Sunday, January 12, 2014

Twas Like A Dream

The last few days have been dreamlike and today too.
The procedure itself was, of course, painless. I went in and out of awareness. I remember hearing them say, "You're doing great." "Your blood pressure is great." "Almost done."
Meanwhile I was thinking things like, "I'm not doing a damn thing." And, "Of course my blood pressure is great. I'm almost unconscious here." And finally, "Thank God."
I remember seeing the dentist's hand shaking with effort. It didn't bother me, but I remember it.

Dental office spa treatments are not the best spa treatments you will ever get.
Offering someone a milkshake when they have just undergone two hours of oral surgery is ridiculous. Seriously. A milkshake?
We didn't even get to the moist towelette part. Thank-you. No.

Here's the funniest thing and the thing I keep turning over in my mind- they put an eye mask on me. Which is fine but I swear to you, I could see right through it. At one point, it had slipped up and one of the assistants pulled it back down and I thought, "Well, that's useless. I can still see everything."
Again, seeing everything (or at least being convinced I could see everything) didn't bother me. The Unibomber could have come in and threatened to blow the whole place up and it wouldn't have disturbed my peace of mind, my oneness with the Universe.

The drugs they gave me did not even begin to wear off until the next morning. All I could do was laugh at myself as I pinged from one wall to another like a pinball. It was hysterical. And I did not hurt myself and mostly stayed in bed going in and out of the most enjoyable sleep of my life. There is a certain sweetness to not having one damn thing in the world to worry about except pain control, which was no problem, and remembering to take my antibiotic. Mr. Moon made me the best dinner I have ever eaten and I'm not kidding you. He cooked me a chicken pot pie and I ate every bit of it, chewing slowly and carefully on my good side for what seemed like hours and then he made me a float of lime sherbet and grape juice and ginger ale.
I could happily have died, completely satisfied and still so very, very stoned.

But I didn't die. I went to bed and slept that sweet sleep again.

The boys got here at six a.m. yesterday morning and Mr. Moon took such good care of them. At one point, around nine or so, Owen came into my bedroom and said, "Mer. I want a carrot."
Boppy and Gibson were asleep in Mr. Moon's chair and so I got up and got Owen a carrot and went back to bed. Later on I got up and played a few games of cards with Owen and Boppy and I made the absolute worst dinner I've ever made in my entire life and I'm ashamed to tell you what it was and so I will not although when I told Lily and Jason about it, Lily laughed and Jason said, "That sounds awesome!"
I am hoping the healthy pancakes I made them for breakfast made up for the sins of the night before. At least a little.

And so it goes. It rained all day yesterday but the sun has been shining all day today. I've spent another chunk of time in bed, sleeping again and by now I'm starting to feel guilty. Which is stupid. Still- there you are. I am reading a book that I got at the library and quite frankly, I think it is marvelous. Could be all the drugs but I don't think so.

Who knows? The ending may disappoint but the meat of it is just chewy enough and I am glad to have it. I read for a bit and then lay it down and fall asleep and wake up and take it up again.

The boys have been gone for hours now. When Owen got up this morning, the first thing he said was, "Mommy and Daddy don't have to come too soon."
He still had things he wanted to do with his Boppy.
And Gibson? Well, as I told his parents, I'm fairly sure that he would happily take up residence in his grandfather's back pocket. Both boys are completely and utterly content here. But of course they were happy to see their mama and their daddy and went home cheerfully with them although right before they left, I found Owen sitting on the ground, his back to a pecan tree, and he was eating a candy cane his mother had brought him, just quietly and thoughtfully looking around, his legs crossed, and he reminded me of a skinny, four-year old Buddha, surveying his domain, content to be exactly where he was and not in a hurry to go anywhere else nor yet loathe to leave.

I guess that about sums it all up.
Me too.

For this moment in this time. Me too.


  1. So this is what perfect peace feels like, sounds like, looks like. God, I love this post. Banish that guilt and hold on to this feeling, this sweet sweet sleeping and waking and reading and floating as long as you can. For both of us.

    And i am very taken with your description of Owen as Buddha under the tree. Again, such a sense of peace.

  2. glad to hear you are on the mend- if it makes you feel better i cooked the worst meal ever of pork necks and beans. all of it went in the trash. the only person who liked it was thomas the cat who found some meat jelly and tried to drag it across the table....


  3. I was wondering about the milkshake. When my daughter had her wisdom teeth out she was not supposed to use a straw for a month.

    Did I just imagine it was you or did you have some happy/good news for us that your were waiting to share? If it wasn't you I have no idea who it was.

  4. Beautiful, beautiful.

    So, if I may ask - how did they bone graft?

  5. That last image of Buddha Owen sitting by the Bodhi tree is perfection.

  6. Lovely image of Owen under the tree with his candy cane. I hope he'll read it when he's a man.

  7. I'm glad you emerged from your procedure and were able to enjoy (is that the right word?) some down time as a result! I personally would have paid money for more reading time this weekend.

  8. Drug induced dental work is remarkable, isn't it?

  9. I'm glad to hear you are doing well. Buddha Owen's image will stay with me today, and I will try to be in the moment, and enjoy where I am.

  10. My grandkids grew up next door to me and so my house was just an extension of their house. I miss that. We've been out in the country for 4 years this spring but they are all teenagers now. still, they love to come here and spend lots of time and I still love having them.

  11. It's good to be an invalid every once in awhile. And druggy peace. Both are good sometimes.

    Like everyone, I love the image of the tiny Buddha. It reminds me that all children have this in them, if we just take the ipad away from them for a bit.

  12. Glad that things are still relaxing for you and that you are okay. Any kind of surgery is pretty much the pits IMO, but the drugs do help.

  13. Angella- I am so grateful for the respite from the anxiety that I swear the whole dental thing was almost worth it. Isn't that crazy?

    Mrs. A- Oh my. Well, at least your meal was made of genuine food. Which mine was not.

    Birdie- Oh, I doubt they would have given me a straw. Yep. No straws. Still sitting on that news. Yep. It was me.

    Mr. Downtown- I mean to say. He does remind me of Jody sometimes. Next thing you know, he'll be wanting a pet deer.

    NOLA- Fuck if I know. They use fake bone. Don't ask me. I think they just pack that shit in there.

    Elizabeth- Who know the Bodhi tree could be a pecan?

    A- He probably won't. But at least it's here, in case he wants to. Maybe.

    Steve Reed- I DID enjoy the down time. I seriously did. I'm not going to lie and say I didn't, either.

    Heartinhand- AMEN, Mama!

    Mel- Candy canes can help with that, I think.

    Ellen Abbott- I hope I'm still around when my grands are teens AND that they still want to hang out with me.

    Ms. Vesuvius- Yep. I strongly do believe that every child is born a Buddha, a Jesus. Every one of us.

    Syd- The drugs are awesome.


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