A recent post-op picture of me...

Dental Drama

Well, well, well... I've been totally out of action for the last few days because of the HIDEOUS dental operation I was forced to undergo that was everything i thought it would be and much much more. The indignation I feel has made me want to vent, and the venting has taken the form of blogging. What was supposed to be "a doddle", "really straight forward", "totally fine" actually veared into the nightmare-esque because basically... the sedation DID NOT WORK!!! So i was totally conscious and panicky and frustrated that the guy (dentist and wannabe self-help guru who looked like Gerard DePardieux in a BAD way) had partronised me and mocked me for 'taking the easy way out' and not going under local only, telling me my teeth would pop out like four little supositories. (His charming imagery should have been enough of warning of things to come..) GORRY DENTAL DETAILS TO FOLLOW... SKIP AHEAD IF PRONE TO SQUEEMISHNESS!!! See the thing is that on top of the 4 wisdom teeth that where to be extracted, i was going in to have this problem ive been having with a receeding gum at the front on the bottom teeth sorted, and the dentist was going to cut away that bit of skin that attaches your lip to your bottom gums to stop the gum from further receeding. (euuuughh...) I was already predisposed to disliking the 'dentist' since the first consultation where he was extrememly condecending and dained to pop-psychoanalyse me because my mum had the misfortune to mentioned that i am prone to panic attacks in the hopes that he might be a mildly more understanding as to why i was nervous about the whole thing. What followed was a 15 minute diatribe about being from a middle class background and that my parents listened and humoured me too much and that all one had to to do fight anxiety was just to stop being afraid. And anyway, im a pretty girl so what do i have to worry about?! Damn... If only i had thought of that! So basically, after ripping out my teeth he did this whole other procedure without even mentioning to me before or during what he was he was going to do. This consisted of cutting a whole bit of skin from my pallet and graffting it on the bottom of my gums with stitches. So all in all it was a very traumatic and extremely sore experience, not to mention the kurfuffle i got into from being completely bloody CONSCIOUS the whole time. Then i was carted to some 'recovery room' which was basically a hall that people kept walking through and wondering what the hell i was doing lying vaguely covered in some sheets with ly shoes still on. My mouth was full of blood but i couldnt spit it out cause my lips were all numb so i just had to stay lying with the taste of haemoglobin in my mouth. Awfullll... I got home and was in a hightened state of anxiety for several hours, the events of the day on repeat in my mind until eventually i fell asleep. Yesterday i was feeling a lot better but still a bit weird. I have all these threads that are in the front that make me queezy when i think about it that i'll have to get taken out in 2 weeks by some random person in London which is quite weird and stresfull to think about. Today im feeling pretty sore, basically on the bit of my palet he cut off and the front where the graft is. For some reason im a lot more conscious of the 4 holes i now have instead of teeth. So i've been having a bit of a tv-show marathon, watching Dawson's Creek and Gray's Anatomy and feeling bitter that my hospital wasnt at allll as cool as the one in Seattle and the doctors aren't half as glamourous or sexy. Also the Belge surgeons all wear these morbid plastic clogs that make me feel very uncomfortable and the walls where painted a colour that is the pigmentational equivalent of fear and loathing.. Well anyway, just had to get that off my chest. I shall take myself and my gammy mouth off to watch some quality Warner Brothers family entertainement and berate myself for not having a vocabulary as developed as Dawson, Joey and Pacy..