Wednesday, May 27, 2009

YES, I INHALED

I was flat on my back. The face looking down at me was vaguely familiar. I slowly realized the last time I had seen her; she had been an unruly teen hiding behind a curtain of dark hair. “Do you want the gas?” No wonder I did not recognize her. I had never seen those charming eyes. But she was so YOUNG and she was poised behind a tray full of very sharp steel instruments. “Yes, by all means, bring on the gas.” I inhaled both lungs full. Dr. S. sat down behind my right shoulder. When he bent over I could see the hair in his nose. I trusted Dr. S. He’d had his hands in the mouth of all my children. Once he had put everything on hold to stop a pain in my jaw that threatened to make my head explode. His office sported more new digital equipment every time I stopped by. But there was that same NEEDLE stabbing into my mouth and threatening to shoot out the back of my neck. I have found that silently reciting poetry helps me disregard alarming situations. I shut my eyes and got through most of John Masefield’s “Sea Fever” (“I must go down to the seas again”), when the drilling and slurping started. An old silver filling was being replaced with a pretty white porcelain job in a back molar. The nitrous oxide was making my brain foggy (Try something easier, uh, “Whose woods these are I think I know,”) I smelled smoke. (My head is on fire!….. “His house is in the village, though.”) Brown Eyes handed Dr. S. something that looked like a plate of bubble gum. (“He will not see me”….uh…duh). “Bite down…hmmm a little high” (Yeah, I think I am). “How does that feel?” Dr. S. grinned. My tongue felt like a hunk of raw liver. The whole left side of my face was dead. “Pleddy Gub! Flls fwine!” Dr. S. left. Brown Eyes brought me down from the gas and sent me out the door. I sat in my car with dried drool on my face. I looked in the mirror with slightly crossed eyes at the glistening white in the back of my mouth. I wondered if I should be behind the wheel in this condition. I took the back streets home.

8 comments:

DayPhoto said...

Goodness! I hope you are alright now!

Linda
http://coloradofarmlife.wordpress.com

Linda Sue said...

You are so lucky to have a dentist that uses GAS! my husband is a dentist- he will not use the stuff because of the brain damage thing...what he does instead is be gentle, competent quick and reasuring. Some people fall asleep while being worked on by him...Some forgo any sort of numbing agent...not me- I LIKE gas- I wish he would use it- My brain is already damaged and I am blond- where's the harm???

Flea said...

At that point I'd have been reciting,
"Roses are red
Violets are blue
Sugar is addictive
And gas is too"

Jeannelle said...

My goodness...I didn't know any dentists used gas. Mine uses only fun old novacaine shots. Sorry you had to undergo this unpleasant procedure, but what a great post you've made out of it, Leenie! Excellent!

The Weaver of Grass said...

That is the best description of going to the dentist that I have ever read Leenie! You make it sound so horrific - don't envy you that drive home!

Woman in a Window said...

And INSANTLY my mouth is filled with that, that, that horrible taste that accompanies needles. DAMN you!!!

Butternut Squash said...

There are so many pain killers now that they didn't use before. When the put cortisone in my foot they spray iced it first then numbed the nerve then gave me a shot right in the hurty part. And the word verification is...coma.

rhymeswithplague said...

What a great suggestion! I shall have to remember it next time I go to the dentist! (It was many and many a year ago, in a kingdom by the sea....)