Hungry

So, it's been a long week. Last Friday I had a visit with the periodontist ... while not a completely horrible visit, there were easily a dozen other things I'd rather be doing. If I thought for more than a minute, I bet I could come up with a dozen more.

I remember when I was pregnant with Q, I ended up avoiding the lunch room because I couldn't stand the stories - "Oh Lord, my labor was four days long!" "I had a ten pound baby and seven thousand stitches" "My sister has this friend ... " and so it went. I retreated to my desk for the last few months in order to preserve my sanity.

Much the same for my periodontal work. When I mentioned to someone that I was having a gum graft (not too pleasant of a title, eh?) they would make this face and then say, "Oh, I'm sorry, I bet that's gonna hurt" or "Better you than me" or "Wow, sucks to be you, huh?"

By the time 10:00 rolled around Friday morning, I was going to punch the next person who even dared comment about a procedure that they know NOTHING about. What I wanted to do was ask my brother in law how it felt when the doctor stuck his finger up his butt for a prostate exam, I bet that's not too comfortable now is it. But no, I kept my thoughts to myself and proceeded to the perio. I was in a stellar mood when I got there, though.

It wasn't too bad, the recovery isn't horrible, although I will admit that I am hungrier than all get out, since I can only eat soft foods on the right side of my mouth. Plus, I have stitches in the roof of my mouth and I can feel them when I talk. That's just annoying. I hope they get taken out on Friday when I go back for my follow up.

Maybe thats it - if you can't be nice, maybe you shouldn't say anything at all, especially when it's obvious that the person that said procedure will be done to is already nervous to start with.