Earlier this afternoon, I had occasion to remember this bright moment from my past:
I was in labor, by then for about 35 hours. (Yes, that's right.) I had not so much refused drugs; they hadn't really been offered. I was only just then going into hard labor. I had had a day and a half of annoying, yet surprisingly unproductive labor. I never felt the urge to push. Wait, I'm digressing.
I remembered what the Lamaze instructor had said about not being so brave and insistent on not having drugs or necessary procedures that one ended up giving birth to a meatball instead of a live baby. (Her words, not mine.) So, 35 hours down the road, when the doctor said he was going to give me a spinal and use the old tongs forceps, I did not say, as an idiot would have, "Why, no thank you doctor, I'm fine." I said "THANK GOD! IT'S ABOUT TIME! ANYTHING TO GET THIS OVER WITH!" And voila, thus appeared the lovely R.
I remembered this about 3:30 this afternoon when I found myself telling this story to the dentist. Shortly thereafter, I heard all kinds of horrid things going on in my mouth and when he paused and I asked him what was going on, he said, as I expected him to, "Root canal." I wondered when exactly I had said to go ahead with that. Then I remembered: it was seconds after I told him the labor story, which ended with me telling him to do ANYTHING TO GET RID OF THIS DAMN TOOTHACHE!
So I am now the proud owner and operator of a brand new root canal, my very first one ever. So far, I've still got the toothache and now of course my whole jaw is sore. Looking forward to a better tomorrow.
In other news, I did go the eye surgeon at lunch who gave me a whole anatomy lesson and twenty minutes later said that yes, he thinks he should lower the eyelid a bit. Yes. I knew that. All I needed was for him to look at me, say "Yeah, right, here's when we'll do it." But I had to think of something while he was going on and on about facial nerves and lachrimal glands, most of which I'd heard before, and this was it. This is my third surgery with this doctor, so I've seen him lots before. He always wears blue scrubs, both in the office and in the hospital. He's somewhere in the area of 50, I suppose, with very blue eyes (the scrubs help) and great silver gray hair with a touch of black, now thinning, but still, great hair, well styled. He's very trim. He has a lovely warm and personable manner. He's a very good looking man. And as he droned on and on, I thought: "He's the absolute classic high school science nerd! He just hit his stride looks-wise somewhere along the way, and he's a surgeon of fine reputation, and now, people have to listen to him! He's like a pig in shit!"
Anyway, his office will get back to me about scheduling the surgery. I hope my tooth is better by then.
--------------------------------------------------
I'm watching King of Queens
--------------------------------------------------
last ::
next
Sweet Sorrow - 06.12.2007
So ... - 12.19.2006
Christmastime Is Near - 12.18.2006
Fifteen Years - 12.17.2006
A Message From Our Sponsor - 12.16.2006
|
