Yesterday I had to have a root canal. But wait, that’s not even the funny part. So, I take a Tylenol 3 on my way to the dentist’s office, as recommended, and before things get really fuzzy, I am in the chair. I close my eyes so I don’t see the gigantic needle heading towards my face, and before I know it, I’m drooling onto my little bib, and the entire right side of my face has turned to stone.
‘How are we feeling?’ asks my dentist. ‘We’re not,’ we answer, and I guess that’s what he was looking for, because I am tipped into a laying position, a weird little dental dam goes over my tooth and I do my best to zone out.
The root canal lasts about 45 minutes, and I must be a really sick bastard, because it was kind of relaxing. I mean, it wasn’t exactly pleasant, but hey, I just got to lie back, close my eyes and care for exactly zero whiny children or coworkers for the duration. A mother takes her breaks where she can get ‘em, right?
After being liberated from the drill (I asked if I should lie there and recover for a few more minutes, but they didn’t think I needed to. Damn.), I made my way downstairs, out of the building, and smack dab into the middle of a G20 protest. Except that in my root-canalled haze, I could not for the life of me think of the word ‘protest.’ What is this, I thought? A riot? No, not a riot… an… um… a riot? No, not a riot… an… um… a riot?
And so my thought process went as masked crusaders - fists and placards held high - moved past me, flanked on both sides by police. I just stood there watching, trying to figure out what the hell the word was for what I was observing.
Eventually, I was magically carried across the street, I think by fairies because I don’t remember my own feet moving, and before I knew it, I was standing inside Winners. Oh, this is nice. I like the air-conditioning, I said, either out loud or in my head, I’m not sure. Soon, I was standing in front of a full-length mirror, staring at my face, expecting to maybe see visible signs of the perverse feeling of being frozen. I saw them all right. The whole right side of my face was drooping, and my right eye would not blink. It kind of half-blinked, but would not blink all the way. I cannot tell you how long it took me to figure this out.
When I went to reach for a sweater that somebody else was already holding (fine, wearing), I knew it was time to leave, so I headed for the subway. I looked in my purse and realized that the purse I was holding was not mine. It was just my style, but I had never seen it before. Where did this purse come from? I looked inside. Oh shit! There was a shirt inside! Yikes, I thought, I stole this purse but first I put a shirt in it and I stole the shirt too! Man, I stole a nice purse! I looked inside again, and there was a receipt. Apparently, I hadn’t stolen this apparel at all, I had paid for it, and I got a pretty good deal, I think. I just couldn’t remember doing it.
I got to the subway without incident, and headed home. I felt like I had been on the train for a while already, so I looked up as we pulled into the next station. What the… where the eff was I? Dufferin? What was I doing at Dufferin, which was about 18 stops away from where I wanted to be, in the total opposite end of the city? I got off and casually made my way up the stairs then back down to the opposite platform to wait for a subway that would run in a direction towards, and not away from, my house. I still could not understand how almost 10 stops had gone by without my realizing that I was headed the wrong way. Huh.
Two hours after I had left the dentist’s office, I was home. Chris and the girls greeted me halfway down the street. The girls came running towards me, and I swear I had never seen anything more beautiful in my life. It was like they had butterflies circling their heads or something. I enveloped them in hugs and Chris caught up with us. Where were you?! He asked? Oh, shit. Right. I was supposed to call him when I left the dentist. I told him what I had been up to. He told me that he had even called the dentist’s office looking for me, and was totally worried that I had passed out on the sidewalk somewhere. I guess it was fair of him to worry about that. Once home, I dropped my new bag, and let my frozen face hit the pillow on the couch. I think. I may have missed the pillow, but it doesn’t matter, since I couldn’t feel anything anyway.
By 8:30 or so I could finally drink a glass of water without it dribbling down my chin, so I scarfed down a quick, gentle meal in the time between when the freezing had worn off and the drugs hadn’t. I scanned my not-stolen goodies once more, and congratulated myself on my sweet purchases. The bag really was a good score, and the shirt, although at least a size too big, was cozy and made out of bamboo cotton. I am nothing if not eco-friendly when high. My dental adventures are over for now, but will resume next week when the permanent filling and crown are put on my poor dead tooth. Next week I will be sure to call Chris when I am finished the procedure, at the very least so that he can tell me what he wants if I happen to wander across the road and do any more narcotically-enhanced shopping. Can’t guarantee I’ll pick up the right size, though.