in bed I try to put my mind above the pain and somewhere else so that I can get a little shut eye
5.50am – Why the fuck is Eli still asleep!! Wake up and give me some sympathy! I now cannot stop crying and am seriously thinking that I am going crazy… maybe Ginrod and I had one of our drunken play fights and she punched me in the jaw… no I would remember that, I mean I did not have that much to drink. Ok I am going crazy!
By 6am I had officially given in to the pain. Sat on the sofa watching Sky News, crying over the pain that was only getting worse and worse, and wondering who I could call and what exactly they would be able to do to help!
Eventually it turned 7am, and I decided to give up, take advantage of them being so close, and called my parents for some mummy and daddy sympathy. They tried their best to calm me down and suggested that I come home. Not the best thing to suggest to the stubborn Little Miss Graham, who has always seen ‘coming home’ as admitting defeat and returning to sucking my thumb, stomping my foot, and standing in the corner huffing and puffing over my misfortunes. But after initially politely declining my parents' kind offer, I decided that I could not wait for Eli or Nooman to wake up… I mean on a Friday morning the only people you can really rely on to be awake before noon are the mummy and daddy, so at 7.30 I got dressed grabbed my bag and car keys and headed to Ra’anana to find the cure to my pain.
There’s No Place like Home
I arrived at my parent’s place at 8am to my father walking towards me, arms outstretched, wrapped in his Teffilin, almost like the Cohanim blessing the children of Israel. My father gave me a big bear hug and a kiss and I knew I had made the right decision to come home. Mum came running down the stairs in her PJ’s cooing “My poor Channahboo, My poor Channahboo”, and we all sat on the sofa while I gave them a brief history of my pain and how I was beginning to think that I was crazy.
Despite the fact that on a normal day, in a normal situation, my parents are generally the first people to make me go crazy, when I am crying and thinking that I am totally insane, they are in fact the best people to make me realise that I am in fact totally sane… well not 100% sane, but enough that they don’t worry about leaving me alone with sharp objects. Anyway, after a lot of crying and talking and sobbing and moaning, and my dad laughing at me as I called myself Bubba Gump, my parents suggested that I call my dentist on the off chance that he was in the surgery, and see if I could get an emergency appointment.
Exactly 10 minutes later my father and I were in the surgery of Pearl and Dental. Even though he had had 4 emergency calls in, I was the first one there… well I was a true emergency, so I was placed straight on the chair, where I sobbed to my dentist about the pain I was in. I stressed the word pain, as I was hoping he would give me some barely legal painkillers to sooth my pain, and let me get some sleep.
Five minutes in the chair, and it was conclusive… I had to have root canal! I was naively relieved to hear the news. Well at least I was not insane! Little did I know that the pain that I had experienced was only the tip of the iceberg… hmmmmm I never did get those painkillers! Instead I got a dose of antibiotics, and two appointments to have the procedure, which I was a little freaked out about as everyone kept referring to as an operation. Operation?!? I planned my life around avoiding ever having an operation and only ever having to go into hospitals to visit other people or to give birth, and even then I am thinking the homebirth method would be better… well more calming for the mother to be anyway.
Despite the fact that I now knew that my pain was real, that there was a cure, and that my sanity was still in tact, there was the small issue of the fact that the pain was very much still there, none of the standard painkillers were helping, and the lack of sleep was making me go insane! Call in mama to the rescue! Mum immediately got on the phone and called her friends on the chance that any of them might have some spare sleeping tablets. Within two phone calls we had found the drugs and I was on my next mission to go and collect them, get home and into bed before the wave of severe pain started up again… sucking on an ice cube had lulled the pain a little.
Finally I was in bed swallowing half a sleeping tablet, switching off my mobile, and allowing the little pill to take me far away into blissful sleep that I had bee deprived off for so long… I totally understand how people can get addicted to this pill… it is pure heaven! Zzzzzzzzzzzzzz
That’s What Friends Are For
I decided that despite the fact that my parents had been amazing, and that the bed the made up for me was more than comfortable, especially with a few sleeping pills in me, I really wanted to be in my own bed. Plus when I finally returned to the land of the living and switched my phone back on, I realised how many people were concerned about my welfare back in Tel Aviv, and lets face it, numbers do count, well two is better than one and 5 is better than 2, so I decided that I would go home and give my friends a chance to pamper me with their sympathy.
Do not underestimate the power of sympathy my friends. When someone is sympathising with your pain, giving you the ‘poor you’ look, and asking if there is anything they can get you or do for you, it does help. Ok so yes I was still in the most amount of pain that I have ever been in my life, but the fact that all my friends were concerned about me soothed me enough so that despite the pain I did not feel the need to cry anymore. Well at least while they were all around. Later when I was trying to sleep and the sleeping tablet was not working (shit I think I am already immune to them!) all I could do was cry. Nooman tired and ready for bed was at a loss, and offered to sleep in my room with me to calm me down. Calm me down it did not, but I did for the first time in 48 hours feel the urge to burst into laughter. “Thanks Nooman, but I don’t think your presence in my room will be the breaking point of my pain… nice try though ;)”. When I later told my dad what he said my father responded, “Cheeky devil! That is an old school attempt… I thought better of Nooman.” But in his defence, snuggling with someone would have made me feel a lot better, ok not ‘a lot’ but somewhat soothed… but I was not in the mood to play lets pretend with Nooman, but you have to love him for trying.
