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Posts tagged with: injury

No really… I’m fine…ish.


I went for my dental cleaning this afternoon. Since missing these appointments can be super expensive later *cough* like a root canal *cough*, I always make time.

I was due for my annual x-rays and the tech person was prepping my mouth for the slides. She put the x-ray cards in my mouth, moved the machine near my face, and on her way to snap the photo, she tripped over the cord…

attached to my mouth.

The cord yanked my face into the machine and, well…

let’s just say there was a lot of blood for a queasy person like myself to handle. The fact that it was MY blood only worsened the situation.

‘Oh my…. Oh my…Oh God’ she said while staring at me wide eyed.

The instant shock from the pain brought a rush of tears to my eyes. She ran for some towels and I held them against my head to stop the blood.

‘Here, let me get you a mirror’ she said, running to the drawer.

‘Nope. Don’t think a mirror is a good call right now’ I said, wiping my head and my tears.



‘Heeeeeeeeeeelp!!!!!!’ she screamed into the hallway.

The room flooded with dental folks. All of them taking turns holding the towel on my head.

My dentist sat rubbing my arm, ‘Is there anything we can do? Anything you need? Do you need an ambulance? Oh geez. I’m so sorry!’

I’ve been sued over an injury (not my fault). I know the sick feeling you have when someone gets hurt – especially in sue happy California. Because of that, you’d pretty much have to lop off a limb to get me to sue you.

‘I’m fine’ I said, still wiping the tears that couldn’t seem to stop.

‘I’m so so so so so so so sorry’ she said.

After the bleeding slowed, she cleaned my teeth – but only after I begged her. She thought the cleaning and a banged head might be too much for one day.

Obviously the bill for her services was waived.

And I got a killer bag full of dental goodies.

Guess who won’t be buying toothpaste for the next century?

Yeah. Almost worth getting my head smacked into an x-ray machine….

or not. Yeeeeeouch!

Harassed by HAMP?


Bank of America left a flurry of voicemail messages over the weekend.

*Beep* Rebekah, this is Bank of America calling about the HAMP program…
*Beep* Hi, this is Bank of America. We’re calling about the paperwork…
*Beep* Rebekah, please return our call at 877…

If Bank of America were an ex-boyfriend, I’d have a restraining order by now.

On Saturday, after the third phone call, I finally picked up.

“Hello Rebekah. This is Carol from Bank of America. I’d like to walk you through the application package we mailed to you last week. Have you had a chance to complete it and mail it to us?”

‘Carol’ kept me on the phone for nearly 30 minutes explaining what I had to do to get approved for the program. I find it incredibly odd that two years after my first application, they are ‘coming to my rescue’.

Did they come to my rescue when I lost my job? Did they help when I had to take a job making more than 30% less? How about when my husband lost his job and our mortgage payment was 115% of our income?

Not a peep.

The came to ‘save’ me now…two years later. Two years of not one late payment despite everything.

To add insult to injury, I received another copy of the package yesterday as a ‘back-up copy’ in case the first copy didn’t get to me.

I don’t understand why B of A is suddenly taking an interest in me – and only after I got my head above water.

I didn’t think it was possible to lose more respect for Bank of America.

Turns out…

It is.

Is Bank of America saving me? Or am I saving them?