McDonald's Milkshakes as a diet plan

The next phase of dentistry occurred today. As I told my friend Jeffery, when this is over I'd better damn well be f****** gorgeous!

And, I wish I had the talent Crystal has in describing getting stoned on nitrous oxide. But, sadly, I don't, so if you haven't read her wonderful blog on this subject yet, please go here:

I'm a baby where pain is concerned if it's in my head. You wanna amputate my leg? Sure, go ahead - even better, numb that sucker up and let me watch you do it! But, if the pain will involve any part of me from shoulders up, I'm just...a big wuss.

Nitrous oxide is my friend.

What I don't get is why I have to fight for it every time I have a major procedure? It's there and available at the periodontist's office...and it's charted that the procedure will go far more easily if they give me that little extra.

But, the assistant, upon hearing my request to get the nitrous ready, said, "Ohhhh, you don't need nitrous...Dr. R will get you all numbed up so you don't feel a thing."

Uh-huh. Yeah, I've heard that one on more than one occasion, and have claw marks in ceilings to attest that my idea of novacaine and theirs are decidedly different.

I'm paying the bill, right? I mean, after all, who else will they be sending the bill to to cover what insurance doesn't? And, if I'm gonna pay, I'm damn well gonna be pain free and relaxed as much as possible.

I sound like a frequent flyer, don't I?

I am in that class of people that medical personnel regard as pain in the asses.

GIVE ME DRUGS!

Truth told, I'd love to be tough and just get through whatever without pain meds. I just can't do it. And, I've yet to see a dentist advertise that they do their procedures on patients who are hanging from the ceiling. Actually, that sounds a little on the S & M side. Hmmm...maybe I need to look for dentists in the back of adult magazines or something! ;)

So, anyway, after a ten minute exchange with the assistant, who kept trying to convince me to allow novacaine only, my agitation level was already beginning to climb. I mean, sheesh, the plan was to slice open both my inside and outside jawbones and scrape and grind and burn body parts.

And, I've yet to find a dentist yet who'll believe me when I tell them to just automatically give me twice as much novacaine as a normal patient and not be surprised when they have to give me yet still more.

He was a little patronizing. "We'll just see what Dr. R says when she gets in here."

Little did he know that had she refused I'd have said, "Fine. No nitrous, no Kate."

He even went as far as saying that it didn't matter that the chart plainly said that I should have nitrous. He's trying to get into dental school. I should have offered to give him a reference so I could let them know that already he's showing signs of not caring for the patient and their individual needs.

Dr. R, of course, simply said, "Have the tanks been turned on yet?"

Once the procedure began, there was no turning back. They'd scheduled an hour and a half. I was in there for three.

Dr. R is very good. But she kept telling me that I'd feel a little sleepy from the nitrous. Duh. I think you actually call it "stoned" Doc. Yup, I know how I'll feel. I'll get nice and numb-ish, and I'll lay very still, and let them have their way with me. I'll be surprised every time they tell me to 'open wider' because as far as I'm concerned my mouth is hanging open enough to drive a semi through.

I know when I've had enough and they need to let me start breathing plain old air again. I really do begin to get the giggles. Everything becomes absurd, and my toes go numb.

And, I cry. Gods help me, I'm just plain ashamed of it, but the tears just start seeping out of my eyes. At least I do know enough to tell them that this is normal and to not get shook up over it. Just wipe my eyes and go on. I'm not *sobbing* crying. It just seems to be that working around my face starts off that response, and it's just plain enhanced by any sort of painkiller or anesthesia. My kids inherited it from me. We've all learned to pat each other in sympathy and just mop up the particular patient and go on.

Anyway, once we got started - or rather, once they got me in a headlock and kept me down - I was surrounded by body parts. I had a huge man's hard thigh resting up on one side of my face, neck and shoulder, and the dentist's more-than-average breast pressed up against my other side.

Where's that adult magazine again? Oh, yeah, I got that ad under the "Kinky Threesomes" heading.

To say the least, the surgery was not pleasant. It began okay and stayed so until she was ready to do the inside top of my mouth. Her first cut had me arching right out of the chair.

"Can you feel that?"

Hell no I can't feel it! Didn't you read the choreographer's notes? This is the part where I'm supposed to arch and twist my old body into a pretzel, remember?

Pardon the sarcasm.

So after even more numbing and a break for the doc, we went on. Or, they did. When the top was done, she took another break to check on waiting patients. The assistant acted somewhat annoyed when I told him that I wanted to sit up for a minute.

Tough. Not only that, I had to pee.

"Ah 'af to bee."

"You what?"

"Ah 'af to bee...you know...go botty."

"You do?"

"Gyesh, unlesch yew want be tew do the bee bee dance while yew work."

He finally let me get up and go to the bathroom after making me promise to not lock the door in case I passed out. I didn't look in the mirror while I was in there. I was afraid to see all the blood on my face.

I could hear him standing outside the door. Like Madonna said in A League of Their Own, I did some "good peein'."

The next round went far smoother. Apparently my upper jaw is quite a jumbled mess of roots and nerves that really create tangled nerve endings. So, since Nature is generally kind about those things, the lower jaw is pretty straightforward. Thank the gods.

She finished her task and applied this pink stuff which they actually call a bandage to all the sutured places. That stuff has to stay on for the next several days. I can't even brush my teeth on that side, instead just have to make sure I peroxide and saltwater rinse.

I was still a bit under the influence when I stood up. But, I took a moment to steady myself and head out to the front desk to make a after-care appointment.

I always wonder if I'm the stupid one? The perky receptionist said, "How about Tuesday the 24 at whatevertime? That's two weeks from now."

I said, "Um. I'm going to be in here to get the other side done on the 25th at 10:15. Why don't you just check me then?"

And Perky and the Assistant looked at me like I was the crazy one.

Finally, Assistant said in a doubtful voice, "But, we need to see you before your next appointment."

I said, "Is one day going to make a difference?"

And Perky said, "Well, I didn't know you had an appointment on the 25th."

For godsakes. Do you suppose that could be why I mentioned it?

After I finally got them to understand reason, I visited with the assistant for awhile. Then the dentist came out and asked me if I was all right, for she'd been worried about me with the nitrous. She said I was really sleepy. I told her that it was a very normal nitrous experience and she shouldn't worry. I'm sure more of the problem was that I'd been sucking the stuff in for over two hours, which is, I'll admit, longer than usual. But, I'll re-explain that next time and let her know that I will be able to tell her when to turn the stuff off.

So, no solid food for three or four days. Robert brought me McDonald's milkshakes at lunch time and there are still a couple more in the freezer. I'm supposed to have popsicles and snowcones and soup and mashed potatoes and anything that will let me avoid chewing and accidentally poking myself in the sutures.

Works for me.

And, I get to repeat the whole process on the other side in two weeks. Oh joy.