been having dental fun. a tooth broke after fillings (misspent youth) gave way. and the tooth couldn't be saved, so it was pulled last monday. and because of the mysteries of dry socket (dry soscket = pain), I've been back twice already, to inspire healing and be done with it. so okay, I have whinged: with pain you grow. anyway, when I was waiting the other day, an elderly womnan came in with her son. she talked loudly so getting swept in was unavoidable. she was nearly deaf so everything her son said had to be repeated. and her memory was porous, so his every question met with a cheerful, blithe even, I don't know. the son was not the usual one to deliver her places. a daughter, somehow unavailable, was the regular one to perform ferrying. he spent most of the time consulting his daytimer and asking her about her schedule, which consisted of upcoming medical visits, of which she had plenty. his mother asked about the rest of the family, and neighbours, happy to chat. the doctor appeared and she greeted him happily, introduced her son the replacement ferrying agent. all this is quite familiar to me. today another elderly woman was in. she was less frail. she was trying to schedule some dental work for her husband, who was in the car (I saw him as I entered). he had lots of doctor visits planned as well. she was concerned that the dental work that her husband needed would prove too much spread over 2 visits. while she was negotiating, in comes her husband. he used a cane, and wasn't too wobbly, but he was out of breath just from the trip from the car. he inquired where the bathroom was then told his wife that he left the car unlocked because he had to go to the bathroom in a hurry. I have no graceful synthesis to make of this. parents of special needs children have a way of finding each other. at least, when you are feeling down about the difficulties, you find someone who's had similar experiences. same goes for those who care for their parents. I remember once seeing a woman helping a much older woman along the sidewalk, I'll assume mother and daughter. the mother walked with difficulty. I think I was waiting for them to pass, not hurrying them at all. the daughter looked at me and smiled a smile of consummate patience. I could only think how often my emotion was embarassment or frustration or just plain weariness in similar circs. I know that's not cutting myself slack, but you see, it all is very hard, very very hard.