Looking Like a Bobblehead Doll

Disclaimer: This photo has absolutely nothing to do with this post...I just like it!

I made myself as comfortable as I possibly could in the chair and looked around. Ah, pastel blues and golds on the wall, meant to be soothing, and if I hadn't spied the tray with the instruments of torture in plain view, I probably would not have had to resort to some deep breathing.

They really should cover that tray.

Dr. E entered and greeted me warmly, with a cheerful, "How are you doing?"

"I'm here," was about all I could manage.

I continued to sign paperwork; so much paperwork. Paperwork in the lobby. Paperwork in the dental chair. Paperwork that told me everything that could go wrong.

And, then the fun began...oral surgery which lasted 3 1/2 hours, involving about 25 shots.

I can only estimate the number of shots since I stopped counting at 18.

I can't tell you the exact number of rosaries I prayed either, not even trying to keep count.

And, there was a lot of deep breathing along with forcing myself to relax into the chair, no easy feat, especially as I heard the drill and knew it was drilling into my jawbone.

Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.

And, it was over. Done.

But not quite.

The plan was for the nice doc to pull teeth, put in some implants, and give me my new teeth.

Teeth pulled. Check.

New titanium implants. Check. (Will I set off security alarms? Well, guess I'll find that one out!)

New implants. Nope...too much swelling.

Go home, take your meds, relax (yeah, right) and come back on Friday. Oh, and are you in pain?

Yes.

Would you like me to numb you again.

No, thanks!!!

Forward 24 hours: I looked in the mirror and  realized my face was swelling...yikes, an allergic reaction to the meds.

Phil called the dentist, who said to substitute Tylenol for one med, and to take myself immediately to the emergency room if my throat swelled and I had trouble breathing.

My face continued to swell, but luckily my throat never did...but I sure was rocking the bobble head doll look!

The 6 year old grand did a double take when he saw me. I reassured him that it would go away. He pronounced it weird but not scarey. And, God bless that child, after the initial gaze of disbelief, continued to visit with me and hug me.

Oh, yeah, I also now sported some bruises on my face and could only eat smooth, cold food.

Talk about being hungry! Nothing like being told you can't eat to make you want to eat.

I have now graduated to hot food...still pretty much whatever doesn't need to be chewed, which really does limit options.

The bruises are faded, and I've been back to the doc again, but since there is still some swelling, have to wait a few more days to get the teeth.

Life is just a bit surreal at this moment, but honestly, as I sat in that chair, I realized that while it was painful and I was NOT having fun, better things lay ahead. I'm not fighting cancer or some other major illness, and other folks had gotten through the procedure. I could and would, as well.

Life does seem to be a sort of comedy of errors, though!