Wisdom teeth DO NOT make you smarter

I'm not going to lie. I was more than a little nervous when Diana dropped me off at the doctor's office. I brought Flat Jason. He gave me something to focus on: instead of being worried about what was going to happen, I needed to engage those in the room in conversation, lest I be remembered solely as the weirdo who brought a flat version of her husband to get her wisdom teeth pulled.

I visited with Joanna and her mother from Unionville, Mo. Joanna was there for a consultation visit. Her mother said she had her wisdom teeth out at my age and was sure that I'd be ok. I asked her if she saved her teeth. She laughed and said if she had, she wouldn't know where to look for them now. Linda, who sat on the couch across from us, said that her husband had his removed more than 20 years ago. They found them again as they were packing (or maybe unpacking) for a move. I said that must be a boy thing because my husband wanted me to save mine. However, everyone in the room agreed that it was not normal to want to put them on a necklace!

The nurses who were working with me were excited to have Flat Jason in the back, too. Both of them were Army wives. Thanks for taking the photos for me! (And to Dr. Tim Coyle for putting up with my shenanigans!)

This photo is the last thing I remember before waking up. Thank goodness! That's the part I was most worried about - the going-under part. Diana was there to pick me up, but I tried to start talking too soon, and my mouth started bleeding again. More stitches for me.

Then Diana took me home and put me (and Flat Jason) to bed. She even took off the new quilt Grandma made (more on that later) so we wouldn't get blood on it. We put ice packs in socks and tied them to my face. It worked surprisingly well - thank you Henry Michael! Thanks also to Diana, my incredible roomie, who provided transport to and from surgery and kept me on schedule with drugs and food.