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.