I’m fairly certain I am going to have at least one wisdom tooth taken out, soon. I will find out at my dentist appointment tomorrow. If there’s one thing I am super bad at it is making appointments to take care of ME. I couldn’t tell you the last time I got a haircut. And please don’t ask me when the last time I visited Argentina for a Brazilian was. It just seems like when I call to make an appointment for anything I am required to play the game I like to call, “Well, when would you like to come in?” Well, secretary, now that you are asking, I would LOVE to come in at 4pm on a Tuesday, but, then, you’d have to drive to my kids’ school and pick them up and then babysit. Oh, you don’t provide that service? WELL THEN WHY IN THE HELL ARE YOU ASKING ME WHEN I’D *LIKE* TO COME IN??! So, then we play the follow up game I like to call, “Well, this is what we have available” and I can promise you that there’s not a single appointment for the next eight months that is convenient.
So, I do what any sensible person would do.
I hang up and make no appointment at all.
Obviously. It’s the only answer.
Only now I have reached the point where I can barely open my mouth on the left side, due to the wisdom tooth that seems to be growing in…sideways, as in, towards my cheek. (I currently have mad sympathy for teething babies everywhere, OMG)
And this is proving to be inconvenient and incredibly painful at yawning time. Seriously. Every time I yawn, I reach for the extra-strength tylenol, and we have been on “vacation” for the last two weeks and if you know what life is like with three children who are not going to school then you can probably take a little stab and guess how much coffee I have been drinking, how much yawning I have been doing, and how much Tylenol I have been consuming. I won’t make you guess. The answer is a lot. So, after making three different appointments and having to reschedule several times, I am now, most certainly going to the dentist tomorrow.
This, of course, means all sorts of fun things like getting yelled at for not flossing enough and gagging on those little white x-ray fuckers that are way too big for my mouth and cut into my gums and make me cry. (Seriously? How do they put those IN CHILDREN?)(How, with the numerous advances in dentistry, have they not come up with a better x-ray solution??)(GAG)
It likely also means that I will have to see an oral surgeon to have this done…which means I will have to make another appointment and we all know how much I enjoy doing that. I actually have more anxiety about making the damn appointment than I do about actually having them removed.
(I KNOW I AM WEIRD, stop your judging.)
But I’m gonna ball up and do this thing. Because it would awesome to be able to yawn in 2011. Like, a dream come true. My husband will also appreciate it, I know. AHEM.