It’s a knockout
At last, eviction day is almost upon me. The job is to be done tomorrow at sparrowfart, and I am currently packing a bag with trashy magazines and my most decent pyjamas. I’m supposed to be fasting from midnight, so even though I’m stuffed after a delicious Last Supper I am of course dying to run over the road to Spar and stuff my face with an entire yellow Ritter Sport (the cornflakey one) in front of the meek assistant and then ask for another.
Having never had a tooth pulled nor a general anaesthetic applied, I’m picturing all kinds of ridiculous scenarios. For example, I’ve pretty much convinced myself that something like this will be going on while I’m knocked out, and that I’ll resemble a ginger watermelon once the bruises come up.
I’m also wondering if I’ll go a bit like this guy after the event. Needless to say, I’ll be giving the internets a very wide berth until the drugs wear off as I suspect my version would be neither as funny nor as cute. Sayonara, sthuckerth.
Don’t worry you’ll be fine.
It will be over before you know it and the bruising will only be noticeable for a while.
You’ll feel better once its done.
*hug*
Actually its probably done now… so hope you are feeling ok!
Getting there, thanks! x
I fell asleep in the dentist’s chair during fillings-time once, after a heavy night on the Sloe Gin. Tis the only way to do it,dude.
Heh, actually my anaesthetist called the first go of sedatives he gave me the “gin and tonic” – it did give me that rather swimmy ginny feeling.
Sounds a bit scary, but I’ve been told the relief is immediate. Best of luck with it, and hope you’re blogging again soon.
Ta! Not nearly as scary as I thought it’d be.
Hope you’re bouncing back and enjoying all the attention XX
Ah thanks. No attention though, I’m home alone with a supply of trashy tv and petits filous!