Wednesday, July 23, 2014

major dental work (a letter about boy wonder's trip to the dentist tomorrow)

(no, this is not a REAL letter to my darling baby boy. i honestly did tell him he'd be fine because he will. this is more a letter to my younger self. like the me who had two root canals at 31. she could have used this advice.)

dear boy wonder,

i know you're nervous about getting a couple teeth pulled tomorrow, but whatever you do, don't worry.

you're going to be just fine! 

how do i know?

well, i don't, but that's just what you tell people before they go to the dentist.

you'll be fine!

truth be told, i always found that the people who say "you'll be fine" when you mention the need to have major dental work never had major dental work...because people who have had major dental work tend to make the sign of the cross and dart across the street in case your impacted wisdom teeth are contagious.

(in your case, you have a couple bullied baby molars that can't get past the mean, grown-up adult molars, so really, YOU'LL BE FINE!)

i promise.

i do have a couple tips for you, though.


1. don't sing along to the music in your ipod.

it complicates things. a lot. i know the laughing gas they give you grants instant madonna-like singing abilities, but this isn't madison square garden and you don't have giant, cone boobies. you're just making it worse by singing the chorus of "vogue" while the dentist is untangling that molar root from your jawbone.

2. try not to swallow. at all. ever.

whatever you do, don't accidentally try to swallow the little spit-sucking vacuum. it all goes to hell if you do and they might never get your cheek out of the hose.

 i'm kidding. but seriously, try not to swallow the vacuum.

3. if you're dentist is a chatty, you have my permission to ignore him. 

that never made sense to me. how am i supposed to answer how my summer's going if there's half a yard of rubber sheeting bound to my gums with a thin hair elastic?

on top of that, you've just instructed me to be perfectly still for the next 90 minutes and in the next breath you're asking me if i'd read the latest shades of grey spinoff. NO!

and finally,

4. when it's over, smile. (but not too soon after surgery.) 

the bloody cottonwads might fall out and that's just gross.

i'm kidding, but i'm sort of not.

nobody likes to see big, gaping bloody pits of ooze and sometimes if you try to smile or talk too soon after major dental work, you spray bits of gum and blood everywhere and it's hard to concentrate and stay supportive when i really want to puke. so keep your gummy bits in your mouth and you'll have all the jell-o you can handle in no time at all.

if you find that you're being really, super funny, make sure your dad busts out the ol' camera phone and puts that on the youtubes. those videos of kids talking like space aliens on mushrooms are the best ever. right up there with the skateboarders who smash their nads on staircase railings.

remember what i said earlier? you'll be fine!

be brave and don't swallow the vacuum hose.

love you always,

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