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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required Common American Phrase: Suck it up, Buttercup I shudder and shake with epinephrine as the needle stings inside my cheek, like a bee stings. I’m not a child, I’m a buttercup. The shaking rattles me but I relax until the next invasive… I see a bright light, though very much alive. Wearing glasses to protect my eyes. I close them so I can pray, and try not to pay too much attention to the two surgeons over me. A tooth distraction…a true extraction. The enemy must go, but the battle is strong as are my bones. Good news that grips the root. What’s going on, I can only hear the drill and my droughty lips feel like they are going to split. This is about an hour's procedure, it seems an eternity. The beginning was cold. I’m a retiree who hardly goes out, anymore, in the early morning. Georgia in March was a balmy twenty nine degrees fahrenheit. Hardly an inspiration to get up to have an operation. “Let’s not,” head says but wisdom knows, I must. I bundled up then stripped down as the car warmed up. After going through the ringer, I climb back in my car, and drive another twenty minutes and wait for prescriptions, hoping the pain won’t pop. Then one more stop for another that is cheaper in Publix…the needed antibiotic, Amoxicillin. Sometimes, you feel like you're in a nightmare where you can’t get back home. Patience is called for with a patient. The last couple of miles, I feel as though I’m on a bicycle. Even home, I have to unpack the meds, read the instructions then relax for a couple days, and realise I’m still on that hike…more waiting to eat and drink normal things. Complaining…perhaps…or merely composing a poetic epitaph. After all, when I was laid back in the dentist’s chair, my jaw being held by the dental assistant, feeling I was inches from being choked to death, I was already writing this in my head, but not at all in the mood to pedal my fingers on the keyboard until these many days later, having been laid out in my wake for those many pain killer days. Don’t think me morbid, perhaps a bit Poe or prosaic. I feel swell…well swelling is down. It’s all downhill from here…that is a good thing. I may even pop a wheelie. 3/17/2023
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