Dentist Doom

This entry includes the sentence: My mom is just excited cause I will draw her pictures that resemble a four year olds masterpiece while still totally drugged up and seeing unicorns again. (See? Now you want to read it).

Last week I went to the dentist. I have NEVER had even a neutral experience there. See: Bruising and Torture.

And of course, this past visit was no different. I actually was meant to go in quite awhile ago (its probably been a year), but with our New Zealand extravaganza, I just kind of ignored it. Well, my top wisdom teeth are all the way in, and the only way to get them out is to get a referral. So once again, suckered into the dentist.

That being said, when I got my bottom wisdom teeth out near a decade ago, he told me that there were no top wisdom teeth on the x-rays, and by that age, they should be at least visible in x-ray by now, so I had been lucky enough to escape top ones. CLEARLY WRONG.

There's more to that part of the story, but I feel like I should share the beginning of my lovely day at the dentist. It's typical to be in the office for close to two hours between all the waiting between steps that you have to do at my dentist, he beyond overbooks and is always late. But I arrived around 9:50 for my 10am appointment. Checked in, sat down.

Waited. 10am hits. Two guys walk in within five minutes of each other, both are taken back to their rooms before they can even sit down in the waiting room. I get annoyed that I have been there ten minutes and they just get to walk in. So I go up and "check" to make sure my appointment was at 10 (read: reminding the community college graduate behind the desk that I was still waiting).

She responds, "It's only 10:05"
"Well, yeah, but those two guys walked right in so I just wondered...."
"They have different hygienists than you, yours will be done soon"

All with immense attitude. I sat down and contemplated the concept of pre-assigning the hygienists and the complete annoyance of such practice.

Finally being shown into a room, forced into small talk where I showed my heinous side of how unhappy the dentist makes me in order to shut the woman up so I don't have to talk with her hands in my mouth, I tell her about my top wisdom teeth. She pulls up my x-ray and says,

WAIT FOR IT

"Oh yes, I see your bottom left tooth poking through"

Yup. Remember up to the top of the story that I had my bottom wisdom teeth removed years back. They don't exist. And this moron of a lady is claiming to see them on my x-ray. I swear its to get me to like her and stop being so angsty.

I don't care. I judge her ferociously and continue the rest of my visit. Ugh.

Then there was quite a glorious argument with the lady scheduling the surgery about my insistance about going under during the extraction. I think by the end of it the lady understood that if I was this bitchy awake and at the END of appointment, no one should have to deal with me during the process of terrifying me half to death and making me bleed from the mouth.

My mom is just excited cause I will draw her pictures that resemble a four year olds masterpiece while still totally drugged up and seeing unicorns again. The humor she finds in my pain.... *sigh*

Two weeks from tomorrow I will be short two more teeth. I am now accepting get well gifts, cards, as well as poetry. ESPECIALLY since Tim will be working during my recovery, and I will be left at the hands of my mother, who clearly has shown her sympathy traits above....No really. Feel free. ;-)