Pucker Up...

It's Valentine's Day. I personally can think of about one gazillion places I'd rather be on this day than the dentist. But that's where I was this afternoon, getting some dental work done.

Not that I have dental-phobia, but I haven't gotten any cavities filled since I was about 10 years old. Thankfully, I've got really good teeth, and I've gotten my teeth cleaned a lot, so it hasn't been an issue. But it finally it came time to go in and be a responsible dental patient. But because of the 20+ year gap in cavity-filling experience, I don't have any real clear memories of the procedure. Somehow I failed to remember that they would numb the whole right side of my face in preparation for the job. I failed to think how this could negatively impact my Valentine's Day.

First of all, at the dentist, why do they make you wait so long before coming in to get started? It's prolonging the inevitable, right? To be honest, getting the shot in my gums really wasn't too bad, actually. I wished they would have used that numbing stuff on the other most recent shot I've gotten-- because this one in my mouth, I hardly felt anything. I can't be sure, because I had no loving husband at the ready with his camera, but I think my face was a whole lot more serene for this one. After this shot, they left me alone with my thoughts and my rapidly numbing face for about 10 minutes to let that numbing stuff sink in, and by the time the dentist came back, I had almost swallowed my tongue about three times and couldn't feel the entire right half of my face. I'm pretty sure I bit my cheek several times also, though I can't be exactly sure because I couldn't feel it at the time. It's only now that I've got feeling back, that I notice what suspiciously feels like bite marks where my cheek had been numb, so, hmmm.

Maybe the facial-nerve-deadened patient is a source of entertainment for dentists, because, he's the expert, right? He knows my face is numb and I'm drooling out the right side of my mouth... so WHY does he keep asking me questions? They're not rhetorical ones. At this point, as numb as my face is, and as wide open as my mouth is, my vocabularly has been reduced to, "ungh-huh" and "sllllllrrrkkkk" (the sound of me trying to keep the saliva inside my mouth). To make matters worse, he turns on that awful dental drill, drilling away at my tooth and his lovely assistant is holding my tongue back and putting all kinds of other things in my mouth, so half the time, I can't even get those two caveman-ish, gutteral phrases out. He should know I'm not up for a deep conversation about Atari games, right? So I'm not sure why he keeps asking.

Well, after our very one-sided dialogue on Atari, and after my cavities were filled, he sent me on my merry way. And it was merry, albeit slightly frightening, I'm sure, for everyone who saw me and tried to have a conversation with me, because, I still had no feeling in my face for quite some time afterwards. I made a thick-tongued apology to the receptionist because I was trying to talk to her about future appointments and just felt like I was drooling out of the right corner of my mouth. Also, with every word I spoke, or tried to speak, slurring all the way, I felt like I was spitting everywhere. It just wasn't very pretty. I know she was trying to keep a straight face, but she failed. I also, was trying to keep a straight face, but only half of my face succeeded. Really, I didn't care what kind of face I was making, I just wished both sides would agree on what that was. I looked in the mirror and couldn't decide if I was happy or sad... look at my left side, you'd think happy, look at the right side, droopy as it was, you'd think sad. It was like I was one of those comedy/tragedy theatrical masks, but both at the same time.



You could never pull that kind of face on purpose, so I thought maybe I should feel special, but instead I was sort of dismayed. I tried to smile with both sides of my face, but that right side just didn't want to be quite as happy as the left side. So then I tried to do a super frown, but even the frowny side wouldn't budge much lower than it was, so that was no good. So I couldn't decide if I was a comedy or a tragedy.

The real tiebreaker for comedy tragedy occured later on. Because when I came home and sought out Chad to give him a kiss, not only because it is Valentine's Day, but because it is what we always do upon our arrival home, I couldn't pucker my lips! Well, actually, more accurately, I could pucker my lips, but only half the top and bottom of each, on the side that actually had feeling in it. This unexpected and quite unfortunate-looking half-pucker kinda freaked Chad out. To be honest, it kinda freaked me out too. And then we started laughing. He, with his whole face, me, with only the left side of mine. This was further comical. It was funny, but funny sad: on the day meant for love and kisses, when everyone tries to look their best and feel young and lovely, this droopy, numb, unable-to-pucker face of mine really wasn't helping me out. It wasn't pretty. Actually, it was pretty freaky. It was a comedy tragedy in the truest sense. I felt like pulling one of these classic faces (not too much different than what currently comes naturally with a numb face) and asking Chad to Be Mine in my best come hither voice. He'd be hard pressed to say no, don't you think?



Droopy and numb like this makes me feel... irresistible? Not so much.

I guess the good thing was that at least by then I could say more than, "ungh huh" and "sllllrrrrrrrkkk". And at least we both have good senses of humor. Even if only the left half of my face can show it.

Moral of the Story: Don't go to the dentist on Valentine's Day.