Having English Grandparents often entitles you to a heritage of lovely nursery rhymes, a good sense of humor and crowded teeth. I was dealing with the teeth part in my late twenties as usually everything else happened late with me in my life. My wisdom teeth were finally making their appearance and my dentist said all four had to go "no room".
My sweet and usually calm friend Judy heard that I was having all four extracted at once and expressed in shock and tearful horror how she had remembered the experience of only two wisdom teeth pulled at once. She begged me repeatedly to NOT do this as she remembered it as one of the most horrifying experiences of her life. I ignored her warnings.
Georgetown University had a decent dental clinic and the only bad thing about going there was the large number of people they processed. At least sixty were in the waiting area all sitting in metal folding chairs in a very brightly lighted large room. Everyone faced the center so you got to see the comings and goings, pain and anguish, every bit of it as the day progressed and you awaited your turn.
Finally, I was called and lead to a room with three students and a dentist who was a teacher, maybe. I hoped....
They were very serious and not really friendly. All there heads came forward to my face at once and starred hard at my mouth. "Open" said one, I obeyed. After that I only remember a number of shots of novocain that did not seem to work. Then they tried Valium and then more. I am slow on the drug uptake and they proceed finally. The drugs hit all at once. I'm giggling and squirming and drooling and don't give a rats *** anymore. It's all a riot.
I'm pretty sure a guy was standing on my chest hammering with a chisel and other tools. It all was very loud and nasty. They were determined to win. My stubborn wisdom teeth were also determined to stay in my head. Finally, the blurry white team won then left me alone.
A nurse came in gasped and left. What? WHAT??? She returned with a handfull of large cotton things that looked like tampons and stuffed them all in my mouth. My mouth wouldn't close anymore and I was mouth breathing pretty heavy. Making weird sounds and totally unable to talk. She lead me back out to the waiting room to the receptionist who sat behind a desk with a microphone.
The receptionist asked me who should she call for my ride home. She must have missed seeing how I was stuffed with cotton. I said as best as I could "Ah nee a caaa" What??? "AHHH NEE A CAAA!!!!!" I repeated. Sheeze! She finally looked at me then pushed a paper and pen to me as if I was an untouchable.
"I need a cab" I wrote and signed Barbara LeVasseur. I walked to an empty chair with all the other waiting patients. As I sat down a few got up and walked away from me. A lot more starred. Hmmmm.
Out of curiosity I pulled out a compact to see what was so interesting. My long curly hair was all snarled and wild. My face was splattered with speckles of blood and it was dried on my lips and teeth. The wads of cotton were pushing my face all out and distorted. But heck, I really didn't care. I was feeling pretty good and sat there at least a half hour breathing hard and chuckling to myself.
The receptionist called for me on the PA as my cab had arrived but she couldn't quite make out my name. "Miss Lovely, oh, Miss Lovely, your cab is here." She said loudly.
This didn't escape my heightened and resigned sense of humor as I rose to claim my ride I was nearly crying with laughter watching the horrified crowd anticipating their own fate. If this is what had once been "Miss Lovely" what was in it for them?
Something my wife wrote
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Something my wife wrote
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