Dear Diary,
help me. I don't want to lie in a nursing bed again and watch a trickle of blood run from my mouth into my pillow.
After all the trouble and stress I just had because of my bleeding gums, it's enough for the next few weeks. I've already banned toothbrushes and we only clean with dental sponges. I thought nothing could go wrong now.
Lately it seems to become the rule that I am wrong. I keep assuming that several of my carers are more on the ball than what they show with me.
And so it was that on the very first try, a tooth-care stick hit the very spot that was most damaged. And got stuck there. I wince. Please, not again. Strange. I could swear something just broke. But then we wouldn't be going on unmolested. My nurse pulls out the chopstick. Oh, oh, oh, .. That doesn't look good. The following suction is similar. Normally two or three more sticks would follow. Today, however, we suck it off straight away and, as expected, everything is red again. Why don't we just say something straight away, but obviously hope that it won't be noticed and that I won't remember the last time. And I was already contorting my face when it happened. How on earth am I supposed to have forgotten that in two minutes? That's not normal.
This time we have more luck than sense. Literally.
Once again, we cut suitable swabs from mouth care sticks, which are clamped between the bleeding tissue and the lips. It's just a shame that today it was on the inside. The actual wound cannot be tied off. The constant waiting for something to get better, for some medication to take effect or for some panic attack to finally pass is becoming a bad habit here, just like my own mistakes.
At least this method also works a second time. The renewed bleeding can be stopped quickly and that's good for today.
I just wonder why something always has to happen first. It's really like with little children here.
