When, after a hushed conference, the dentist’s receptionist gave me an aspirin out of her own purse and offered to drive me home, I knew things were bad.
I’ll be in better hands today. Husband will escort me to the oral surgeon’s office and care for me tenderly thereafter (she said, with no implied threat in her voice).
Back then, I was on my own. I was 23 years old and didn’t know a soul in Colorado save the boyfriend who left me sitting in that office for an hour and a half. The bank I worked for was too cheap to cover insurance for an oral surgeon, so I’d just had four impacted wisdom teeth pulled by a general dentist under local anesthesia.
There were no cell phones in those far reaches of remembered time. Boyfriend was to have picked me up at an appointed hour.
Instead, he left me sitting there.
I’ve always been a brave dental patient – and a damned good thing that is, given all the wretched hours I’ve spent staring up at Pelton & Crane lamps (my current dentist uses the brand I remember from childhood). After bravery, though, one craves comfort.
Time passed. Swelling ballooned my face, Novocain wore off, and abject misery set in. Still he did not come. The dentist couldn’t legally give me any pain medication; Boyfriend was to have had my prescription ready and waiting for me after the procedure.
More time passed. Quiet tears slid down my cheeks as I sat there despairing. I contemplated walking the several miles home. It was February. I was dressed for tooth-pulling, not winter hiking.
When Boyfriend finally came boldly sauntering in, he pointed at me and laughed. Loudly. Always the life of the party, that one.
I left that office humming The Party’s Over.
Husband is a good person. You needn’t worry.
BTW, my wife is a good person, too. I’m well taken care of after today’s surgery.
Hope you’re OK! I’m now wrapped up in a blankie enjoying indolence and good drugs. Sounds like you won’t be at Chorale rehearsal tonight, either?
Yup, I wasn’t there. Wendy made me foods I could drink (but not with a straw!) and followed/helped me everywhere I went. Mostly, I sat in a recliner wrapped in a blanket, napped, did computer stuff (some even for work), and watched old MASH. I haven’t had to take the good drugs yet. I hope Chorale managed without us.
Oh, so sorry to hear it. Why doesn’t the Tooth Fairy come to adults after dental surgery? That’s when she’s really needed–especially with her cash gift!
It’d be great if the Tooth Fairy would leave money for two dental implants under my pillow tonight :-) And perspective is everything — I’d rather be able to eat a nice steak than wear diamonds (good thing, since I certainly can’t do both).
This is the saddest story ever! I hope you’re warm and comfy and cherished today.
I should have stressed EX-boyfriend :-)