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6/19/2005: Teeth out, dates bought, sleep lost (5:38 AM)

It has finally come to pass: the wisdom teeth have departed my mouth. After the aforementioned jerkaround I had with the office of Dr. Kenneth Byrne, DDS, finally hour came (and past for an extra 15 minutes) and before I knew it, I was in a chair for what was to be a 90 minute experience of humor, loss, drama, Freud, pain, narcotics, and stitches.

The dental assistant Christina was a big girl but had really beautiful eyes, appearing somewhat Hispanic. She went down the pre-of checklist, then pushed me back in the chair, after she talked me into using nitrous oxide (something I had never tried before, so I thought I would take the opportunity to have the experience). The doctor himself (technically, I guess, he is a dentist, but he limits his practice to just extractions and implants). As I whiffed down the nitrous, I strained to notice any effect it was having. Mind you, in environments like that, and given the load of crap that was being hoisted upon me, including a plethora of plastic wrapped tubes, towels that covered my eyes, and gauze that lined my mouth during part of the procedure, I feel pretty ridiculous already. I can't say if the NOX had any overt effect. I was aware of the internal sounds of each tooth being torn away from my jaw, from the breezy and sad collapse of the first non-impacted upper wisdom tooth, to the whizzing of the drill, the tap of the cow bone matrix being packed into to areas of my upper jaw, and the force of the pull on my impacted ones that pulled my whole skull in the same direction as the doctor's arm. During most of the procedure I could feel Christina pressing against the opposite side of me, and throughout the procedure I was wondering I could touch her breasts on the sly, and listen for her reaction. Alas, either I was falling asleep before thinking it through, or being deprived the vision of her reaction, it did not come to pass. I did hear the doctor bitch out one of his assistants about leaving other patients waiting out in the front, sounding like a typical dick boss. I guess every similar professional situation like that, such as doctor and nurses, or lawyers and paralegals, tend to yield up God complexes in the superior.

Anyway, God DDS did write me up 4 prescriptions as I snorted down pure O2, to counter the NOX. I got an antibiotic, an antiinflamatory, 8oo mg strength ibuprofen, and some hillbilly heroin (oxycondone, generic Percocet). The doctor also dosed my jaw with an extra shot of Novocane to stay off any pain before I could get the meds and get home. So with some bloody gauze in my mouth, I left the treatment room to leave, stopping off to write a $1003.00 check for the experience. In my immediate aftershock of the morning I stopped off in Best Buy to pick up a copy of Danger: Diabolik, just out on DVD.

I came home and rested, then played a bit on the X-Box while waiting for my tongue to stop swelling. Napped it out for a bit, only taking the ibuprofen. I then got up, and noticed I wasn't in major pain. I decided then I would attend the first charity fundraiser held by DC Kickball. The fundraiser was a bachelor and bachelorette silent auction, held at McFadden's in Foggy Bottom. I met up with C-Towner there, who was busy getting drunk while I stayed stone cold sober, leaving open the possibility that I was going to be needing to pop one of those Rush Limbaugh beauties that I packed into a messenger bag I was wearing throughout the eve. Over the course of the 5 hours I was there, I ended up bidding on, and winning, not one but two of the 14 bachelorettes. I'll get some pics up later today to show you who will be spending time with me for payment to the DC Latin American Youth Center.

Anyway, I've been up all night, so I will cut this off right here, and I talk to you soon. BTW, this is the first post from the new laptop!!!!