It has been at least six months since I have been in that office, yet when I walked into my oral surgeon's building yesterday, the staff yelled, "Julia!". Kind of like when Norm walks into Cheers.
Yeah. Like that.
I smiled and returned their greeting, yet silently I was wondering, What the heck? How come they remember me? They must have seen a zillion people since I was here last.
I have had only one procedure here. Ever. And it was simply to evaluate and extract an abscessed tooth. I thought back to that appointment and realized that my recollection of that event was.....not exactly......complete.
Oh, no. Ah, geez........../facepalm/
Yeah. It occurred to me that the reason I don't remember much is because I was hopped up on pain pills. And whenever I take any kind of opioid or narcotic, I become very very HAPPY. And CHATTY. And LOUD. I supposed that the reason the staff remembered me was not because I demonstrated a sparkling wit or intelligent conversation; but rather was doofus beyond reason.
I would have remembered that kind of patient back when I was a nurse, so I completely understood.
So I smiled and returned everyone's greetings, noting that I was met with expectant expressions. As if the staff was waiting to see what I would do during this appointment. Because they were hoping it would be as entertaining as the last time I visited.
Having realized what must have transpired before, I attempted to keep my conversation sedate and pleasant -- but not doofus. Which was difficult. But I think I succeeded. Which was very important since the reason for this go-around was to be evaluated for a very expensive dental implant and I wanted to have a completely serious discussion about the criteria for needing one, the risks and recovery after having the procedure, various types of sedation during the placement of the implant (I will receive nitrous oxide and local anesthetic), and the cost of the treatment. I was pleased that our conversation met all of my goals for the day and I left feeling proud of my adult-like behavior. The staff said good-bye with pleasant professionalism.
I think they were disappointed.
Ah, but just wait, people. When I show up for my next appointment and as the nitrous oxide begins to flow, y'all can expect HAPPY. And CHATTY. And LOUD. Because nitrous evokes the same response in me that pain pills do. The last time I had N2O must have been....um...interesting for my dentist:
.......Nitrous oxide, however, makes all things tolerable in the dentist's chair. Not only tolerable, but even mildly amusing. I was trying to hum "Yellow Submarine" around at least a pound of gauze and another two pounds of hardware. I love nitrous. The dentist was called away mid-procedure, so I was left alone for a few minutes blissfully babbling and inhaling deeply.
In my warm fuzzy little drug induced cloud, two large red objects swam in and out of view, capturing my attention. Well, good golly. They were shoes. MY shoes. I had never noticed before how attractive they were, even if they were a dainty size eleven. (I am not kidding - size eleven. I have some serious real estate attached to the end of my legs).
Dang, I thought. I have great taste in shoes.
When Dr. E. returned, I was engrossed in examining every detail of those shoes. Red canvas. White stitching. Elastic curly laces. Who knew they were so interesting??
As Dr. E. returned to my chair, I shoved one foot near his face and declared, "Would you just LOOK at these shoes? These are great shoes. Wonderful shoes. They're my very luckiest shoes!"
Well, that's what I said. Actually, what came out of my mouth around all the equipment probably sounded like "wffwwuuuulOOOOOOkshOOOz!!!"
Dr. E. deftly reached past the floating size elevens and turned down the nitrous. Rats.So. Oral surgeon staff? Be patient. When I show up for my procedure, there's a high probability of the return of Julia doofus-ness.