I now have one less tooth in my mouth than I did an hour and a half ago. My dentist had warned me that my upper left wisdom tooth (#16, for those of you playing along at home) contained a fairly large nonfillable hole and might eventually crack and endanger teeth around it, requiring oral surgery and lots of icky stuff like that, if I left it in too long. So I chose the first weekday of my summer vacation to get it extracted, removed, taken out, pulled on like a mofo until I gagged and choked on bile and blood and... where was I? Oh yes, that lovely gag reflex. Came right as the tooth was almost out. Took almost half an hour for said reflex to compose itself enough for Dr. S to take an x-ray that determined yes, the tooth apparently came out cleanly but, whoa, there's still Something in there. She's apparently, eerily unconcerned about that Something, as she has pronounced my tooth Weird to begin with, but she'll be seeing me tomorrow anyway to make sure everything's okay, which means no trip down to Jersey to see Mom and Dad. I'd need an overnight for that, and I'd already scheduled my boobie-squeezing for Thursday - which ought to have been an annual joyride but between my company having changed insurance carriers twice in two years and a 6-month waitlist at the hospital that had done it the previous time, God Bless America, it's been over 2½ years since I've been able to get one... I get the feeling other women probably don't do this on their vacations. They all relax and eat bon-bons, don't they? I do my wool wash, gather the trash, get a tooth out, prepare one last update to the Women Doing Comics and Industrial Strength Women lists before handing them over to
Monday, July 21, 2003
31-derful
I now have one less tooth in my mouth than I did an hour and a half ago. My dentist had warned me that my upper left wisdom tooth (#16, for those of you playing along at home) contained a fairly large nonfillable hole and might eventually crack and endanger teeth around it, requiring oral surgery and lots of icky stuff like that, if I left it in too long. So I chose the first weekday of my summer vacation to get it extracted, removed, taken out, pulled on like a mofo until I gagged and choked on bile and blood and... where was I? Oh yes, that lovely gag reflex. Came right as the tooth was almost out. Took almost half an hour for said reflex to compose itself enough for Dr. S to take an x-ray that determined yes, the tooth apparently came out cleanly but, whoa, there's still Something in there. She's apparently, eerily unconcerned about that Something, as she has pronounced my tooth Weird to begin with, but she'll be seeing me tomorrow anyway to make sure everything's okay, which means no trip down to Jersey to see Mom and Dad. I'd need an overnight for that, and I'd already scheduled my boobie-squeezing for Thursday - which ought to have been an annual joyride but between my company having changed insurance carriers twice in two years and a 6-month waitlist at the hospital that had done it the previous time, God Bless America, it's been over 2½ years since I've been able to get one... I get the feeling other women probably don't do this on their vacations. They all relax and eat bon-bons, don't they? I do my wool wash, gather the trash, get a tooth out, prepare one last update to the Women Doing Comics and Industrial Strength Women lists before handing them over toa willing dupe someone with possibly more time and enthusiasm for the project than I've been able to devote this past six months, and make tentative plans to organize my comics files. Oh yeah, and prep for Blogathon 2003 - T-Minus 5 Days - Please sponsor me (see top of sidebar). Like my now-gone wisdom tooth, I guess I'm just Weird that way.
I now have one less tooth in my mouth than I did an hour and a half ago. My dentist had warned me that my upper left wisdom tooth (#16, for those of you playing along at home) contained a fairly large nonfillable hole and might eventually crack and endanger teeth around it, requiring oral surgery and lots of icky stuff like that, if I left it in too long. So I chose the first weekday of my summer vacation to get it extracted, removed, taken out, pulled on like a mofo until I gagged and choked on bile and blood and... where was I? Oh yes, that lovely gag reflex. Came right as the tooth was almost out. Took almost half an hour for said reflex to compose itself enough for Dr. S to take an x-ray that determined yes, the tooth apparently came out cleanly but, whoa, there's still Something in there. She's apparently, eerily unconcerned about that Something, as she has pronounced my tooth Weird to begin with, but she'll be seeing me tomorrow anyway to make sure everything's okay, which means no trip down to Jersey to see Mom and Dad. I'd need an overnight for that, and I'd already scheduled my boobie-squeezing for Thursday - which ought to have been an annual joyride but between my company having changed insurance carriers twice in two years and a 6-month waitlist at the hospital that had done it the previous time, God Bless America, it's been over 2½ years since I've been able to get one... I get the feeling other women probably don't do this on their vacations. They all relax and eat bon-bons, don't they? I do my wool wash, gather the trash, get a tooth out, prepare one last update to the Women Doing Comics and Industrial Strength Women lists before handing them over to
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
0 comments:
Post a Comment