Gum Graft: Post Op Instructions

1. Drink something cold and slushy within 30 minutes of the surgery

Yay! Jamba Juice!

But no citrus, as the acid might aggravate.

Oh. No Mango a Go Go. I settled for a Matcha Green Tea Freddo.

2. Eat only soft foods, like eggs, noodles, rice & beans, pasta

This seemed easy, until I checked my fridge and pantry. To the store for box mac & cheese and a few packs of ramen. Who knew that dental surgery would have me eating like a college student again?

On a brighter note, it was an excellent excuse to buy pudding.

3. Keep your blood pressure down, no rigorous exercise

Apparently, the higher the blood pressure, the slower the healing.

Ha! Like I do anything rigorous! I just walk at lunchtime often arriving back at the office slightly out of breath. . .

Rats.

* * * * * * * *

It's been a week and all feels well. No more horse pills, and the medicinal mouthwash no longer stings when I swish. There is sometimes pain around where the tissue was taken, but that’s getting better too. Even the silly putty band aid (seriously, the band aid looks like silly putty) is less annoying. It only feels like I have something stuck on my teeth every two hours instead of every 5 minutes. The follow up appointment's on Friday.

Gum Graft

There I was, sitting in the dentist's chair, successfully swallowing (by the grace of God) a horse pill of ibuprofen.

The procedure was a gum graft, where a bit of healthy tissue from behind one of my molars was transplanted to a thinning area above one of my incisors.

It wasn't that bad, really. Thirty-two percent of my ability to endure certain levels of pain and discomfort comes from having my hair combed as a child.

The rest of my ability came from the local anesthetic. Truly an amazing discovery, anesthesia. The backbone of modern medicine, I dare say.

At one point during the procedure, strings as light as corn hair brushed across my lips. What in the world? Oh, those must be stitches. I'm getting stitches?! Yay?

There was also a rhythmic thumping, like a small, plastic, hand held bellows was being pumped. I'd write a song to that beat if I were a lyricist.

And then it was over. I was given a prescription for more horse pill ibuprofen, and a bottle of medicinal mouthwash. "Don't eat 30 minutes after rinsing with it," said the receptionist. "It'll make whatever you're eating taste horrible." The bottle itself says,

NOTE: To minimize medicinal taste, do not rinse with water immediately after use.

That's right. Water only makes it worse. Robitussen tastes like fruit punch in comparison.

Chatted Up

I have a Nordstrom gift card burning a hole in my wallet. So I went to Westfield Topanga – the giant mall in Woodland Hills with a Tesla showroom and a carousel – to try to find a pair of heels.

(Unfortunately, the heels I'm most drawn to – a pair of classic black pointy toe beauties – are Manolo's. Outside of my budget doesn't begin to describe  )

As I trekked through the 2^nd floor maze of the mall, a man who looked old enough to be my grandfather crossed my path.

Happy New Year! he greeted with a smile.

Happy New Year! I returned, then paused. He looked like he wanted to say something else. And, as I had already dubbed him The Octogenarian, it would've been rude to brush past him without letting him speak.

Do you work? I thought he meant, was I working today?, so I replied no. He looked sad and distressed by the news. Did he think I was unemployed? I attempted to clarify.

Well, I work Monday through Friday, 9 to 5. A bit of relief,

That's a long time to work, 8 hours. But concern for my welfare.

Well, I have a lunch break.

An hour? What time?

Yes, an hour. Well, I usually leave around noon, take a walk, then eat.

Where do you walk? which I heard as Where do you work?, for he had a bit of an accent.

Brentwood.

Where do you walk?

Oh – by my office.

Hmm, yes. It's safer that way.

I sort of shrugged. I don't think about safety when I walk – I think about going out and getting back in roughly 30 minutes so I have some time to eat. I believe I said something to that effect.

Will you be here tomorrow?

No. This was a surprising line of questioning.

He was sad again. Where do you work?

Brentwood *

Ah, that's far away. I wish you could be here tomorrow. Do you like sushi?

Yes, I do like sushi. Wait, what? Is he chatting me up?

It's too bad you won't be here tomorrow

Well, we'll see how I feel after I go to church, knowing full well I would not be in the mood to drive to Woodland Hills to have lunch with an Octogenarian apparently interested in a woman who looked more than half his age.

I wish I could see you tomorrow.

<Smile> Well, it was nice talking to you. Happy New Year! At least, I think that's how I got out of the dangerously spiraling loop.

Happy New Year!

Yeah. It was kinda of weird.

* I just now realized he thought I worked in the mall. There's a reason I identify with turtles and tortoises.