Monday, July 24, 2006


Friday night after the previously mentioned class one of my upper molars began to disintegrate. The upside is that I can eat soft foods like ice cream and tapioca pudding. I had some seafood salad on Friday evening that had grated carrots in it. Now, I have a thing about carrots anyway, but grated carrots getting stuck in a cracked tooth, it didn't improve my opinion of carrots one bit.

Missing, but not forgotten
Missing, but not forgotten

Saturday, I had two poached eggs in milk over toast. Not bad except that the only toast I had was cinnamon toast. It made the eggs taste very weird, and the hot sauce probably didn't help it either. Dinner was crab chowder (no uncomfortable bits of carrot) and a milkshake. Ice cream for dessert.

Sunday I was back to the eggs, but I had them on cornbread. And that's all I ate over the weekend. No barbeques. No beer. No nothing. Happily, I didn't have much of an appetite. I called my dentist on Sunday. He didn't want an emergency patient, but did allow as much that I should see him at my earliest opportunity today.

I showed up in his office at 8:15 a.m. He pulled about a third of the tootth that had cracked off, but was still connected to the gum. He called his fave oral surgeon, but the guy was out of the office for the day. He called another, and set up an appointment for 2 p.m.

So 2 p.m. rolls around. New oral surgeon, new insurance forms to fill out. At 2:07, the nurse takes me back and takes my blood pressure. The doctor walks in at 2:15 to give me some anesthetic. He begins the procedure at 2:23. It lasts seventeen minutes, but a very long seventeen minutes. He apologizes for the pain, but his voice is affectless, like he says this to every patient, every day.

But the guy is really hot. I mean he has biceps and a chest. This guy works out! When he cradles my head in his arms so he can wrench my tooth, my head is in the living vise of a body builder. I'm thinking, if I'm going to have an awful experience, at least I'm having it with him! Sometimes, it really pays to be a homo.

I'm out of his office at 2:47 p.m. looking like a chipmunk for all of the packing he put in the hole in my jaw (this is turning out gayer than I expected...). At 3:17, I head for Baskin and Robbins for some ice cream. I've earned it.