Wednesday, February 18, 2009

Do you smell smoke?

OK. Just relax. No problem - you've done this a half dozen times over you lifetime. No big deal.

The brand new offices do have a nice view. The Merrimack River rushing by outside the floor to ceiling window. Hmm. It's rushing kind of fast. Wow. If you watch it for a while it's kind of nauseating. Refocus. Don't watch the river.

OK. Relax. Already said that. I hear footsteps.

Him: "Hello."

Me: "Hi."

Him: "I haven't seen you in a while."

Me: "I've been here, where have you been?" OK. Kind of rude. Didn't mean to be rude but I show up every 6 months and most of the time he's on vacation or something.

Him: "I guess you're right."

Enough of the chit chat. Let's get this sucker novocained up so I can get out of here. I'm such a hypocrite when I tell my kids "There's nothing to be afraid of at the dentist. It doesn't hurt." Bull.

OK. He's starting. Close your eyes because you don't want to see the needle. OK, pinch. Oww. Mmmm? Isn't he done? How much is he putting in there? Good God, I'll never feel my face again.

Him: "OK. A few minutes and I'll be back."

Few minutes? Let's get drilling, dude. I have an eyebrow wax at 4:00 and it's 11:00 now - do you think I'll be out by then? Ok. Rude again. Good thing that stayed in my head. I think.

Cool. He's back.

Him: "Ok. I'm going to put one more dose in, okay? Do you feel that?"

Me: "O" which is supposed to be "no" but with a huge needle and little feeling in your face it's hard to get the "n" out!

Him: "Ok. Few more minutes and you'll be ready."

Are you effing kidding me? I'm nauseous from your "beautiful" view. I can't feel anything to the right of my face. I am starving and won't be able to eat after this. And you want a few more minutes?

Me: "OK, flanks." Hmmm. Guess it's kicking in. That didn't quite sound like "thanks".

Ah. He's back again. Let's get the show on the road.

High pitch. Not a pleasant sound. Can't they make these sound nicer? Don't feel anything. Good. Good. OK. Can't swallow. Dry mouth. Um. Smoke. Hello? Smoke. Why isn't the nice lady pouring water in my mouth to put out the fire? Hello?? Nice lady.

There. Can't feel it but I know there is water in there now. Still can't swallow.

Him: "You okay?"

Me: "Up"

This seems like the end. Oh, he wants me to bite down. That's tricky. How do you bite down when you can't feel the inside of your mouth? Here goes.

Him: "Oops. I think you bit your tongue."

Nice lady: "Mmmmm. Yeah. You did. That will sting later when this wears off."

What? First my mouth smells like it's on fire, the drill is sending shivers up my spine and now I somehow bit my tongue without feeling it. What is going on here? You have access to my tongue, couldn't you have moved it out of the way?

Him: "Ok. We'll see if this helps and if not you'll need a crown. Good to see you again. Enjoy your 40th in New York City."

Ow, that stung. Numbing my mouth up beyond normal limits so I can't speak and then throwing in the 40th birthday jab. Who are you? Satan?

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to try and sip some water past my bloody tongue and see if that takes the edge off from being STARVING! Not to self - only do dentist appointments at 8 a.m.