A HOLLOW FEELING

While in Urbana the beginning of the month, I squeezed in a visit to my old dental office for a long-overdue cleaning. The hygienist was very thorough -- to the point of dislodging an old crown during all her buffing and flossing so that the tooth wiggled slightly, making chewing very awkward.

After a week of no improvement back in Torrance, I called the office in Illinois to have them mail me my x-rays so I could show the original state of the tooth to a new dentist (as yet unfound). Another week waiting. Finally, last Saturday the packet arrived in the mail and I was all set to start looking for a dentist the following week. Then Sunday the area began giving me vague pain, then stronger pain, then pain that OTC ibuprofin barely helped. It was a long night. Monday morning I knew it was an emergency situation. But why would a loose crown over an old root canal (i.e. no nerve left) be causing so much pain?

From the Yellow Pages I saw a huge ad for two dental surgeons, USC grads (one of the best dental schools in the state) and called about 7:30 am Monday morning. The receptionist was in. (No Presidents' Day vacation there, fortunately!) When she heard my problem, she put me on hold -- a long hold, which I thought was a good sign because it probably meant they were seeking SOME way to fit me in that day. 10:40 am was available, she said. Perfect!

The office turned out to be located along a high-voltage line corridor with no buildings under it (for public safety?), not a high-rent neighborhood. The bulding (they had warned me it was "under renovation") would have looked sad in a working-class district of Mexico City. "Non-descript" would be more description that it deserved. Workmen were coming and going, and you could hear industrial-strength drills in the background (not the dental variety). Everything was small, cramped and looked temporary, but any dental office in a storm!

The dental surgeon himself generated more trust. Gray-haired Dr. Stalley was the original founder of the practice and had been in business a couple of decades. And he had gotten his DDS from USC. He looked at the day's x-rays and gave me the scoop. And my heart sank. It was not only a cracked crown; the whole tooth was abcessed in the socket area above it (the old root canal hadn't been thorough enough, apparently). Not only that, but the abcess had broken through into the high gum area under my cheek, causing a nice little (painful) packet of infection that "could eventually strip the flesh off your jaw bone," he helpfully pointed out. "That didn't just develop since your cleaning." The tooth would have to come out, the area behind it cleaned out and sterilized thoroughly, and a tiny rubber catchment bag inserted into the infected packet under the cheek to collect pus for a week. Lovely. (And how much, I wondered.)

It was to be a two-step process separated by a couple of months. First, he would remove the tooth and clean out the infection. Then let the gum heal over it (like happens with wisdom teeth). Only after that would he go ahead and replace the missing tooth with an implant + crown. (Two surgeries, two bills.)

But by that point, you just want to be done with the pain and have a healthy mouth, so I consented to the surgery -- far more mentally than I was prepared for that morning. The good news in the end was that the catchment bag wouldn't be needed since he removed the pus another way. At the end of that memorable morning, I walked out of the office one tooth lighter with a wad of wet gauze jammed up into the cavity to hold in place for two hours till it clotted successfully. And a handful of prescriptions for anti-infection antibiotics and, of course, pain killers - a regular one for "discomfort" (Ibuprofin) and another for "intense pain" (Vicodin).

I go back Thursday for a check-up and to remove some sutures, but I'm already feeling relief and am looking forward to more solid food once the area has had a chance to heal more. And I haven't needed the Vicodin yet (knock wood).

I'm thinking one way to profit from this whole situation is by starting a new diet fad: "The Abcess Diet". I wonder if Weight Watchers would approve?

THE PINK PANTHER RETURNS ... TO HOLLYWOOD

Just a little story about coming full circle.

Over 30 years ago in June '75, Dad and I were together in Los Angeles, and he insisted on taking me to see the original "Return of the Pink Panther" with Peter Sellers at its exclusive first run at the Cinerama Dome Theatre, a Hollywood landmark. He dragged me along kicking and (almost) screaming. But I was quickly won over by the absolutely daft genius of Peter Sellers as Inspecteur Clouseau de la Sûreté Nationale. I was planning to be a French major at Wheaton later that fall, so what was not to like?! I remember laughing so hard it was painful.

" 'ave you a lisahnce for your minkey?" he asks the blind man on the street corner. And then there was the scene where the parrot gets swallowed by the vacuum cleaner manned by Clouseau posing as house keeping.

