Blue Skies

I can breathe out now. I’m seeing blue skies. There’s Ella’s version or Willie’s—take yur pick.

Yesterday’s dentist appointment went MUCH better than anticipated. I got to see not one but THREE tooth guys! One of whom was the surgeon who will, someday, remove my two fucked up back teeth.

Yeah, I need surgery and have a second zoobie that’s about to snap off. Luckily it’s in the very same neighborhood as the already shattered one.

Surgeon guy will call my hematologist to discuss when it might be safe to dive in. Ya know, they
 want to avoid me going all Blood Feast on them. Me too!
Meantime, there’s no infection back there AND, should some nasty-ass one dare to show its face, they’ll prescribe antibiotics for me. Phew!

So then, while I need surgery, it won’t be all major-like. In fact, when I asked do I need to be here, present, for this:

• the dental doc got the reference or, at least, the humor
• dd said that if I wanted to be outta commission for the procedure, I have to go to a hospital. NO thank you! Before he goes in, we can discuss what sort of feel-no-pain meds I’ll be on and whether I can take pre-op chill-out anxiety killers. Fingers crossed.
  

I feel SO much better, despite the second zoobie issue. Why? I know more and now have options, baby, options. Plus, I like all the docs AND the surgeon. I don’t need to have this done right away—breathing room before more surgical action.

Here’s my only thing—the dentist’s office is in Braintree (yes, that’s honestly the name of the town). It’s just one hamlet south of us (but NOT on the water) and seems to be composed of nothing more than strip malls, one enormous, mondo mall and big box stores. //shudder// Was it always like this? Jen, having grown up 20 miles from Strip Mall City, says no. Can’t prove it by me, mes amis.

And, lastly, I have this song stuck in my head primarily because of this lyric snippet:

I've seen blue skies, through the tears
In my eyes