5 Songs, 8 Notes

 We saw a wonderful show at the B Street Theater in Sacramento last night.  It was an original one-man show, commissioned by the theater, by playwright, writer Jack Gallagher.  It was a great show, but one part of it shocked me.  Well, this wasn't the first time I've been shocked me about this.  When we went to Uncle Herb's memorial the other day, I was also shocked. At the memorial, the congregation all joined in singing "Amazing Grace."  Last night the audience was invited to join in the singing of "Danny Boy."

I have not sung really anything in years.  I sometimes used to sing along to music in the car, but since I've switched to audio books, I don't play music in the car, so I truly don't know when the last time I used my singing voice.

I seem to have become the victim of "use it or lose it."  I have literally no voice.  Or literally very little voice.  I can barely hit an octave.  My lowest note is middle-C and if I try to go lower than that I get a croaky version of middle C, but I can't hit a note lower than that.  I can barely get to C above middle C, but can't sustain a note that goes higher than 3 notes above C.  I also can't seem to hit the notes that I am trying to hit.  I know the tune and when I try to sing it, the notes I come out with are off key.  I never really understood how someone could hear a note and not be able to recreate it...now I do.

I sang in choirs for so many years and have always sung something, so this is a big surprise.  It's not that I need a singing voice for anything, but it's just strange--and a little sad--to discover I no longer have one.

So, doing a personal inventory again, I need hearing aids, I've lost the vision in my right eye, I have degenerative changes in my spine, my knees are shot, I have lost my singing voice...and today my dentist tells me my teeth are dissolving.

They're not in imminent danger of melting away the next time I bite into a Big Mac (if I ever ate Big Macs, which I don't think I ever have), but it's getting to be where with some of my teeth there is more filling than actual tooth and she sees this as a continuing situation unless I do something drastic.

She says it's probably due to dry mouth.  Who knew I had dry mouth?  That goes along with old age, diabetes, medications and I don't remember what else, but I hit the trifecta.

So I now have a list of things to do to forestall the disappearance of my teeth altogether.  She wants to keep me around because I'm the ideal patient--I do not have insurance (I hears horror stories today about dental insurance) and I bring her a lot of work!

At least it's only my teeth which are dissolving.  Some days when I visit my mother (like today), I get the feeling she's dissolving slowly in front of me.  These days when she says "I'm getting old, Bev," she really looks it.  But at least she still has all her teeth.