When I moved to Hollywood-Los Feliz back last August, I happened to drive past the old theatre on Sunset Blvd. (yes, THE Sunset Blvd.) and instantly recognized it as the theatre he had taken me to back in '75. (How many theaters are shaped like a huge dome?) And a plan was hatched in my head to see a movie there sometime "for old times' sake." I did actually get to that theater several times in later months, in fact. It's now part of a huge mall/parking complex called "Arclight Cineplex" and has over 20 separate theatres, along with shops, restaurants, and a cooking school. They've kept the original "Dome" theatre for their special film débuts. But each time I went, it seemed, the Dome had some movie I had no interest in seeing or was sold out (most recently "King Kong"), so I'd end up in one of the smaller, newer theatres instead.

Then, a remake of the Pink Panther movies came out just this month starring Steve Martin. I wondered whether by some odd chance it, too, might be débuting at the Cinerama Dome. I checked the paper today and ... sure enough, "The Pink Panther" was playing at the Dome! How propitiious, I thought. The same film series at the same theater as the one Dad and I went to 30 years ago!

I just got back from seeing it now, and ... well, Steve Martin deserves a lot of credit for a valiant attempt to fill the original shoes of Peter Sellers. In fact, he looks more French at times. The humor is usually predictable long before a gag, but it's still a fun ride. And there seems to be more of Paris, real Paris, in this particular film - which is never a thing to be sneezed at. So, overall B+.

And thanks, Dad, for sharing your love of goofy, no-redeeming-social-value humor many years back. We went to all the later Pink Panther films religiously.

ILLINOIS

After talking about a return trip to Urbana since before Thanksgiving, I finally made it the end of January (Jan 29-Feb. 6). The trip had its surreal moments.

I was actually supposed to fly out Saturday, January 28 just before noon. When I got to the airport, I got my boarding passes from the e-ticket machine (I had booked online) and proceeded to the luggage check-in. The United agent objected:

“Your flight already left at 7:45 this morning!”

What?! I showed her the print-out off the computer email. I was on time.

“And you’re a day early. It says your flight is tomorrow morning.”

What?! (again) I insisted the print-out said I had the right day and the right time.

She checked her computer. My Chicago flight had been canceled. No other connection could get me to Chicago in time for the last commuter flight to Bloomington-Normal Saturday. Resigned to the inevitable, I finally went home and came back early Sunday for my second flight. I had wanted to be able to attend my old congregation back in Champaign two Sundays, now I had to miss the first while I was up in the air.

I stayed over at four different homes during my week in town. First, at one of the pastor’s, then at three friends’ homes. I figured it was less of a burden on any one household and gave me a chance to spend “quality time” with several people during the week.

My main business goal was to consolidate my storage items still in a 15’x5’ storage unit in Urbana, taking back valuable items for my job hunt portfolio and moving the rest into a smaller unit for less money each month. It took every day most of the week to accomplish it all. The longest bit, surprisingly, was repacking the boxes I wanted to take with me. Amtrak has a great deal on express freight – up to 500 lbs. for about $220.

By Sunday evening (the day before I was to leave) I finally got all the boxes repacked and ready for cross-continental travel. Two friends met me at the station to help carry the 20 boxes to the Amtrak desk and … the station was packed with travelers for the evening train to Chicago. And they forbid us from checking the boxes in until every last passenger had boarded the train. So we waited. Meanwhile, the home-cooked meal that I had pulled my two friends from was getting cold back at home. But this was one of the main reasons I’d come, so we were going to get those boxes on the train!

Four of my boxes were in plastic bins – no go. The other 16 were all within the weight allowance – except one big one. It was 6 lbs. overweight. I ripped it open, took out a couple of binders, and magically, the scale hit 50 lbs. exactly!

It was good seeing so many old friends and seeing how big their kids had gotten. Life in Illinois moves on without me somehow. And the weather was unseasonably mild. I got off the little 20-seater plane in Bloomington holding my jacket and felt no discomfort as I stepped onto the tarmac. One day it got up to 60º! I could have been in LA! By the end of the week, however, winter was rearing its bitter head, and temperatures were below freezing. It was kind of a relief, really. I didn’t go to Urbana in January to be coddled!