Don't be alarmed, that's not a picture of the new cast member for an upcoming horror movie. That's me last Friday afternoon after two torturous hours of having my top back teeth pulled.
Being initially terrified of the dentist, I have to say that the staff being super-friendly is probably one of the very few reasons I keep going back. Otherwise, I'd almost just give up and go on looking like something straight out of the woods.
The visit wasn't pleasant at all. Even with nitrous, I was as tense as a cat in water. The dentist yelled at me once, reminding me that breathing was a necessity. He didn't like that I quit breathing for over 30 seconds. There was a time when I could even feel him pulling out one of my teeth. Once he understood that my panicking wasn't due to stressing out and was due to the fact that I could actually feel the excrutiating pain, he numbed me up some more.
Eight shots, four teeth, and two hours later I left the dentist office feeling like I had been put through the grindstone. As soon as I got in the vehicle, I started bawling like a newborn baby and crying out for my mother. I needed reassurance and comfort. She was at her own doctor's appointment so I went home and waited for sleep to take over. It took a few hours and lots of crying, but I finally got some rest.
The pain pills I initially took made me so ill I felt like I was dying and I spewed forth any contents left in my stomach. The ones I'm taking now seem to have no effect on dulling the pain.
Days later I'm still miserable. I can't eat anything that doesn't resemble baby food and my speech is impaired. It willl be a month before I go back to get the front teeth pulled and the immediate dentures put in. The tissue from my sore gums has to heal first.
That's okay, because someday, I will go from beast to beauty.