Beep, beep, beep.


This is a continuation of yesterdays blog.

After breaking my tooth in half eating granola and visiting Dr. Whatsherfuzzy, I was informed that I now had to endure another Cherry day before I could get into a Maxillofacial specialist. Just so you know exactly what one is, I have provided the definition courtesy of Wikipedia for you: “Oral and maxillofacial surgery is surgery to correct a wide spectrum of diseases, injuries and defects in the head, neck, face, jaws and the hard and soft tissues of the oral and maxillofacial region. It is a recognized international surgical specialty.” So more or less, I’m defective, they are going to pull my tooth out and give me lots of good drugs in the process.

I went into their office and it was the most beautiful dentist’s office I have ever seen in my life. It had lush couches, beautiful plants, large windows and everything was so clean. I have never seen an office so clean. I filled out my paper work and was called in to meet the cute Asian dentist. He was so nice and sat me down in a large office with a desk. I had never seen a dentist’s office with a desk and plasma TV before today.
“Stacy, I understand you have a broken tooth,” he said to me.
“Yethh, it’s thith one righh here, “ I said. Damn speech impediment! I opened my mouth to show him the offending tooth and put my finger on the tooth and that’s when the tooth completely broke in half and was now floating around inside my mouth. I was able to locate it before I swallowed it and tried to give it to the cute Asian dentist and he said, “No, that’s okay, you keep it.” I can’t believe he didn’t want my tooth. Normally I give men my heart but this was my tooth. This was a much more permanent show of my affection don’t you think?

He then did a quick check up on my mouth and told me I had two choices. Option A was to get a bridge. Let’s consult Wikipedia again, shall we? “A dental bridge is a false tooth or teeth…fused between two porcelain crowns to fill in the area left by a missing tooth or teeth.” I was told that the bridge typically only lasts about 10 years. Option B was an implant. I don’t need Wikipedia for this one because the implant is the choice I made. An implant is made of titanium and they screw it directly into the jawbone where the tooth used to be. Then they screw a post into the titanium implant, create you a shiny new porcelain tooth, attach the tooth to the post and voila. It’s like you never lost a tooth in the first place. And it will cost you the price of a small child. Or in this case all the money my husband had put aside for his big screen TV. I told him I could always steal one from the dentist’s office but I should probably wait until after the procedure was done.

The day of surgery I went in bright and early, as I wasn’t able to eat the night before. They were going to knock my ass out which was fine with me. They can’t take the tooth out and put the implant in on the same day so this was the day for the extraction. My husband Poptart and I waited anxiously in the waiting room. Actually he was reading Sports Illustrated, and I was the anxious one. Then Nurse #1 came out to get me. All of a sudden I really wanted to go home. I had been knocked out before when my wisdom teeth were removed but it had been at least 12 years since then. Nurse #1 took me into a small white room and sat me back in a chair and put a put monitor on my left index finger. She then put two more electrode monitors on my chest. “What are those for?” I asked.
“So we can keep an eye on your heart rate,” she informed me. All of a sudden my heart rate jumped a bit and started beating faster. Beep, beep, beep.
“Stacy, I’m going to need you to take a deep breath and try and calm down, okay?”
“Okay,” I said as I reverted back to a small child and really wished I had my mommy there to hold my hand. I heard the door behind my head open and then I saw him, and he was not the cute Asian dentist. “Hello Stacy, it’s nice to meet you. I’m The Mad Scientist dentist. Cute Asian dentist got an emergency call and I will be performing your extraction,” he told me. But I don’t want Mad Scientist guy. I suddenly had visions of being raised up on a metal table by chain to an open roof and being struck by lightning as he screamed “It’s Alive!!!” Beep, beep, beep.

Then Nurse #2 came in to join Nurse #1 and they both stared singing Motown. I grew up on Motown. My mom was a huge fan and I loved the music. “You may feel a slight pinch,” Mad Scientist told me as the needle went into my right arm. “Start counting backwards from 100 for me.”
“100,” I said, while in the background I heard “ I’ve got Sunshine on a cloudy day.”
“99…”
“When it’s cold outside, I’ve got the month of May.”
“98…” I was starting to drift off now watching the two Temptations move around my small white room.
“I guess you’ll say, what can make me feel this way? Stacy, Stacy, Stacy. Talkin’ bout…”

I woke up to see the Mad Scientist smiling over me. “How do you feel?” he asked me.
“Fine,” I replied with a huge smile over my face. No lie, I actually felt really, really good. I tried to brush the hair from my face, but couldn’t move my arms. That’s when I looked down and noticed something peculiar.
“Why are my arms strapped down?” I asked. What kind of dentist’s office was this?
“We had to strap you down because you were grabbing and swinging at me. Your tooth was impacted so we had to use a dentist hammer to break it up because we weren’t able to get it out,” he informed me. Dentist Hammer? Seriously? They have a name like “Maxillofacial,” but they can’t come up with anything better than “Dentist Hammer?” I’m assuming this is when the swinging part occurred.
“Your husband is right outside. He’s been waiting for you and is anxious to see you.”

After about 20 minutes of sitting there trying to get my bearings they led me out to Poptart whose eyes told the whole story. From the look on his face I wasn’t looking too good. The nurse told him about the hammer and the impacted tooth. She told him I was on painkillers now but that he was going to need to get my prescription for the Vicodin filled ASAP. Because once the painkillers wore off I was most likely not going to be having nearly as much fun. And last but not least she warned us to expect quite a bit of bruising and swelling because of the difficulty of the extraction.

We got home and I was feeling groovy. Two hours later? Not so much. I had read the brochure on how to take care of the new hole in my mouth and I was not supposed to smoke. According to the Vicodin bottle I was not supposed to drink either. Yeah. Instructions are for suckers. So I popped a Vicodin, grabbed a glass of chardonnay and packed the left side of my mouth with cotton to cover the hole so I could smoke. Poptart scolded me, “You’re not supposed to smoke!” I just glared at him. He threw up his arms and walked out of the room, muttering to himself.

I went back in a week later so that the Mad Scientist could check out how I was healing. I was right on track. “Now why did I write ‘Difficult’ on the outside of your file?” he said, while scratching his head. Difficult? I think I was pretty nice about this whole thing. For one I looked like someone beat the shit out of me. My husband stopped going into public with me because people were giving him dirty looks. I was thinking about buying a shirt that said “You Should See The Other Guy.”
“Wait, I remember now,” he said. “We couldn’t get you fully under. We have three different injections. A normal person takes one of each injection. You, on the other hand, took two of the first one, two of the second one, and three of the third one.” I didn’t want to tell him about my past drug experimentation and that they would have been better off using an elephant tranquilizer on me. So I just played sweet, innocent, and dumb.
“Really? That’s so weird.” I said.

The Mad Scientist and I said our goodbyes and scheduled me to come back again in two weeks for another check up and to schedule the implant. Oh great. Now they were going to drill into my jaw. I hoped they had a lot of drugs for this one and some heavy duty straps because I was pretty sure they were going to have a fight on their hands. I went ahead and ordered two t-shirts. One for me and one for the dentist. I had a feeling he was going to need one as well.

To be continued…….

Love it? Hate it? Let me know! Send questions, comments, brownie recipes or random brainfarts to: mrsdiagnosed@yahoo.com

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