Tuesday, June 24, 2008

Is it wise?

In my quest to visit every medical professional I can think of this summer, I've finally decided to get my last two wisdom teeth out. I only have two left because the first two over 15 years ago didn't go well.

Anyway, after waiting 1 full hour for a consultation with the oral surgeon--if I didn't want to be completely euthanized I could have skipped this formality but I want to wake up 3 days later under a cloud of Percoset and ask if it was a boy or a girl--I finally get in to meet the doctor.

Very nice, and I am immediately sheepish about being so bitchy about waiting (if only in my indignant mind) because he is so apologetic and starts telling me of all the good drugs he is going to give me before, during and after the procedure. I ask if we could just do it now?

But I tell him that while I appreciate his impassioned speech on the risks and benefits of general anesthesia, I am already dentalphobic and will be signing up for the coma option, thanks. I am scheduled for July 8.

"July 8? Is that a Tuesday? You may want to reschedule because I leave for vacation on that Thursday."

"Um, isn't that after the 8th?"

"Yes, but I would hate to leave town just two days after. It's not that your case is particularly complicated, it's just that at your age, it's going to take you longer to recover."

At my age? What the hell?

I was just about to launch into my 4 c-sections, heart trauma and misc. other surgeries in which I am chasing toddlers and dogs 15 minutes post-op when he gives me a Valium to take on the morning of the 8th before I even get there.

I smile with 2 teeth more than I will after the 8th.

3 comments:

Mama Ginger Tree said...

Are you sure you can wait until the 8th to take the Valium? I'm not sure I could.

JUST KIDDING!

No really.

Jennifer, Snapshot said...

Yeah, the whole "at your age" thing is very very sad.

I had to have knee surgery 5 years ago. When the orthopedic surgeon was showing me my x-ray, he said, "Your bones are nice and white. Sometimes at your age I am already seeing calcification."

Talk about a backhanded compliment. I was 32--certainly too young to get the "at your age."

I might forgive him, because after the surgery, he was amazed at my healing prowess, and said I was "healing like a teenager."

C.G. Barrett said...

If you had studied a little harder, Tracey, you might have gotten a better grade on those four C-sections.

-Your loving mother.