Oral Surgery

So on Thursday I skipped school to go see my oral surgeon (yes, I know--I’m so badass. I do this whenever I get bored of school).It was a lengthy drive so I slept until 9:30 and then went to take a shower.

Face.

Jeans.

Shirt.

Socks.

Shoes.

Hat.

Car.

Me and my mum drove around a bit. She helped my dad out at our restaurant and then went to visit her friend--"Uncle Sam" (I call him this for various reasons). Uncle Sam bought me some coffee, which my mother was not very happy about. We got in the car and drove to the directions of my mum's GPS, Lucy.

Turn left on Salmon Drive.
*Turns left*

Turn right on Milford Street.
*Turns right*

Route recalculation.

Route Recalculation.

Recalculating.

Recalculating.

Route recalculation.

*face palm*

Eventually, we got there (Lucy always gets us there). When we got inside, we were greeted by an odd smell and a TV with one of the old Martha Coakley commercials where all she talks about is how much of a douche bag Scott Brown is. I went into the little office in the corner and was given a clipboard with a bunch of questions. I asked the lady there if she wanted me or my mum to sign it since I am not of legal age (obvious answer, but I was just wondering). All I had to do was to answer the questions.

Name.

Age.

Town.

Number.

Dentist's name.

Same old questionnaire.

Half of it, though, were questions pertaining to the illegal usage of drugs, but worded differently every time.


Do you use drugs for recreational purpose? How often?

Do you use drugs that are not prescribed to you? How often?

When was the last time you have used an "over the counter drug" when it was not needed?

Have you ever used tetrahydracannibinal, methylenedioxymethamphetamine, or diacetylmorphine?

Have you ever been treated for a drug addiction? Where?

Are you addicted to drugs?

Um, I’m sorry--can you repeat that?

When it was finally time to go in for my consultation, a nice, middle aged, auburn headed female took me by the hand to get an x-ray.

"Alright, take your sweatshirt off. When I’m done showing you how it works, you can take your glasses off as well." I had to stand up during the x-ray. It was quite high tech, and whilst having radiations go through my skull, I couldn't help but smile.

[I wonder what they do with the x-rays. Next time I’m going to ask if I could keep mine.]

After that, me, my mother, and my infant sibling were escorted to a little room with the basic dentist chair and PhDs on the wall. A bunch of degrees were from sometime during the industrial revolution.

The auburn headed lady gave me and my little sister a kiss, and gave me a cheek pinching (I liked her). She went on her way.

Soon enough, "Dr.Chen" (oral surgeon) entered the room. He didn't have much of an accent, but he mumbled a lot. And from what I could see, he wasn't around during the invention of the sewing machine.

After looking at my x-ray, he asked me a couple questions.

"Would you like general anesthesia, or an intravenous?" I already knew what I.V and anesthesia were but I asked him if he could explain it, just so I could have more time to think. After the fifth time of him explaining it to me, I finally decided on I.V. (I.V=knocked out. General anesthesia=awake, semi-aware, and no feeling except tugging and such)

I was a little shaky for some reason, but I didn't know why. They were just doing a root canal. I'm not bad with pain (not saying I want to be awake when this happens). Maybe it's because the word surgery was thrown around a couple times. Maybe because I chose the drug with more complications (I’m healthy).

I don't know. Just a little scared, that's all. Just don't tell my mother.

At that, we were given an appointment date and time and a disjointed goodbye from Dr.Chen.