Even friends from England and the states called in to check up on the invalid. Seriously I am feeling very honoured and spoiled right now. My ego has re-inflated and despite the severe pain I am happy in the knowledge that if I died today there would be a nice amount of people crying over the grave. Although… please note that in my funeral requests (known by Eli) I have stated that there should be no boo hooing at my funeral… just lots of drunken laughter and talking about the funny things I once did before being shot dead by a jealous lover (this is my fantasy death ok!)
Anyway, I had the root canal done under a lot of anaesthetic and laughing gas, and now that the worst is over I am thinking that I am in need of some rehab. To all my friends and family who realise that root canal is more painful than mosquito bites, I love you all so much and promise that I will return to my non moaning self once I have weaned myself off the painkillers and sleeping pills.
You want to know where I have been? You really want to know? Ok… So I think a brief recap is required. Thursday night was a fun filled evening out with the ladies to a couple of bars in Tel Aviv, before we split off into those who wanted to eat and those who wanted to swim. I was one of the ones who jumped into the warm Med and had a little paddle before realising that everyone else was there to relieve themselves whereas I just wanted to enjoy the warm water… which became less pleasurable once I began to realise how piss warm the sea was… ok enough dipping my head under the water now. So after we all got dressed or finished our post alcohol feast, we walked back to my apartment where I quickly showered off the sand and wee, and then collapsed into my bed… time 4am.
4.30am – I woke up with an aching in my jaw. Look over to see Eli fast asleep on the mattress on the floor next to me. Looked at the clock to see I had only been asleep for half an hour. Tried to go back to sleep
4.40am – Sleeping is not an option with the pain getting worse I get up out of bed, pour myself a drink and get the Advil in hand and walk into the lounge to watch TV for a bit. I hope that Nooman doesn’t walk in as I could not find my clothes in the dark.
5am – Try going back to sleep as watching the TV seemed to help the pain ease off.
5.10am – Ok now I am starting to feel crazy…the pain is back once I put my head on the pillow. I get back up another drink and start crying because I have no more drugs in the apartment to take.
5.20am – My eyes are aching and I just want to sleep. Maybe rinsing my mouth with Cordisil will help
5.30am – Back in bed I try to put my mind above the pain and somewhere else so that I can get a little shut eye
5.50am – Why the fuck is Eli still asleep!! Wake up and give me some sympathy! I now cannot stop crying and am seriously thinking that I am going crazy… maybe Ginrod and I had one of our drunken play fights and she punched me in the jaw… no I would remember that, I mean I did not have that much to drink. Ok I am going crazy!
By 6am I had officially given in to the pain. Sat on the sofa watching Sky News, crying over the pain that was only getting worse and worse, and wondering who I could call and what exactly they would be able to do to help!
Eventually it turned 7am, and I decided to give up, take advantage of them being so close, and called my parents for some mummy and daddy sympathy. They tried their best to calm me down and suggested that I come home. Not the best thing to suggest to the stubborn Little Miss Graham, who has always seen ‘coming home’ as admitting defeat and returning to sucking my thumb, stomping my foot, and standing in the corner huffing and puffing over my misfortunes. But after initially politely declining my parents' kind offer, I decided that I could not wait for Eli or Nooman to wake up… I mean on a Friday morning the only people you can really rely on to be awake before noon are the mummy and daddy, so at 7.30 I got dressed grabbed my bag and car keys and headed to Ra’anana to find the cure to my pain.
There’s No Place like Home
I arrived at my parent’s place at 8am to my father walking towards me, arms outstretched, wrapped in his Teffilin, almost like the Cohanim blessing the children of Israel. My father gave me a big bear hug and a kiss and I knew I had made the right decision to come home. Mum came running down the stairs in her PJ’s cooing “My poor Channahboo, My poor Channahboo”, and we all sat on the sofa while I gave them a brief history of my pain and how I was beginning to think that I was crazy.
Despite the fact that on a normal day, in a normal situation, my parents are generally the first people to make me go crazy, when I am crying and thinking that I am totally insane, they are in fact the best people to make me realise that I am in fact totally sane… well not 100% sane, but enough that they don’t worry about leaving me alone with sharp objects. Anyway, after a lot of crying and talking and sobbing and moaning, and my dad laughing at me as I called myself Bubba Gump, my parents suggested that I call my dentist on the off chance that he was in the surgery, and see if I could get an emergency appointment.
