This blog post is one of those personal journal-type deals. There’s some stuff coming down the pike and I feel like if I write something about it, there could be some therapeutic value in there somewhere. But who knows?
I’m staring down the barrel of a gun called “wisdom teeth removal.” A couple of weeks ago I went to an oral surgeon in Rapid City, who took an x-ray of my troublemaking wisdom teeth, looked things over, and said, “Well, they need to come out.” See….I KNEW THAT! I KNEW THEY HAD TO COME OUT! But sure, inconvenience a friend to cart me all the way to Rapid, spend no more than 14 minutes in the clinic, another three hours home, what the heck. (When I first visited my Alliance dentist about the more problematic of the two wisdom teeth they did an X-Ray of both of them on a machine that was IDENTICAL to the one in Rapid City. It’s just incredibly irritating.)
Anyway, I’m getting the things yanked in September. And dialysis, the gift that keeps on kicking me in the balls–making me miss radio station events, giving me a headache three days a week, y’know fun stuff like that? Well, the fact that I’m on dialysis, combined with some medications I take for various ailments, means that I can’t get the gas. Oh, I could! But I’d have to do the wisdom teeth removal in a hospital. Which I have to to assume would cost more, and I have to assume would take longer to schedule.
See, there’s this weird dichotomy (Know Your Word Power!®) in my brain. I am terrified of this surgery. Yet I want this surgery to be tomorrow. Or later tonight. Or right this second. This is going to be awful. I’m going to have novocaine, so no pain. But I’ll be completely awake and mentally alert to see and hear, from what I’ve gathered in various discussions, is the worst possible thing a human being endures. Worse than being shot in the eye. Worse than being kicked in the family jewels. Worse than getting tied to four horses and having them all run in seperate directions. It’s wisdom teeth removal, childbirth, the four horses thing, being set on fire, and everything else is a walk in the park.
I’m exaggerating. Ever so slightly.
So yes. In about two weeks, that’s happening. And I find myself intoning some kind of pep talk, from my brain to my teeth…or maybe vice versa.
“Hey! You damn near died 8 months ago! Remember when you were in the hospital? And nothing tasted good? And you had to poop in a thing that isn’t where able-bodied people poop? And remember how all you wanted was a drink of water AND THEY WOULDN’T GIVE YOU ONE?! Listen here champ, when that oral surgeon has done his business, you’ll be able to drink all the water you want! And poop in a toilet! And things will taste good, except they will all be pudding and popsicles for about a week.”
Now this article mentions “The Agony and the Ecstasy.” So the wisdom tooth business is, big shocker, the agony. But the ecstasy: my pal Dangerous Dave and I are going to see Earth, Wind and Fire with special guest Lionel Richie this Tuesday night at the Ball Arena in Denver! Super excited about that. And we should have time to pop into Mile High Comics. Also very exciting. And we’re staying at the Brown Palace. Exciting!
In my heart of hearts, I’d really have preferred the oral surgery to come before the concert. I’m probably the only person who keens for things to be compartmentalized in this way, but boy I sure do. However I’m getting better about it in my old age, and I am certain I will have an awesome time in Denver even with the grim spectre of wisdom teeth surgery swinging over my head like a rusty guillotine.
Oh, one more thing. This Wednesday I’m going to Cheyenne, WY to get vein mapping done. This is in preparation to get a fistula (5-time winner of the “Grossest Name For Something” Peoples Choice Award). A fistula will allow my dialysis nurses to do dialysis treatments via my arm. Right now they have to access a thingy-ma-bob attached to my chest which goes all the way to my heart. So not super safe. Also, I can’t get it wet. So once the fistula is installed and working, and the chest thing is removed, I will be able to take my first shower in over eight months. (Thank you all for not making derogatory remarks vis a vis my odor.)