The One Where I Get My Roots Done

When I got to the oral surgeon’s office, the first thing I did was ask one of the girls at the front desk (who turned out to be one of the surgical assistants) if I could get the laughing gas while they administered the shot. She just giggled and told me I didn’t need it. So the first thing I did when I got back to the room where it would all go down was ask the other surgical assistant for it. She just snickered, shook her head and told me they’d numb up the area before they gave me any shot. All I wanted was to have a little gas!

After 2 shots in my gums and one in the roof of my mouth, everyone left me to sit in the chair and drool.
I heard one of the assistants telling the other one that she couldn’t see. “What?!? You can’t see? How will you help to find my root tips?” I wanted to ask, but I couldn’t move my mouth. So I just sat there, looking dumbfounded and drooling while they traded their collard green recipes.

Then the surgeon came in, and they got started. I closed my eyes and didn’t open them again until it was all over. I did not want to see the tools approaching my face, but I think they must’ve looked more like this rather than the simple tools depicted in the research I found on the interweb. It didn’t hurt, but it was very disturbing. I made a repetitive humming noise the whole time because it helped me to stay calm. It scared the hell out of the assistant though. She said, “Does it hurt? What is that noise? Do y’all hear her making that noise?” I wanted to say, “I wouldn’t have to make this noise if you’d just given me the gas!!” But I try not to talk when I’m in these situations.

My stomach started growling, and of course I couldn’t help but think about my next meal. You’d think all of the pulling and banging going on in my mouth would cause me to lose my appetite, but it didn't.

The doctor finally finished, and I told the 3 of them that that was worse than having a c-section. He shoved some gauze in my mouth, gave me a few prescriptions, and then proceeded to tell me that I might need to get some implants. Mister, you need to just worry about my teeth.