I’m having oral surgery in about an hour. I have an unnatural fear of dentists to begin with, due to my childhood dentist being my great-uncle who though that I didn’t need to bother with Novocaine for the little cavities. I assume we kept going to him because he was family.
So my periodontist decided to prescribe me some pills to relax me. I think that was probably a good idea, as I’m pretty sure my pulse rate is about double the norm.
I have a bad feeling I’m going to be leaving the periodontist’s office with an uneven number of teeth. And now that I thought of that, it’s going to bother me forever. Damn it.
Well. I made matzo ball soup yesterday in expectation of needing something soft and filling after the surgery.
I have no frame of reference for this. I have never had a scalpel taken to me in my life. I don’t have a single stitch in my body. I’ve had root canals, but those stop hurting a few hours after you get them done, usually. One hurt until the next day, but that’s because I had an extra root in the molar.
Oh, well. In a couple of hours, I’ll find out what it’s like to have all of the above, although I really hope I’m not going to find out what it’s like to have a tooth pulled.
The OCD part of me is going to actually count my teeth sometime in the next day or two, I’m sure.
Update: Woo-hoo! They’re all still there!
Off to bed now.