Our poor darling Joan had her wisdom teeth removed on Monday, and as one might expect (being Joan and all), things have not gone terribly well – she’s in mucho pain and her face resembles that of an adorable (but agonised) chipmunk.

We’d ferried my leftover painkillers (codeine is my enemy) to her on Thursday evening and I delivered mashed potato and drove her to her appointment with the surgeon on Friday afternoon. He packed the holes with dressings, gave her a pat on the head and told her to come back on Tuesday.

While she was at her appointment, I drove around and around and around and around the CBD and East Sydney for 45 minutes in a futile attempt to obtain a parking space – first challenging drive since my operation – to my delight, I remained zen throughout (although it required a good deal of talking to myself).

Map of my journey. Yes non-Syndey residents, it did indeed take 45 minutes – bring on the congestion tax!

Afterward, I forced Joan to let me do her washing up and other sundry motherly fussing in her lovely bachelorette apartment. So we were all happy.

Poor wee poppet – hopefully things will be on the improve soon.


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