Oral surgery

SUCKS! IT SUCKS! IT SUCKS!

For some odd reason, when I get happy gas or meds, I talk. OK, that's not odd; what's odd is what I invariably say to the doctors who are about to start working on me. I do believe I told my brand new cardiologist that I loved him. After seeing him when I was clear headed, I could see why I would think such a thing, the man is drop dead gorgeous, but to say it? eek. Imagine my mortification when he told me about it after giving me my angiogram results while I was still crying about not being able to use a bed pan. Yeah, that was a good day.

Naturally, I tried to talk to my oral surgeon after they had given me valium and started the really good happy gas. For some reason I needed to tell him that I was having trouble coming to terms with existentialism and the idea of the will in my beloved Kant. Why did I need to tell him this? I have no idea. I suspect that I said something like, "Existentialism and the will are hard to reconcile." I also suspect he heard something like, "Exit sex will be hard on an island." Oh my. Can't wait for my follow up appointment on Tuesday.

Speaking of talking, I do NOT like not being able to talk. Come on, of all people? me?! I have tried to talk since the stupid surgery, but I sound like someone who is trying to make fun of people who are developmentally delayed. So, not only am I frustrated at not being able to talk, I am pissed off that I sound like something I despise. Gah! To illustrate the point, here's an interesting conversation I tried to have today:

Me: Thith ith Liethal MmmmQuthnnnn, I need to remesduthe ma sope.
Scheduler at doctor's office: What?
Me: I NEED TO RESK SK SKEDUTHE MA SOPE!
SADO: I'm sorry, I can't understand you. Is your caregiver available for me to talk to?
Me: I don ha a careiver! I NEED TO REMESDUTHE MA SOOOOOOPE!
SADO: Ma'am, I am really sorry, I can't understand you. Can you have your caregiver call us back?
Me: I DON HA A CARIVER! I AM REPONIBE FO MASEEF!
SADO: Ma'am, I am going to have to hang up now, please have your caregiver call us back.
Me: AH, SCWEW IT!

At least they will have no idea who I was since they couldn't possibly have understood my name.

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