« How to tell a real 1959 Gibson Les Paul guitar from a fake | Home | Tour boj World Headquarters »

July 14, 2020

Why do I feel I've dodged a bullet every time I go somewhere and don't get sick the following week?

Zz

The thought in the headline up top occurred to me this morning, thinking about last Friday's visit to my superb oral surgeon, Dr. Nate Tricker, who extracted 5 — count 'em, FIVE (above ) — damaged teeth from my lower jaw.

They look better out than they did in.

But I digress.

Alas, as an adult it's the Bizarro World Tooth Fairy who visits: instead of a shiny dime under your pillow when you wake the next morning, you get to think about the extensive wallet biopsy when the bill arrives and your dental insurance doesn't cover most of the cost.

But I digress yet again.

Visiting Dr. Tricker's office was way different than last year.

It's a new universe: someone took my temperature with a forehead probe before I was even allowed into the waiting room.

Etc., etc.

I wore my mask and wraparound protective glasses at all times except when Dr. Tricker examined me pre-op and of course during the extractions.

It's now Tuesday, day #4 post visit, and I'm not coughing or febrile or at all COVID-19 symptomatic.

Stay tuned.

July 14, 2020 at 12:01 PM | Permalink


Comments

Ah feeeel yur pain.
I feel that way after I go ANYWHERE requiring closer than 6-foot contact with persons for longer than 15 seconds. Upcoming, I have a breast ultrasound, a blood draw for several items at Quest Diagnostics, a nephrologist's appt to tell me if my kidneys are hanging on by a thread or what, then a visit to big downtown hospital to see my pulmonologist to discuss the state of my previously trusty lungs and the anticoag I take and whether or not I can figure on bleeding to death in the near future. You know, just regular old everyday shit.

And after each outing, I'll be taking my temp obsessively and alerting all my sensors and feelers to every tiny hack or cough, and imagining that the most minuscule ache is the onset of the ravagement of the covid cooties, and of course any slight huff or puff is the endothelium blood clots gathering steam, on the march, ready to make me a blip, rather, a bliplet, in history. 😵☠️⚰️

One of those bullet's gotta have my name on it, I figure. Of course, I could just dodge the covids altogether and maybe the nephro will just tell me to start carving my headstone and picking out a plot. Or an urn, since I like the ashes to ashes idea best. But I want a sticker on it that sez "Keep this urn at least 6 feet away from other urns," and I want a little mask on it. Just as a little souvenir of the Days of the Covids.

Posted by: Flautist | Jul 15, 2020 4:44:41 PM

I had my first implant last year on a tooth that I cracked 10 years earlier. It's a long journey but things seem ok. Expensive because it wasn't covered under my feeble work supplied dental plan.

Posted by: Greg Perkins | Jul 15, 2020 12:16:51 PM

Post a comment