The Sheep Is Moving On!

Dental work: complete!!! This will be the final "Dr. DeSade" post for a while. Let freedom ring!!!!

Now, The Sheep considers herself something of a "wordsmith." I enjoy both written and verbal forms of language and like to think that I express myself well. Thus, I truly believed that in this, my final appointment-to-fix-everything-that-I-had-let-go-to-hell, I could clearly and articulately let the good dentist know just what has been going on in my much-abused mouth over the last few months. I pictured it something like this:

Him: Well, good morning to you, oh wonderful patient. And how are you today, you little gift to dentists everywhere?

Me: Well, Doc, here's the thing. I'm running out of places in my mouth where I can actually chew solid food. The last fillings you did are horribly sensitive and I've had to go back to chewing on the right side. And, as you well know, the crown you installed is really just holding on by some cement and a prayer so it gets kind of irritated easily. Sometimes it itches. I've developed this weird drooling habit and I'm thinking that this is not a good look for me. As a result of all this oral restoration, I have lost another 15 pounds since November. Now, you'd think this would be a good thing, but it has set off a chain reaction of blood work and consultations to explore malnutrition, anemia and the like. In addition, my skin no longer fits and I have a crumply tummy thing going on which can only be addressed through plastic surgery.

So, here's what I'm saying: I really need your "A-Game" today. This is my last unsullied tooth and it has to work. I cannot subsist on lukewarm soup and room temperature applesauce for the rest of my life. I'm rootin' for you here. I believe in you. Put on your game face and make this work. Don't over-focus on the pain-killers. We've established that they don't work all that well. Don't keep trying to distract me through inane conversation. I need to focus in order that I don't just bite your finger off. Drill 'n Fill like you never have before. God Speed to you good sir!


I carefully crafted this speech and rehearsed it diligently for an entire week. I was ready. Alas, by the time I got to the appointment, I was a tad tweaked. Nerves had completely taken over and the power of speech simply drained from my body in a flood of drool. It ended up going something like this:

Him: How ya doin'? (Not looking at me, simply lovingly arranging sharp, pointy tools on his little dentist tray)

Me: (barely audible) umm.....good. You?

End of conversation.

Oh, well. It's over and I don't have to go back until July. It's probably for the best. I often find that conversations I have in my head tend to go far better than in real life. On a positive note, I did get to wear my new belt:

Whoo, Sheepie! Take it off!!! Um, no wait...middle-aged, crumply tummy. Put it on! For the love of God, put it on!!!!!!

Yeah, I know...I'm not really the belt type. But I bought the damn thing and, by golly I was going to wear it at least once!

In between impulse belt-buying, speech rehearsals and dental nightmares, there has been a wee bit of knitting. The second stashbuster project seemed "off" to me. Something wasn't quite right with the sleeves and I'm still not sure if it was a pattern error or a Sheep miscalculation. (probably the latter, I fear) As I was never really sure if this one was going to work it was an easy fix: I went all Kermit on it's hienie and you can call it "frogged." I've started another project which is interesting in it's own right and will, hopefully, have better news to report on that once I get a bit further with it.

Otherwise, this Sheep is just enjoying her weekend, secure in the knowledge that Dr. DeSade will be torturing some other poor soul for a while.

Do you think he'll miss me?

SA