L.B. and I returned home
almost two weeks ago. Sometimes we are not the best at finishing our
documentation projects, but we promise you that the remainder of our vacation
was delightful.
We are now embarking on the second adventure of this
summer:
The One With E.'s Mother-Dentist Extracting Her (E's) Wisdom Teeth
L.B. has it easy this time. He doesn’t even have to open
his mouth. (Which he can’t, by the way.) Though he has graciously (ha) agreed
to join me for the After Party. Of course. We’re planning to forage for
smoothies and watch movies.
But the After Party must wait until after The Present Procedure. Minor oral surgery is not
horrible compared to some procedures, but everyone has their own cross to bear,
and for the next twenty-four hours, this one is mine.
I feel so afraid tonight.
The night before is
always agonizing.
Granted, I’m not
paralyzed by fear. Today I cooked up two batches of pureed vegetable soups for
my recovery time. I reorganized the living room. I accidentally broke a lamp. I
taught my violin student this morning. I even recited several positive
affirmations about having my wisdom teeth removed. (I am my mother’s daughter.)
But I still feel afraid,
even though everyone tells me not to feel afraid. I think it is that kind of
fear that you cannot reason or positive-think away. Perhaps because it is a
very real and natural response to the knowledge that you are about to undergo
something that will inevitably cause you some pain. I can’t avoid it. General
anesthesia is not an option for me, so I will have to consciously experience the
procedure, though thankfully with the use of a local anesthetic.
I
have never had my wisdom teeth removed before, and the unknown is terrifying at
times. Especially when the unknown is
dappled with little bits of known. Little memories of past experiences
involving pain.
…Perhaps this anxiety is
similar to how one feels before giving birth for the first time? …I wouldn’t
know.
This will be a new
experience!
…
Little Bear is little,
and I am little, too.
Little Bear wears
trousers, and I wear trousers, too.
Little Bear is filled
with fluff, but I am filled with flesh and bone and blood.
We do not feel like
equals tonight.
But Jesus was of flesh
and bone and blood,
(Or He…still is?)
And His flesh was pierced
and He bled.
…And in a very small way,
my flesh will be pierced and I will bleed, too.
Maybe this is what it means
to share in Christ’s agony and suffering.
Oh, I know, it’s not the exact same thing. Hopefully I won’t feel
the cutting…But I must still wait for the operation tomorrow, and I still feel
some dread and fear. A bit of fear. And
a bit of hope. Perhaps enough to make me courageous.
Oh well.
I’m excited for the After
Party.
And Little Bear and my
sister will be waiting for me.
But until then, tonight
brings waves of A Bit of Agony.
Until tomorrow.
Emily Oh, you are positively marvelous.
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