H got another dental implant this morning. I’ve lost count of how many this makes. The appointment was at 7:30 a.m. We were home by 9:15, and that included a stop at the grocery store for soft, fatty foods for him. I was stocked with soft foods, but I thought of broccoli-cheddar soup, and a baked potato with butter and cheese and maybe sour cream (the doc said fatty).
He slept in the car while I went in the store. I was only in there a few minutes, but I thought about how you’re not supposed to leave your pets or children in the car on hot days. What about a drugged-out-of-his-gourd husband? When I returned, he was sleeping like a baby, but not unconscious, panting or sweating profusely. The police were not called, and I didn’t go to jail. All in all, things worked out well.
This implant is the third thing he’s scheduled in a month. Remember the two MOHS surgeries? The first MOHS surgery hadn’t even healed before he got the second one. I had no idea he was scheduling like this until we were in the midst of it all. It’s kind of like a roller coaster. Once you’re on the ride, there’s no getting off. He said he wanted to get it all over with. He promised me that this was the end of any appointments that involve cutting, stitching, extracting or implanting. Of course, he was under the influence of drugs when he said that.
I texted my son a photo of his dad with a plastic zip bag filled with crushed ice that was shoved inside a lady’s stocking and tied around his head.
Son: Expletive!!! (one that mother’s don’t allow)
Son: At least the black eye is mostly gone
Me: I know. He’s sleeping… probably for the rest of the afternoon. He made all these appointments a week or two apart. I didn’t know until they started.
Son: LOL Yeah, sounds like him. An efficient sadist he is. Or is it masochist? He enjoys efficiently hurting himself.
Me: Masochists like to inflict pain on themselves or for others to do it. Sadists like to inflict pain on others. Dad’s a masochist. I’m a sadist.
Son: Now I will NEVER forget.
Me: I will be sharing this text.
Why fatty foods? The doctor said that fatty foods release endorphins that make us feel good, and it will probably help him with the pain. Or maybe make him feel good about the pain?? I don’t remember them telling me that on any of the half-dozen other implants he’s gotten, but I realized immediately the truth in that. Who doesn’t know that mashed potatoes and gravy make you feel good, and ice cream and chocolate pudding.
Fat + Sugar = HAPPINESS.
He has enough implants in his mouth to buy a new car, but they are great, better than real teeth. I comfort myself with that when I look at the bill. The dentist said he needs a night guard. He said, “I told him that before, but he didn’t tell you, did he?” Nope. He said, “He won’t remember any of this. Tell him he promised you a new car.” The new car is in his mouth, Doc.