So yesterday morning filled with fear and anxiety I went to my favorite oral surgeon to have a lovely rotten tooth removed. I obsess so much that the night before I actually dreamed about the surgery and in the dream I decided I didn’t have to do it. I dreamed that the tooth could be saved, but in the light of day I remembered the tooth was cracked and no amount of tooth-foolery would save it. I am not so sure why I was so attached to it. Maybe it was because I have had it for so many years. Maybe it was because my father’s voice rang in my head saying, “Keep all of your teeth, no matter what!”, but what he didn’t realize was that one of the reasons I had to have the tooth extracted was because I had done what he advised and took care of my teeth and all those years ago before the dental community realized that amalgam fillings expand and contract causing for me cracks in 2 teeth, and cracks cannot be repaired. No way, no how! So getting my teeth filled led to getting my teeth pulled, plain and simple.
So I sat down and relaxed into the valium drip and went to sleep while my masked surgeon went to work on me.
A nervous time was had by me and an empty, coffee free stomach created a really jittery sensation that I couldn’t even breathe into a sense of calm. But like every other oral surgery I have had, it was over in minutes, 20 actually, but for my drug induced mind it took only seconds and I was reminded again how much I love my surgeon!
I had been meaning to bring a camera along to photograph my friend the tooth who has served me well all of these years, but in my state of anxiety that idea slipped away and I will not be able to share that memory. But I stole one, well two, off the internet to show you. You will just have to imagine that mine came out in a couple of different pieces, since the roots were so long! That fella really didn’t want to leave
Anyway, today I am on pain killers, which leave me hazey and kind of mellow. My face is swollen and I have to take some antibiotics, which I hate, but oddly enough that space where the tooth was, stitched up as it is finally feels better, oddly better, like my tooth and I finally did have to part ways. So I am saying good-bye to it and may it be happy in that place where all bad teeth are sent, the bad tooth graveyard!