Exactly 10 minutes later my father and I were in the surgery of Pearl and Dental. Even though he had had 4 emergency calls in, I was the first one there… well I was a true emergency, so I was placed straight on the chair, where I sobbed to my dentist about the pain I was in. I stressed the word pain, as I was hoping he would give me some barely legal painkillers to sooth my pain, and let me get some sleep.
Five minutes in the chair, and it was conclusive… I had to have root canal! I was naively relieved to hear the news. Well at least I was not insane! Little did I know that the pain that I had experienced was only the tip of the iceberg… hmmmmm I never did get those painkillers! Instead I got a dose of antibiotics, and two appointments to have the procedure, which I was a little freaked out about as everyone kept referring to as an operation. Operation?!? I planned my life around avoiding ever having an operation and only ever having to go into hospitals to visit other people or to give birth, and even then I am thinking the homebirth method would be better… well more calming for the mother to be anyway.
Despite the fact that I now knew that my pain was real, that there was a cure, and that my sanity was still in tact, there was the small issue of the fact that the pain was very much still there, none of the standard painkillers were helping, and the lack of sleep was making me go insane! Call in mama to the rescue! Mum immediately got on the phone and called her friends on the chance that any of them might have some spare sleeping tablets. Within two phone calls we had found the drugs and I was on my next mission to go and collect them, get home and into bed before the wave of severe pain started up again… sucking on an ice cube had lulled the pain a little.
Finally I was in bed swallowing half a sleeping tablet, switching off my mobile, and allowing the little pill to take me far away into blissful sleep that I had bee deprived off for so long… I totally understand how people can get addicted to this pill… it is pure heaven! Zzzzzzzzzzzzzz
That’s What Friends Are For
I decided that despite the fact that my parents had been amazing, and that the bed the made up for me was more than comfortable, especially with a few sleeping pills in me, I really wanted to be in my own bed. Plus when I finally returned to the land of the living and switched my phone back on, I realised how many people were concerned about my welfare back in Tel Aviv, and lets face it, numbers do count, well two is better than one and 5 is better than 2, so I decided that I would go home and give my friends a chance to pamper me with their sympathy.
Do not underestimate the power of sympathy my friends. When someone is sympathising with your pain, giving you the ‘poor you’ look, and asking if there is anything they can get you or do for you, it does help. Ok so yes I was still in the most amount of pain that I have ever been in my life, but the fact that all my friends were concerned about me soothed me enough so that despite the pain I did not feel the need to cry anymore. Well at least while they were all around. Later when I was trying to sleep and the sleeping tablet was not working (shit I think I am already immune to them!) all I could do was cry. Nooman tired and ready for bed was at a loss, and offered to sleep in my room with me to calm me down. Calm me down it did not, but I did for the first time in 48 hours feel the urge to burst into laughter. “Thanks Nooman, but I don’t think your presence in my room will be the breaking point of my pain… nice try though ;)”. When I later told my dad what he said my father responded, “Cheeky devil! That is an old school attempt… I thought better of Nooman.” But in his defence, snuggling with someone would have made me feel a lot better, ok not ‘a lot’ but somewhat soothed… but I was not in the mood to play lets pretend with Nooman, but you have to love him for trying.
Even friends from England and the states called in to check up on the invalid. Seriously I am feeling very honoured and spoiled right now. My ego has re-inflated and despite the severe pain I am happy in the knowledge that if I died today there would be a nice amount of people crying over the grave. Although… please note that in my funeral requests (known by Eli) I have stated that there should be no boo hooing at my funeral… just lots of drunken laughter and talking about the funny things I once did before being shot dead by a jealous lover (this is my fantasy death ok!)
Anyway, I had the root canal done under a lot of anaesthetic and laughing gas, and now that the worst is over I am thinking that I am in need of some rehab. To all my friends and family who realise that root canal is more painful than mosquito bites, I love you all so much and promise that I will return to my non moaning self once I have weaned myself off the painkillers and sleeping pills.
And just a little final note to the end of this seriously long blog:
June 27th 2006 – My 2nd year Anniversary of Aliyah!!!!!
6 comments:
first off... mazal tov on the 2 year anniversary... second we gotta celebrate.... and we will on Thurs night. Buy you a drink (stiff one)
Thanks bubba... unfortunately I will still be on the antibiotics, so I will have to take a raincheck on the free drink :)
But it is my birthday in a couple of weeks, so you can buy me two ;)
fo'sure. does this mean now we're going to have a party for you? or a quiet weekend away w/ lots of alcohol good friends and good food?
hmmmmm decissions decissions... will have to be discussed. Maybe we will have a pow wow about it on thursday night... but either way alcohol will be included in the plans...
I ain't gone into rehab yet! ;)
is that post coming out in paperback?
i only pretended i had sympathy so i could steal your car when you were konked out from pain pills to make out with 16 year old Yeshiva boys from NYC. It was hot.
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