Bright and early Monday morning I roll out of bed so that I can be at Dr. Gilbert's office at 7:45. I've never been there, nor do I have any idea who this man is, yet I'm about to put my mouth in his hands (or I guess you could say he was about to put his hands in my mouth). As I'm very tired and I had to skip breakfast for this appointment, I'm not the happiest camper on the block.
As we walk in the office, I realize that I'm either having a very undeseved sense of de-ja-vu, or one of my siblings has been here before, because I recognize the office. A man in scrubs says, "Good morning" and lays a clipboard full of papers on the front desk. No explanation. Just a clipboard. Am I supposed to fill these forms out?
As I'm realizing that the forms all seem to ask for the same information, the same man comes out to the lobby and hands me a cup full of pills and a glass of water. "What are these pills for?" I wonder, "and why do you have to stand over me while I swallow them?" I felt like I could hardly take a breath between each of the 4 pills, since I didn't want the man to wait for me forever. When he hands me yet another pill (and I realize why he was waiting for me to take the others), he tells me to let it dissolve underneath my tongue. Still, no explanation on what the pill is for. After tasting the nasty thing, I figure I at least deserved an explanation of what the nasty thing was for.
Soon, a lady peaked her head into the lobby and said, "Amanda?" Woah... let's stop right there. No thank you am I coming for surgery only to be mistaken for someone else. I am not getting somebody else's surgery done on me. After quickly correcting her, she asks me if I have had x-rays taken. Well, yes, as a matter of fact I have. Quite often, at that, too. About every 3 or 4 dentist appointments I get them, and just a few months ago I had one taken of my ankle. Obviously, I'm not dumb enough to answer that, but she could do with a little bit more explanation.
After she took me back to a room to get my mouth x-rayed, she asks, "Did you get the ____ form?" Seeing as how I don't know what half the forms were that I was filling out, I said, "Uh.. I don't know." She said, "Did you get some forms on a clipboard?" "Yes.... Yes I did." Of course, I had no idea what I was doing with any of the forms. All of the places for signatures said in parenthesis next to them, "Patient, Parent, or Guardian." Well, which do they want? Maybe some explanation would have been useful.
Great. So here I am back in the lobby again just waiting. I finally get called back to the room where I'll be blissfully oblivious to what is happening to me for the next 45 minutes. I soon find out that the aforementioned man is Dr. Gilbert himself. Who would've known? I also soon realize that we didn't get all the forms we needed, nor did we fill them out correctly. Dr. Glibert asked his nurse, "Did she get the consent to operate form?" The nurse: "She said she did." Dr. G.: "I don't see it here." Well, hello Miss Nurse! Who are you going to trust? The patient who has no idea what form is what or the doctor who obviously does not see the paper he needs? Honestly. Then, Mom has to cross out my name and sign her name in a few places because I'm only 17. Well, duh, I could have told you that I was not a legal adult, but maybe they should have explained that a legal adult needed to sign the papers, and not the "Patient" as the papers clearly specified could be an optional signature.
I vaguely remember sounds that happened during the operation, but since I had the IV in my hand that had knocked me out, I obviously couldn't do anything about it. The next thing I remember for sure was someone waking me up and telling me they were done. I was ushered to another room, presumably so they could get Mom to drive around to the side to pick me up. They had me sit on a hospital-type bed, and I remember being confused about whether I should sit or lay down.
Luckily, Mom quickly came to the rescue and I was soon in the car. Dr. Gilbert came out and stressed to Mom the importance of a few particular things I needed to do to keep the area clean, etc. He then asked if I had gotten a syringe. In my befuddled mind, a syringe was not the thing I wanted to hear. Thank goodness he explained it was just to squirt stuff in the holes in my mouth. Gross.
Finally, I was home, only to sleep for 20 minutes at a time. Every time the timer rang I had to take off or put an ice pack on my face. Thank goodness Mom took such great care of me and made sure I got all the medicine I needed.
Now as I look back on the receipt from the office, I see that in one spot they had written "Rachel" only to have it crossed out and put "Heidi." Then, in another spot, they had written "Hubourt, Zahier" only to have it crossed out and have "Blake, Heidi" replace it. What a strange office.
This is when I got home and had all the gauze still in my mouth. I felt like I was eating a cotton t-shirt. Bleh.
This is the wonderful ice pack that I had to keep putting on and taking off. Notice the TV remote in my hand; I have been quite bored.
This is a view of my not so swollen face. It has actually gotten worse since that first day, but I haven't taken any pictures of that. The swelling's not too bad, but I tell ya what... the pain is no walk in the park.
Mom refreshing her memory on how to use the pressure canner. You can see how hot she is after being in the garden all morning and then picking the peaches just before this picture.
I don't know what's up with the picture arrangement...
