Because you are all on tenterhooks: I’ll relieve you. I’m not dead.
Let’s just say that I survived, and I was incredibly brave. I won’t tell you how I lay there thinking, with the infernal zzzzzzzzeeeeee of his multiple drills in the background: “ juuuust gooo to your happppy plaaace, ggggoooo tooo the hhhhappyy plaaace”, and then realizing I don’t have one…
I know I wasn’t speaking out loud, because I had scary things sucking my spittle out all the time, but somehow he must have heard me, or else felt my feeble trembling, because afterwards, the dentist eased me into his chair, and said, “you seemed very nervous. Next time we can give you nitrous oxide, or a complete sedative…”
HAPPY GAS! Thanks for telling me about that AFTER you’ve had your entire arms up to your elbows in my mouth, and you have left me drooling blood like an asylum inmate.
But enough about me. I did try to look for sympathy with the children, when I got home, only cooking meat and ONE veg, tonight, and saying, weakly, that I could only read Finding Nemo tonight, because *insert weak cough here* daddy had to have SIX injections in his mouth. They didn’t care. I have made the groundbreaking discovery that empathy is hard to come by in children.
A little piece of me did die in the dentist’s chair: the part that has to go back ina month, and then six months, but at least, at the end of it, Neen (wife, not anonymous) will be able to say that her husband has all his own teeth.
She’s still in the States- for another 8 weeks. We have the small thrill of seeing her at 23:00, in her pj’s, and here it is 6:00. That’s am, and we are also in our pj’s, all courtesy of a Skype tm video link. But (Yea!) I have travailed through the valley of the shadow of death at the dentist, so I can take a few weeks of cooking badly and signing homework diaries.
Note: He is a damned good dentist, I am a damned bad patient… And I DON’T suffer from halitosis, but apparently, that’s his speciality…
Let’s just say that I survived, and I was incredibly brave. I won’t tell you how I lay there thinking, with the infernal zzzzzzzzeeeeee of his multiple drills in the background: “ juuuust gooo to your happppy plaaace, ggggoooo tooo the hhhhappyy plaaace”, and then realizing I don’t have one…
I know I wasn’t speaking out loud, because I had scary things sucking my spittle out all the time, but somehow he must have heard me, or else felt my feeble trembling, because afterwards, the dentist eased me into his chair, and said, “you seemed very nervous. Next time we can give you nitrous oxide, or a complete sedative…”
HAPPY GAS! Thanks for telling me about that AFTER you’ve had your entire arms up to your elbows in my mouth, and you have left me drooling blood like an asylum inmate.
But enough about me. I did try to look for sympathy with the children, when I got home, only cooking meat and ONE veg, tonight, and saying, weakly, that I could only read Finding Nemo tonight, because *insert weak cough here* daddy had to have SIX injections in his mouth. They didn’t care. I have made the groundbreaking discovery that empathy is hard to come by in children.
A little piece of me did die in the dentist’s chair: the part that has to go back ina month, and then six months, but at least, at the end of it, Neen (wife, not anonymous) will be able to say that her husband has all his own teeth.
She’s still in the States- for another 8 weeks. We have the small thrill of seeing her at 23:00, in her pj’s, and here it is 6:00. That’s am, and we are also in our pj’s, all courtesy of a Skype tm video link. But (Yea!) I have travailed through the valley of the shadow of death at the dentist, so I can take a few weeks of cooking badly and signing homework diaries.
Note: He is a damned good dentist, I am a damned bad patient… And I DON’T suffer from halitosis, but apparently, that’s his speciality…
Posts
Alone with the kids for upwards of 8 weeks? How do you survive?
ReplyDeleteTen and a half weeks! not that I'm holding it against her- actually I am... I will score big points for this...
ReplyDeleteF-in-law is helping take the children to school, so I can't claim total independence. I may be cooking things like instant noodles, but I do add my own ingredients, like veg, soy sauce, amusing trimmings.
Ok, you got me.
I'm going INSANE!
ahem. I can HEAR you.
ReplyDeleteDid I say insane?
ReplyDeleteI meant, I'm having a lovely time...
I am cooking more than noodles, ok?
hahahahhahahaaaa
Besides, I wasn't sane to start off with, eh?
Hahahahaha.... so funny to watch the meltdown of a husband. WTG for being such a hero at the dentist. I too need to go back to mine... laffin gas you say? Hmmm. Interesting.
ReplyDeleteI'm so gonna be laughing through the next appointment, at least, until he shows me the account...
ReplyDeleteGo for the laughing gas and make sure you get a really good dose so when you see that account it suddenly won't matter anymore... You will be laughing too hard to care... Speaking of dentists the only thing that scares me more than the noise of the drill is the burning smell coming off it... Wait I shouldn't say that... You still have to return to see him again, don't you? Good luck with the house and kids while the wife is away, and good luck at the dentist's too...
ReplyDeleteThanks, SB. I've avoided dentists for years, which is why I'm having intense maintainance done. I'll take your advice, though...
ReplyDelete