Your Heart is Made of Stone

I don’t like to think of myself as a whiner or a complainer, however, I am something of a whiner and a complainer. It doesn’t really matter what I would like, the fact remains that I am something of a baby when it comes to pain and discomfort. I’ve heard that there are people out there that can just shrug off things such as “flesh wounds” and fight the great battle against diseases that are attacking their bodies.

I really wish I was one of those people, but until I have to fight the great fight, I suppose I will never know just how I will react. Let’s just say that maybe…perhaps…I might be someone that my loved ones can be proud of once I lose the fight.

Today I had an 8:20 appointment with my favourite dentist Dr. Julie and her sidekick Sarah. It was an 8:20 appointment because there was a lot of work to be done and she is the kind of person that wants to get the tough jobs done first I suppose. Kind of like eating the brussel sprouts first so that you can enjoy the rest of the meal. Whatever the reason, I was there until 12:20, which for those of you who are math challenged, is four hours.

I like both Julie and Sarah, but not four hours worth of like. There was a point there when Dr. Julie was complaining about how sore her hands were from holding the drill. Her hands were sore??? That was my mouth that she was grinding on, and let me tell you that as sore as her hands were, my mouth was much worse. She accused me of making it difficult for her because the bleeding wouldn’t stop and she couldn’t see very well. Ahhhhh…excuse me! Maybe if you didn’t keep jabbing me with the razor sharp picks there wouldn’t be any blood.

I had been in the chair for about two and a half hours when she said “I was afraid of that.” Not what I wanted to hear at all. Turns out that I had to make a decision about whether I would like to have a tooth pulled out or gum surgery. The surgery would be more expensive but possibly, maybe, better than having the tooth pulled. Both would require more freezing and eventual pain, but it was up to me. Yes, good idea, if anyone would know which procedure would be better it would be me with all of my dental training. I thought that’s why I paid the dentist to do what she does. What the fuck do I know?

In the end, I went with the surgery and stitches. I understand that chicks dig scars. That may be true, but if some chick gets close enough to see that particular scar, Louise will more than likely scratch her eyes out.

Since I managed to get home, I have been over medicating myself on all of the over the counter drugs I have in the house. I’m not sure I will remember to breathe when I am asleep tonight and there is a possibility I just might wet the bed for the first time in years. Could be an interesting night.

If this is the last blog, have a good life. If I do make it through the night I will talk to you tomorrow.

What? No pity? Your heart is made of stone.