Dental Surgery - My Story

First of all, one of my New Year's goals was to blog more. It is a great way for me to work on my writing and story telling skills, and a simple way for people to check in on me. Might as well embrace all the technology has to offer.

If you say "first of all", you must have a second point, which currently escapes me. I am simply going to blame that on the pain killers that were prescribed to me.

So I recently had dental surgery, people kept asking me "what I was having done."

"Dental surgery"

"No what specifically are you having done."

I couldn't answer them.

Oh sure, they told me at the periodontal office. And they showed me, with my x-rays, with a mold of someone's teeth that kind of freaked me out, so I didn't really look. They had colored graphs and pages of literature. They pulled out all the stops to make sure I had a clear picture of what would be going on. Right I thought, you have how many years of schooling, you have been a periodontist for years, and after 15 minutes I am expected to be up to speed. Not going to happen. Life gets so much easier when you simply accept that fact and leave everything up to the experts and a little luck.

So off I went at the crack of dawn last Friday for my appointment. I am so not a morning person but I was so excited about the "happy" pills, and that is what they called them, that leaving for the office in the pitch dark didn't phase me. It is kind of like when you are going on vacation and have an early flight. You never seen to mind getting up at 3:00 in the morning. For some reason I thought the pills might be like taking e. So for three hours I would be in the dentist chair all floaty having the most amazing high. I even told this dyke I ran into in the elevator how forward I was looking to getting high.

Didn't happen. The pills just knocked me out. And that was amazing. I have no idea what they did to me. They might have been coping a feel. Sometimes I wonder why all my thoughts are sexual. As are yours. You always hope the cable/phone/hydro/water/gas guy will be hot. Really hot. And want you open the door...."Meter's that way", you sigh.

My surgeon is unbelievable. He even phoned me at home on Sunday night to check in to so see how I was doing. And then today. I am sitting at my desk and the receptionist calls to say that a package had arrived for me from my dentist's office. I thought that was odd, but maybe they are sending me more pain killers, or my, well, I couldn't really think of what they would be sending me. So I went out to the receptionist to get my package and it was a "get well" gift. This cute little mug with herbal teas. A card with a hand written message from my surgeon. Not typed. No rubber stamp. No pre-printed statement. I think my friends should take note. Or perhaps the surgeon has a little crush on me. Why does that always happen?