Tuesday, January 10, 2012

In case of emergency

You know what sucks? Being 39. You know what else sucks? Being 39 and having to list your mother as your "in case of emergency" contact person. You know what sucks even more than that? Having an emergency, calling your mother THREE TIMES and she doesn't even bother to answer the phone. The FOURTH time I called, she picked it up and said, "Lisa, I can't talk right now," and hung up the phone. NICE! Now one might think, "Well, maybe she didn't know it was an emergency." That is definitely a fair assessment to make if she hadn't answered the first time I called. But FOUR times!! Come on, Lady! (That is what I call her. Come to think of it, maybe if I didn't call her "Lady," she would be more inclined to answer my calls). But seriously, people! She knew I was going to the dentist for a filling. And while that might not seem like a big deal to some of you (or her), to me...it's a big freakin' deal. Especially when while at the dentist I develop a case of trismus!!! That's right. I went to the dentist and left with a case of lockjaw!! What is up with that?
There is a reason I prefer a pap smear a million times over a set of bite wings.
I mean, my dentist is awesome (I would totally link to her here if it weren't for the little case of lockjaw she gave me), but when she started to drill into my tooth after my first two injections of Novocain and I jumped several inches off the chair following the sensation of severe pain, she gave me a third injection. More drilling...more pain...more jumping. Here comes injection number four. Drill...pain...jump. I was starting to feel slightly frustrated. FOUR injections of Novocain? I figured that she figured I was full of crap. Hell, I started to wonder if I was full of crap. Who feels anything after four shots? Ha...I know what you're thinking. Four shots of tequila would have done the trick! Not before noon please. Anyway, that's when I started apologizing for complaining about the pain and asked her how long the drilling was going to last, because maybe if I was prepared for it, I could just deal with it. She laughed an evil laugh (really, it was evil) and told me that it was going to last long enough that I didn't want to feel it. She then informed me that she was going to have to give me the heavy stuff at this point which she didn't give me at the beginning because I'm "so tiny!" Oh my word, I had a laugh over that one!!! And made a mental note to wear my long, denim, gap skirt from ebay every other day from here on out. So, she gave out the BIG SHOT, told me to relax for five minutes until it numbed me up good and then came back to start drilling again. Anyone have any idea what happened when she came back in with a sing song-y, "Open wide!!" Yeah...not exactly! Hello Trismus!! Hello next few days of eating applesauce and other bowls of mush. I can't even be all, "Ooh...this is great. Just what I need to lose those last five ten pounds because guess what? You don't need to chew ice cream!!
Truth is, my jaw is pretty much back in working order now, but you must be crazy if you think I'm telling my mother that...even if she does answer the phone the next time I call.

You know, this never would have happened if this had been my dentist:

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