Who needs teeth anyway...

So, today I had two more teeth removed. Apparently some people can afford to lose six of their permanent teeth and still not have enough room in their tiny little mouths for all the leftovers. Such is the case with me—trying to make room for corrective lower jaw surgery in a few months. Aren’t you looking forward to me blogging about that???

My sweet hubby took me to the appointment this morning. He was okay with spending his time this way as long as we were able to pick up the new tv he bought on the way home. Two birds, one stone. I was all for it.

After a pep talk from the doctor about “yes, we think you need this procedure” and “yes, we do have to remove these teeth to get there”, they numbed me up quite nicely, jerked out the teeth and sent me on my way. What a sight I was, though! I realized as the nurse opened the door and led me out that I was re-entering the public with two wads of bloody gauze hanging out of my mouth and a lower lip and tongue that could neither feel nor move.

I tried to hide the mess with my hand and wanted to duck out quickly, but of course I couldn’t leave without the obligatory stop at the cashier. I sprint-walked to the counter and tried not to look at anyone directly in the eye. I also kept touching my face to be sure I wasn’t drooling on anything. The kind lady took my payment and when she finally returned after an eternity of me wanting to crawl into a hole she says, “Hey! Didn’t I see you at kickboxing last week?”

Awesome.

Someone I barely know would like to start a conversation right at this moment….this moment when I have a bulging, drooly face and am unable to utter one intelligible syllable. She starts asking about the North Carolina t-shirt I wore last week and if I liked the kickboxing class and if I was going to be there tonight. All I could come up with was something like, “Ye ah ike eh i. Nah u-ay.” I waved apologetically and dashed out the door.

Richard was waiting for me in the lobby. He’s seen me in bad shape before, but never quite like this. He stuffed a laugh as I tried unsuccessfully to say something meaningful. We jumped in the car and as promised, we headed over to our friend’s house to pick up the new (i.e. hand-me-down) tv. Our friends live in a gated community, so we always have to introduce ourselves to gain entrance. The car in front of us at the gate took quite a while and Richard mockingly said under his breath, “Yes, hi, we’re here to steal things.” Once it was our turn, he managed to respectfully make his intentions known and as we drove through the gate, he said, “Some security…the [people we’re visiting] aren’t even home!”

Thanks to the help of the electronic installer dudes at our friend’s house, he got the massive tv loaded up into the SUV. By this point, my blood and spit have soaked through the little gauze pads and so as we’re pulling away, I ask him to stop at the side of the road so I can switch them out. Dis…gust….ing! He comments, “Yeah, this doesn’t look shady AT ALL…” meaning that of course it’s completely not normal to be driving out of this place with a swiped tv that you picked up from people who weren’t even home in a neighborhood where you don’t belong and with a bloody-mouthed woman in the front seat….it was like bad scene from CSI.

I still couldn’t feel anything from the bottom half of my face, so I was quite shocked when once on the highway with our loot I look down to find that I had managed to drool blood down my neck and the front of my black coat. I start shrieking. Richard says comfortingly, “Well, it could be worse. At least it’s not from your va-jay-jay.”

So, now it’s the evening. The tv is currently beaming the NBA on TNT into our basement in a whole new level of high-definition love. I can feel my face and the two gaping holes in my mouth are no longer gushing. Richard asked if I kept the teeth. I asked, “Whatever for?!” He said, “Ten bucks, baby!” I’ll have to consult with the Tooth Fairy about that one....I'm sure in all the mayhem I've broken AT LEAST one of her rules.