I would like to think that if challenged to go and live on a desert island with only a couple of essential items that I would be able to choose fun, frivolous things because I am carefree, spontaneous and adaptable. It appears though after I gave this some thought that I am none of these things and if I had to survive without some very mundane items the probability of me dying within the first day would be quite high.
This is by no way an exhaustive list but the first 3 things I thought of that I wouldn’t go anywhere for any length of time without.
Last month I had a dental appointment. Only for a check up, nothing sinister. The very first question out of the dentist’s mouth before I could even get comfy in the chair was ‘’Do you floss?’’
Were my teeth that grim he could see the dangly fury bits between them from the doorway?
I have flossed in the past.
I flossed as a child when mum used to get the mint flavoured one in the little circular real.
I floss when I’ve eaten BBQ and have meat stuck in my teeth.
But I do not floss regularly. Or I didn’t.
I was given instructions that I should begin to floss daily to improve my overall mouth health. So that’s what I did.
At first it was a struggle. It was uncomfortable and my gums would bleed. Because I was a child of the 80’s, when it was ok to give children dirty great big silver fillings, I couldn’t get the floss all the way through without thinking I was going to yank out one of those silver babies. But as I persevered I noticed that I needed to floss more and more. Like an addiction. Hooked on flossing (dental health not the dance). I wondered if there was a support group for it? I was flossing in the morning after my coco pops, after nearly every meal actually and before the habitual bedtime teeth clean. I had even bought 5 reals and had begun to place them strategically around the house so I didn’t have to keep going upstairs to retrieve it from the bathroom (I refuse to do any more steps than necessary). It began to feel like my teeth were actually itching and a spot of flossing was the only way to stop it.
Have you ever noticed that some older people, elderly people to be more precise sometimes look like they have a full sunday lunch between their teeth? Just to be clear I am not in any way being rude or disrespectful, old people are actually my favourites. It’s not a problem I ever remember having in my younger years. I’m not saying that I’ll be drawing my pension next week but as I get older, and now I have been properly introduced to flossing I feel like I actually couldn’t live without it.
*Indigestion and Heartburn remedies
You are laid in bed after a small midnight snack. A secret snack. You are a secret night time eater to be accurate. Practically choking on your own acid because your shitty reflux pipe doesn’t close properly and now actual acid is leaking out. Not actual acid like the battery sort but the stomach sort. The burning sensation in your chest and throat is horrendous. The pain between your buzzies is so severe you start to wonder if it is indigestion and heartburn at all. Maybe you’re having a heart attack?
When I was pregnant the first time round we lived in a house with only a downstairs bathroom. When I got bigger in the third trimester and the baby insisted I go for 5 wee’s per night I got into the habit of sneaky night time eating. I would open the snack cupboard and poke a jaffa cake into my mouth. If I could chew and swallow it while my head was still in the cupboard it was like it never happened and didn’t count so I would take another to eat whilst having a wee. This happened every night and every wee. It is unfortunate that 12 years and 3 stone later I have failed to break the habit and still sneak down during the night in full stealth mode to shovel a few biscuits in before slipping back into bed and pretending I’ve never moved. These days I don’t even have the accompanying wee. The shame of it.
Now, I’m no doctor but I don’t think this helps my indigestion.
Not long ago I was having a particularly painful bout of indigestion. I had two hot water bottles, one for my stomach and one for my back. I’d chugged nearly half a bottle of gaviscon straight from the bottle like the class act I am but I was still in agony. A couple of hours had passed and it wasn’t easing at all so I woke Husband.
‘’I’m not very well’’ I said in a poorly voice. The sort of voice you find yourself doing when you ring in sick at work.
‘’You woke me up. I’ve got to be at work soon’’ he slurred.
‘’But I think I might be having a heart attack’’ I whined.
I then explained how it felt and the pain I was in. I reminded him how we’d all heard the stories about people who thought they had needed a Rennie when really they needed a triple heart bypass.
‘’I think I should go to hospital’’ I announced.
His annoyance at being rudely awoken during the night and being talked to death was obvious.
‘’You’re probably not even having one’’. He snapped. ‘’I bet you just need to pump. How embarrassing if we got there and you just needed to let one go’’
So just to conclude, I was on the cusp of heart failure and Husband flat out refused to take me to hospital just in case I showed him up by not actually having a heart attack. Then he went straight back to sleep.
I have since learned that copious amounts of peppermint tea will do the trick and bring some relief … and some pumps. As it happened I did just need to let one go.
To avoid confusion I don’t mean a ‘brief’ or a ‘short’ as opposed to a string thong. I’m referencing great big granny pants.
Granny pants: They cover your full bottom which seems to be a dying trend given the range of swimwear that has become recently available. If you are shopping for a bikini or a new cozzy you will be hard pushed to find anything that will lovingly hug your backside. Instead we are faced with something that looks as though it might belong to your 10 year old daughter.
You can pull them up above your belly button and drop your stomach into them. You can call them ‘high waisted’ if you want to be bang on trend. Gone are the days thank god of sexy low cut jeans that were in fact so low cut, knickers of any kind were out of the question. If you forgot to shave the top part of your landing strip you may have been accused of smuggling a long haired guinea pig down there.
More difficult to lose after a wash. It’s annoying when you fail to locate the smaller items when a cycle has finished. Where did they go? Did the washer eat them? Did they run off with the odd socks and tupperware lids? It’s far easier to find big knickers when you empty the washing machine, this is due to their sheer size.