So we head down to Dr. Ishley's office. I'm a nervous wreck when we walk in but we are greeted by the nicest people working the front desk. 10 minutes later I'm in the chair and wringing my hands. They do some tests to make sure of what's going on and take some more xrays and the fine doctor comes in to see me and explain the procedure. He can tell I'm nervous so he asks if I would like to have some gas. Now...normally I'd say no because I get enough gas as it is but then it dawns on me that he's not talking about that kind of gas. He's extremely professional and I'm impressed and decide I'd be a fool to not get the gas.
The assistant hooks things up and I start breathing in through my nose. Did I mention that I'm listening to Pink Floyd's Pulse Live show? She tells me to treat it like I'm water skiing and give her a thumbs up or down to adjust the gas level and I find myself giving her the thumbs up quite a bit. 15 minutes later she comes in to check on me and I'm feeling GREAT. Did I also mention that I'm watching a home makeover show on a tv that's in the ceiling? Now...this makes no sense but I think that combined with the fact that all the blood has rushed to my head it's actually enhancing my gas experience. She asks how I'm doing and I'm pretty sure I said, "Ohhhhhhh yeahhhhhhhhhhh." I think then I gave her a double thumbs up and asked if she could come back after Dark Side of the Moon. A few minutes later the doctor comes in to get things started and he asks how I'm doing and I spring to attention. For some reason I think I panicked that I was gonna get in trouble for being under the influence. It was the exact feeling you get rushing through your body when you've had 1 beer and get pulled over. I thought I was busted. I remember saying, "Oh.....I'm totally fine." Then I remember saying to myself, "You idiot...you freaked out and he know's it."
He was a professional though and didn't laugh at me. Then they gotta give me the shots. Now I can see him working in the reflection of the tv and I can feel the shots but I really don't give a shit at this point. If I focus on the reflection of him working I panic but if I watch the guy making a headboard out of an old ass door and breathe through my nose I could care less what the doctor does to me. Literally. I count 5 shots and I notice that he's giving these shots like he's at a bar playing darts. Just lobbin' them in. He knows what he's doing and I trust the guy but I'm sure he does this all day long. At one point I worry that he's thinking (or even saying outloud and I just can't comprehend it) "This guy's F*%@$d up and his tongue is all up in my way." Meanwhile I'm going back and forth between lampshades and eyeballin' him like I'm falling in love. The shots are done and they're gonna give me 10 minutes or so to trip out.
They come back and do some tests to make sure things are numb and I honestly felt the tooth right away. So....more darts and then another 10 minutes later and he goes to work. He stops and asks if I can feel anything and I tell him I can't even feel my ankles. My right ear is numb on the inside and that's really enhancing the gas because now my hearing's going in and out. I have no idea how long he worked on the tooth but it was a while.
They finished up and took me off the gas and told me that they were able to get all the infection out but that I have to come back to finish up the procedure. I ask if I can have more gas when I come back. YES!!!!! I'm already starting to put together a playlist for that visit and I'm open to suggestions. The tooth has been very sore for a few days now but the Vicodin is helping in that area.
No comments:
Post a Comment