I don't care for the probes and other things that can pick out last week's broccoli casserole from a body's cecum via a molar, either.
I used to have a certifiable phobia of
I believe in getting the unpleasant done and over with as quickly as possible so I'm often his first
Seriously? Mayree?? You're blogging about the dentist visit and his empty gut? Wellllllll... It's actually about nitrous oxide and my brain and the dentist's almost-verbal digestive tract.
I don't go readily into the chair without the tank of nitrous steadily by my side.
As the sedating gas works it's medical miracle and relaxation starts I count ceiling tiles and wonder why they're accoustic. I count the numbers of perforations in each tile. I snicker to myself when I can't multiply tiles time perforations because somebody is talking in the room with me and the tank.
Dr. R is asking about cakes while administering the face-altering numby stuff. There's no answering with the syringe where it is. I hear his stomach ask "Yo. Woman. How's 'bout a chocolate cake?" I feel my face crinkle into a smile while telepathically replying, "Curls are extra."
The dentist tries to sneak that scraper thingie around the line of peripheral vision but his tummy gives his actions away "Incoming! Take cover!"
Scrrrrrrreeeeeetch scccccrrrratch scraaaape scrappe scrape! goes the sounds of metal on a lower left incisor. My mind thinks of Dorothy Parker's line, "What fresh hell is this?" The GastroGeniusRumbler aka the dentist's stomach, says, "I told you so."
Fortunately, the dental carie is small and only the one drill bit, previously used to attempt to drain the Indian Ocean from Mississippi, sounds it's terror while the Voice of Stomach Karma sings to me Tom Waits' Underground.
The fluoride treatment tastes like new shower curtains smell. Ggr (GastricGeniusRumbler) wonders if fluoride could ever be a secret ingredient in the basket on the cooking show Chopped. Not being able to wrap my thoroughly relaxed and free-thinking mind around a good reason why it couldn't be, I pretend not to hear him.
Dr. R and his assistant are talking some cryptic code that sounds suspiciously like they know what they're doing and Ggr assures me it's almost over. I'm actually a little saddened to realize the conversation will be finished before we've had a chance to discuss the gateway to the fourth dimension.
Surely enough, the bib is taken off and the O2 is turned on to
I wonder if I should call the man and tell him chocolate curls are extra?
Mama's surgery is scheduled for March 2nd with an expected hospital stay of 5 to 10 days. To say she's a little apprehensive is an understatement. Y'all keep her in your thoughts and prayers and we'll both appreciate it. <3 Mary