the cost of falling apart

I've been thinking a lot about my body lately. Not, of course, in any kind of self-congratulatory way (a North American woman with a positive body image? Isn't that grounds for expulsion?), but more in a 'Wow! You too!?' way. You see, it seems that I'm falling apart.

I know I've whined before the litany of physical complaints that accompanies big changes in my life and this time around is no different. I haven't been too frustrated because by now I expect them. You could say we have a gentleman's agreement: I continue to take a nice, stable life and throw it into upheaval and my body continues to respond by making it difficult to sit, stand, walk, climb - in general, to move. It works. But now my body is messing with my ability to eat and that is most definitely NOT in our agreement. At least, not to my knowledge. But then, as I thought back over the past few years, I realized something; I realized that my body has been breaking our agreement and tossing in random additional injuries for as far back as I could remember.

Here's the deal. Last week one of my molars broke (well, dissolved, really) so I need a root canal and reconstructive work. Up to this point I've just been irritated by the cost, pissed that I can't eat, and frustrated that this happens every time I leave a job and lose my dental insurance leaving me scrambling to cover the costs. Every. Single. Time. And then it hit me. It's not just my back that responds to change, it's my teeth too. My mind, unconscious, equilibrium - whatever - is so freaked out by change that even my teeth, those things that remain long after the rest of the body has turned to dust, they crumble at the sight of a bagel.

I've decided that I either succumb to a nice, stable life - stop changing careers, stop leaving great jobs to travel, stop ignoring the very stable lawyer type boys - or I get better health coverage because this shit is getting expensive. Whenever I contemplate spending a large chunk of money I usually think first about where that money could fly me if I were to put it to a plane ticket instead. That's why I still have a mattress on a floor instead of a bed. I could buy proper furniture but I'd rather go to New York for the weekend.

This root canal thingy I have going tomorrow? Two separate trips to India. That's all I'm saying.