Surgery is No Fun!

(This is what I felt like!)

My mom was really nervous about "putting me under". What the hell does that mean? Under wear? My Dr. gave her all sorts of scary statistics of what could happen to me if she didn't do anything about my decaying teeth. As I mentioned in my previous post, Dr. Hambright suggested to my mom that I have four teeth pulled. Nobody asked me what I wanted to do. I would have said, "I'm good," and smiled.

August 10th came too soon. I had a bad feeling when I hopped into the car at 7:30am. It could only mean one thing: Doom. Well, I don't really remember much about that day to tell you the truth. I was nervous and shaking one minute, then having all these weird dreams the next minute. I think I was flying a plane over the Bermuda Triangle at some point. No wait, that was Amelia Earhart. I came to around 1:30. My head was reeling. I didn't know where I was. I had drool all down my chin. They wanted me to stay for at least 3 more hours until I came to a little more. My mommy showed up early and talked to the people. When they brought me out to my mommy I was happy, but still out of it.

Mom drove me home. I don't remember much of the following 72 hours. I slept a lot. I did not eat much. I know Mom stuck something funny in those chunks of brie she fed me, but I sure felt good after a while. Plus, Mom gave me lots of canned food and raw meat medallions the following weeks.

I am back to eating dry food again, but sadly I don't have much interest in my beloved Greenies anymore. Mom still gives me one every night. She chops it into five smaller pieces. I eat 'em. It's just not the same anymore. I miss my teeth.