(no subject)

Note to Erin: so sorry I missed you last night! Alan made me go to bed right after South Park. Doh.

The plan meant I was supposed to sleep until the last minute, waking up only long enough to pp more pills and be driven to the dentist. I started waking up around 2am however, and finally just crawled out of bed. The cat will be my excuse. He meowed so much, I knew he wanted breakfast.

My desk is covered in prescription bottles. I am so terribly nervous about this despite all reassurances. I spend my days walking around with the delusion that I'm a robot and I don't have fragile human parts. Hearing so many dental horror stories over the past few days has not really calmed me either.

they took all four wisdom teeth away

So I went back to the evil dentist, which was a huge mistake. They expected me to take the valium, get a shot in the jaw and then let him pull out my teeth while I was wide awake. Instead I shook so hard I rattled the chair, and once again I burst into tears. Sobbing, I kept telling them that the valium wasn't working, that I was hurting and I was frightened. The dentist finally got angry with me, and yelled that since I couldn't be calm there was nothing he could do for me. The guy made me feel stupid and horrible, and I was sobbing so hard I couldn't breathe.

The receptionist at the front desk referred me to an oral surgeon down off Medical Parkway. Thank god for that. The people there were so much nicer, and genuinely seemed sympathetic to my fears. They calmed me down, got new xrays and offered to take out all the wisdom teeth at once while I had an IV sedation. The dentist/surgeon was a younger fellow who plays polo and owns a horse. He explained things without being gruesome, and was very friendly. Plus, they had great music playing in the room for me. I fell asleep after an Evanesence song, I think. The guy truly went out of his way to put me at ease, and I'm so grateful. When I return for my followup visit, I think I will bring them a pie or something in thanks.

They let Alan sit with me as they put in the IV and the heart monitor. I barely remember passing out, and I only woke up when they helped load me into my car. Alan picked up my darvocet and we're home now. My hand is sore from the IV but that's okay. Taking pills is hard when your mouth is full of bloody gauze. Ick.

I can't really speak clearly, so don't call til tomorrow. Send me an email instead.

(no subject)

I'm still a little loopy from all the drugs. Apparently I was pretty funny when talking to the oral surgeon.

Alan says the guy was amazing, just in the way he talked to me. They went to great lengths to keep me calm, and they let Alan hold my hand as they put me under. Once they finished pulling my teeth, the brought Alan back in to make it seem as if he had never left. It's the little things, really.

I'm angry the evil dentist didn't tell me the right wisdom tooth was impacted and a potential disaster. The new doctor talked everything over with me very calmly, and it made sense to just take them all out at once. Right now I'm considering making a complaint to the state board about the dentist and the office that treated me so horribly. Who the hell thinks it is okay to pull out the teeth of a phobic, terrified patient without any kind of sedation and just a couple shots to the jaw? That valium did jack shit, by the way.

Alan made me a coffee vanilla latte smoothie. It was divine. I think it might be okay.