The Extraction.

Before.

I was raised feeling terrified at the idea of having a tooth pulled out of my face. Today I will live out said nightmare. Ever been there? I’m not worried about a lot of pain; I’ve endured enough with this stupid tooth for weeks now. The thought is upsetting to me, the dentist rocking this tooth I’ve had for some 43 odd years back and forth ’til it gives way. And will my spit give the dentist my probable covid? Who knows. Kind of the least of my concerns, no offense doc.

T minus 35 minutes. I just had what Jesus and his disciples termed “the last supper” ‘cept it was breakfast and a big one at that. I’ve heard conflicting tales of no food allowed for days, liquids only through a straw and foods are okay right away, just nothing hard. I feel so much more at peace now, thanks.

I’ve also heard conflicting time frame stories. The dentist has me booked for an hour so I’ve mapped it out thoroughly. The pleasantries. The quick look-see. The freezing prep and delivery. The freezing takeover time. And the end wrap up. Leaves about 36 minutes max for the extraction. On that note, my mom has had a couple done and said one came out relatively quickly so that gives me hope. Considering the tooth is one third broken away anyway maybe this will be a 5 minute ordeal. Toes and eyes crossed.

After.

Okay, so that was no pride week picnic. That sucked bigga time. That mother wouldn’t loosen. I give props to the dentist for shaking that mofo loose ’cause it took some doin’. I’d take a filling any day over whatever that was. The words still haunt me. “Don’t let your head wiggle. Try to work against my pulling.” Truly chilling. I’m pretty sure every muscle in my body was at attention for those thirty or so minutes. One could say I’m still in shock.

The bleeding is steady and the freezing is almost all out now. I’m a cranky kristopher. Glad I can eat, a least a little bit. Just had leftover chicken fajitas minus the wraps and sour cream followed by some homeade tapioca. Went down well enough but my appetite is no where near normal and that’s a blessing in full-on transgender attire. I’m always looking for a quality diet gimmick and I must say the old tooth pull is right up there with keto and anorexia.

The bigger the boy, the bigger the baby I’m always told and that does hold water. I want to be taken care of, not take care of others. I’m talking fed, bathed, cuddled ‘n coddled. Okay, I’ll at least take texted to and well wished. No? Typical. Personal pain healing with or without alcohol. The rubbing kind at least.

I guess I should look on the bright side. When I get through this current aggravated pain there will be no more pain making me wince and shudder with hot and cold. I’ll even get to enjoy a few weeks of tonguing my squishy tooth hole all day, every day until the novelty wears off. And maybe, just maybe, I can garner a little sympathy from those in my life. No? Doubtful. Once again the big boy is on his own. But thanks for listening.


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