It's Italian for wasp.
I had surgery Monday.
I went to Toledo, visited my Grandma and aunt before the surgery so they could see me with all of my teeth and fully awake. Then off to my Granny's to eat a smidge and take the Valium so that I wouldn't flip out. I don't understand the love for Valium. It's like, a really cheap buzz. Sort of like drinking alcohol too fast and then tap dancing blindfolded. My legs felt heavier and I kept stumbling around a bit and yawning. I was disappointed. People always had a bit of a wide-eyed response when I told them that I'd be on Valium...and then hit me up for a few. Uhm. No.
So anywho. I go to the office and sit down with my family and just talk, trying to get the last of the butterflies in my stomach to stop breakdancing for one fucking second so I could relax a bit, but it didn't work. They call me in, my mom walks in with me and I sit down. They talk to my mother for a bit and the butterflies dance even more and I feel like I'm going to be sick, but can't leave because the doctor comes in and shakes my hand and pats my shoulder. Like we're chums and such. Pfft. I look to my left and notice a large syringe and the usual unidentifiable dental tools. The nurse straps a bib on my neck, distracted me with a chapstick that smelled nasty and asked if I liked it.
"What?"
"Do you want bubblegum to be the flavor of your mask?"
"I...get to eat it?"
"No. To smell."
"Oh. Uh, sure."
So, she put the mask over my nose and the dentist tells my mother to leave and I make one last attempt for her to stay, but she leaves anyways. The dentist pats my hand and smiles like he knows how I feel and that he's doing me a favor. Pfft, again. He uncaps the syringe and I see a huge needle. Automatically, I flinch and explain why he can't do this and attempt to get up, but am "soothed" by the nurses and oral surgeon (which is what he really is/was). The needle goes into my gums and I can feel it. The nurses tell me I'm doing so well and that it's just a small pinch, but they're lying. The gas hasn't kicked in and my mouth feels like a small fire is slowly raging out of control. I feel more pain in my mouth and wonder if it's gnomes. My whole body feels tingly and I start feeling sleepy. The surgeon tells me that I'll feel some wiggling and pressure, but no pain. At this point, I stopped caring. They tell me to think of other things or to listen to my music, but I shake my head and listen to him rip bone from my face. :D I hardly feel the first tooth come out. Wiggling, yes. Pain, no. I'm excited. He takes out the next one and gives me a shot in the roof of my mouth.
A nurse grabs my hand and I squeeze it tightly. This shot is the worst so far. Tears start to form and I breathe deeply through my nose until I feel like I'm slowly sinking into the ground. I think that I'm sinking, like that scene from Monkeybone when he falls into the coma. Yes. I thought of Monkeybone while high on laughing gas. My mind entertains me. n_______n So, anywho. He tells me I'll feel a lot of pressure and that I'm doing so well. I think of things my friends say to me as he chats with the nurses about how narrow the roof of my mouth is and how tight it is, blah blah blah. My head is buzzing and the drill he's using on my teeth makes me think of popcorn. I hear clinking and am told that metal block is going in my mouth to "keep things in your mouth and not fall back into your throat". Don't care, la la la la la.
After that, it gets kind of fuzzy. I remember the nurse holding my hand and laughing about what people have said to me and asking to keep my teeth. What seemed like a few seconds later, they tell me that I'm all done and that they'll be putting me on oxygen to get rid of the groggyness I might feel. Once again, my memory fails me. I remember going to my Granny's and asking for ice. Taking Vicodin and passing out.
Good times.
I feel like I just wrote some long over-worded story. :DDD Which is probably true, but it's 4:30 A.M. Sue me.
I went to Toledo, visited my Grandma and aunt before the surgery so they could see me with all of my teeth and fully awake. Then off to my Granny's to eat a smidge and take the Valium so that I wouldn't flip out. I don't understand the love for Valium. It's like, a really cheap buzz. Sort of like drinking alcohol too fast and then tap dancing blindfolded. My legs felt heavier and I kept stumbling around a bit and yawning. I was disappointed. People always had a bit of a wide-eyed response when I told them that I'd be on Valium...and then hit me up for a few. Uhm. No.
So anywho. I go to the office and sit down with my family and just talk, trying to get the last of the butterflies in my stomach to stop breakdancing for one fucking second so I could relax a bit, but it didn't work. They call me in, my mom walks in with me and I sit down. They talk to my mother for a bit and the butterflies dance even more and I feel like I'm going to be sick, but can't leave because the doctor comes in and shakes my hand and pats my shoulder. Like we're chums and such. Pfft. I look to my left and notice a large syringe and the usual unidentifiable dental tools. The nurse straps a bib on my neck, distracted me with a chapstick that smelled nasty and asked if I liked it.
"What?"
"Do you want bubblegum to be the flavor of your mask?"
"I...get to eat it?"
"No. To smell."
"Oh. Uh, sure."
So, she put the mask over my nose and the dentist tells my mother to leave and I make one last attempt for her to stay, but she leaves anyways. The dentist pats my hand and smiles like he knows how I feel and that he's doing me a favor. Pfft, again. He uncaps the syringe and I see a huge needle. Automatically, I flinch and explain why he can't do this and attempt to get up, but am "soothed" by the nurses and oral surgeon (which is what he really is/was). The needle goes into my gums and I can feel it. The nurses tell me I'm doing so well and that it's just a small pinch, but they're lying. The gas hasn't kicked in and my mouth feels like a small fire is slowly raging out of control. I feel more pain in my mouth and wonder if it's gnomes. My whole body feels tingly and I start feeling sleepy. The surgeon tells me that I'll feel some wiggling and pressure, but no pain. At this point, I stopped caring. They tell me to think of other things or to listen to my music, but I shake my head and listen to him rip bone from my face. :D I hardly feel the first tooth come out. Wiggling, yes. Pain, no. I'm excited. He takes out the next one and gives me a shot in the roof of my mouth.
A nurse grabs my hand and I squeeze it tightly. This shot is the worst so far. Tears start to form and I breathe deeply through my nose until I feel like I'm slowly sinking into the ground. I think that I'm sinking, like that scene from Monkeybone when he falls into the coma. Yes. I thought of Monkeybone while high on laughing gas. My mind entertains me. n_______n So, anywho. He tells me I'll feel a lot of pressure and that I'm doing so well. I think of things my friends say to me as he chats with the nurses about how narrow the roof of my mouth is and how tight it is, blah blah blah. My head is buzzing and the drill he's using on my teeth makes me think of popcorn. I hear clinking and am told that metal block is going in my mouth to "keep things in your mouth and not fall back into your throat". Don't care, la la la la la.
After that, it gets kind of fuzzy. I remember the nurse holding my hand and laughing about what people have said to me and asking to keep my teeth. What seemed like a few seconds later, they tell me that I'm all done and that they'll be putting me on oxygen to get rid of the groggyness I might feel. Once again, my memory fails me. I remember going to my Granny's and asking for ice. Taking Vicodin and passing out.
Good times.
I feel like I just wrote some long over-worded story. :DDD Which is probably true, but it's 4:30 A.M. Sue me.