Old school dentist fixes me up; shots for my kids

My body keeps deteriorating, which is no news flash since I'm 66 going on 79 in a life of excess. After mashing my toe and wrenching my ankles and knee in a couple of old-guy falls in the house, I bit into a frozen candy bar and one of my back molars crumbled. At first, I thought there was a stone in the candy bar, but I saw the "stone" under a magnifying glass and brilliantly deducted that is was a back tooth. The deduction was assisted by my tongue finding a jagged gap in the back of my mouth, next door to my gold tooth, which my former student Sam has requested when I finish playing the end game. My father-in-law hooked me up with his dentist, a no-nonsense woman who seemed concerned about my ability to pay for treatment. She quoted me a price and I assured her I could pay -- "tien den, tien di" (money comes, money goes), I told her -- and that set her in motion. The office is divided by curtains, and the dentist chatted with my father-in-law while she worked rather rigorously on my mouth. She drilled away some of the remaining tooth and only slipped up a couple of times, touching the nerve. I swear she was distracted by my father-in-law. I returned two days later for the cap, and she used some kind of tool to essentially hammer the cap into place. It was sore for three days. Then she suggested a cleaning and procedure to fill in the many gaps between my gums and teeth caused by my receding gums, apparently yet another sign that the end game is in full swing. The dentist's style is strictly old school. If you don't scream, it doesn't hurt. She put me through cosmetic and cleaning rigors for a good 45 minutes. I came away a little rattled but my teeth look pretty darn good, I must admit. It's been seven or eight years since I've been to a dentist, so I was pleased. It was a bargain as well, costing a little over $100 U.S. Not a lot of money that was very well spent.
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My kids went for routine vaccinations this past week and did very well. The last time we went, Joanna had to be held down by a doctor. This time, she listened to dad, counted to five and said OUCH! during the shot and that was it. I could tell she was sort of proud of herself for how she handled the pain. It was a good-sized needle, by the way. Elijah cried for about two seconds after the shot and that was it. He's big, sweet and tough. Mission accomplished with no issues. We asked about Covid vaccines, but I guess they're for health workers for the time being.  There are still a smattering of cases here, but nothing like the U.S. or Europe.
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Poor Joanna basically got assaulted three times in the past two weeks. A little girl about two started hitting her out of the blue on two separate occasions in a little market near our house. A little boy 2 or 3  she sort of knows from a restaurant where I get take-out grabbed her fingers really hard and started twisting. Joanna yelled "give me back my hand" but the kid wouldn't let go so I intervened briefly to free her up. Then the boy sort of gorilla posed and screamed in front of me to signify how tough he is. The third occasion was simple push and shove stuff at a party. Joanna told the boy to stop pushing her and she ran away from him. My wife was with me for all of the incidents, so there is a witness. I suspect corporal punishment or hitting of some kind at home leads to the aggressive behavior we've encountered here. The mothers just smile or laugh at their kids' unsavory behavior. Joanna isn't aggressive with other kids and she hasn't retaliated yet. She's got the size to retaliate, but we don't want the behavior of a lot of the kids here to influence and rub off on her. I know kids are kids and some of this can be expected, but the random quality of the aggressiveness toward our daughter concerns me. She's a sweet girl, but she'll eventually retaliate and she's big and very strong. We just don't want anything to happen. My wife will be taking her physical again to obtain her U.S. visa and we'll go from there and see what happens.

Happy anniversary to an awesome lady; a horrible scare

Right here, right now, I want to use this space to say how much I love, respect and appreciate my incredible and beautiful wife Phuong as we celebrate our fifth wedding anniversary this week. In the five years we've been married and 6-and-a-half years we've lived together, we've experienced so much: we've gotten new teeth; I've lost a gall bladder; I damaged my kidney and back in three motorbike accidents; tore a tendon in my foot playing tennis; recovered and reclaimed, and then lost the No. 1 family tennis ranking; developed sciatica; we visited Thailand and South Korea; I became estranged from my family for past mistakes and required therapy, which I still receive; I've endured countless skin rashes (I have two now) and smashed my big toe and hurt my left knee in a sudden and spectacular fall on our stairs; a week later I fell out of bed and mildly sprained my right ankle; I've quit smoking and drinking and took up daily reading; and we finally obtained a de facto visa for my wife to enter the U.S. after six years of effort and thousands of dollars spent. All of these events are certainly memorable, but the greatest and most important events of the past 6-and-a-half years for Phuong and I are -- duh, of course -- the births of our daughter Joanna and son Elijah. Our son is so easy-going and pleasant; he smiles constantly and enjoys company. Joanna is certainly more challenging and demanding, but she has such a high intellect, good heart and quick wit for a child 4-and-a-half years old. This pair occupies our every moment, and we couldn't be happier. My wife's devotion and loyalty to our family through good times and bad -- and God knows I've contributed more than my share to the bad -- are a testament to her strong and incredible character. Sometimes I don't deserve it, but I feel I'm the luckiest man alive. Happy anniversary, Dear Phuong.
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My daughter took her independence and free spirit to a higher and more dangerous level this past week, going out our front door and walking by herself to the park, which is a good little walk from our house with several turns. She's never done anything like this before and she rarely goes out in front of our house by herself. When I saw the door open and Phuong coming home, I asked her if Joanna was at her parents' house. When she said no, I panicked and ran upstairs and checked our bedroom. I knew she wasn't there but had to check. No Joanna and no answer. I checked upstairs at her parents' house ... no Joanna, no answer. I ran to the little market around the corner. I asked the clerk and got the frickin' hand shake. I ran toward the park and past a car wash, asking the employees there if they had seen Joanna. One guy just laughed but another pointed to the park. I ran there and saw Joanna strolling in the park carrying her stuffed crocodile and wearing her hat, God bless her. It was 94 degrees at least. I ran to her and picked her up and hugged her. I was almost in tears. Words can't capture the fear and stress I felt as I looked for Joanna. Outlandish and reckless motorbike riders and creepy people walking around make this walk so frightening for a child ...  and parent. Joanna seemed surprised by my reaction as I hugged and squeezed her. She hasn't been out of my sight since.
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Covid lockdown restrictions are slowly being lifted here, with schools now reopened and food trickling back into the markets. Not everyone wears a mask, but I never forget my mask anymore, and our daughter Joanna wears a mask every time she goes out. Our 10-month-old son Elijah won't wear a mask.  Phuong is 50-50 but she's stepped up lately. There's talk of Covid in a beach town a couple of hours away, and lots of folks who live here go there for vacation. But restrictions haven't been ramped up yet and there are no reports of a cluster. Two foreigners I know were in the park we go to (and Joanna walked to) and some of the locals were suspicious. People were worried they had just come into town and perhaps were "contaminated". They weren't wearing masks, which added to the suspicions. My wife assured the concerned locals that the foreigners lived more or less in the neighborhood and had been here a long time.
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 Our son has gravitated naturally to sports, or at least the sports balls in our house. He'll amuse himself for long stretches of time with a soccer ball, knocking it across the room and then crawling after it at high rates of speed. It's fun to watch, since crawling on my knees across the floor with him is out of the question. He's getting close to walking, thank goodness. Faux marble or hard faux wood on top of faux marble are not kind to my old knees. Even Joanna has finally noticed the adverse effects of hitting the floor in our house. But Joanna doesn't care about sports in any way, shape, or form. Books and videos are her bag. She'll run back and forth across a room, she'll play chase at the park, but sports with a ball or racket or any equipment -- even tennis shoes -- is out of the question.