Fudge and Vern are Good Nurses, After All!!!

[Laurie, Fudge, and Vern]

Last week, I had to have a tooth pulled. I had a root canal in that tooth years ago and for the last ten years I have had problems with the tooth from time to time. It always seemed to know to act up when I was on vacation, so in my opinion, it got what was coming to it the other day.  The only problem with severing my friendship with this tooth was I had to be the one to take it to the dentist for its final demise and I hate the dentist. He is a perfectly nice man, but nothing good happens there and I would almost certainly rather face a bear than one man wielding a drill and a shot of Novocain. To me, going to the dentist amounts to torture and if you told me your deepest, darkest secret and swore me to everlasting silence, I would uphold that promise, unless a person with a DDS degree came along behind you holding a periodontal probe and said, “what did they just say?” After that, all bets are off and I would sing like a canary.

 

I am not sure if the Dental assistant working with my dentist was new or had been absent the day they went over the proper way to handle the sprayer and suction equipment, but her technique needed a little work.  She was, however, a very good talker and seemed hell bent on telling the dentist and me about her previous night’s adventure and was not going to let a little thing like my wide open mouth, full of all kinds of dental equipment, stand in her way.  I heard all about her trip to the cemetery late at night to replace her grandparent’s flowers and how a deer was lying by the graveside and what a start it gave her when it got to its feet.  I wanted to say, “I am so sorry about your scare and your grandparents,” but I was afraid if I tried I might gag on the water running down the back of my throat, chin, and neck.  The dentist finally told her to turn the water pressure down and I had to wonder what tipped him off. Was it the gurgling sounds I was making, my sop and wet shirt, or when I tried to sign for a towel and a squeegee?  It seemed to me that her little water sprayer was turned up to the highest setting and I am guessing that setting should only be used if you are power washing a deck.

 

At one point, I am pretty sure I swallowed either a piece of my tooth or part of the drill while she was talking about her daughter’s school.  When I told the dentist that I had swallowed something, he said, “I bet it was a piece of tooth,” like he had just solved a great mystery and swallowing a tooth was an everyday occurrence.  I was really hoping that he would turn to Chatty Cathy and say, “How about we focus now, so this patient does not end up having the rest of her molar for breakfast,” but he didn’t.  My sister recently bought a vacuum at Kohl’s. She asked the young kid who waited on her which vacuum he recommended and he said, “my mom just bought this one last week and she said it sucks real good.”  Based on that sterling recommendation, she bought the vacuum. Well, with that being my grading system criteria, I would have to say this dental assistant sucked real bad.  The good news is the dentist pulled the tooth and sent this wet, but relieved, patient home.

 

Vern and Fudge had gone to the pet sitter’s house while I went to the dentist. When she brought them home, Fudge gave me her usual greeting, which involves standing by the pet sitter and looking upward while I tell her I missed her. Fudge really prefers to stay home with me and let Vern go by himself with the sitter, so I think this is her way of saying that she has still not forgiven me for making her go and now, because I betrayed her, I am her second choice.  Vern, meanwhile, jumped right up on the sofa next to me and started trying to smell my mouth. He is not a big kisser, but he gave me a gentle, little kiss. He did not care that I looked like I had just gone three rounds in the ring with Mike Tyson and my breath probably smelled like something he stuck his nose in up at the park the other day.

 

Later, that night I took a bath. Our bathroom door does not lock properly and the dogs can barge in at any time. Most of the time, I am alone during the day and really do not find it a problem, but company seems to mind. My friend went in one day to have some alone time, and Vern and Fudge followed a short time later to find out what she was doing. I could tell by her screams that she really did not like visitors when she was in the bathroom. Some people are just funny that way. We could fix our door, but that is not how we operate. My husband likes to wait until I apply my “complain until he cannot stand it a minute longer” technique before he acts.

 

During my bath last night, both dogs came in to check on me. Fudge left soon enough, but not Vern. He wanted to smell my mouth again and give me another kiss, which was great, but then he kept staring and would not leave. Remember, he is afraid of a lot of things, so I give him credit for standing his ground to make sure I was doing all right. Personally, I have looked down in the shower and screamed in horror and don’t think I am fooled by my husband handing me a robe and saying, “Please, I beg of you, put this on before you get cold,” the minute I step out of the shower.  Years ago, my daughter walked in on me when I was in the bath and yelled, “Gross! Cover yourself with a towel or something,” right before I informed her that it wasn’t my standard practice to bathe in my bathing suit. My Vern, however, stayed strong and vigilant and waited until I emerged from my bath before he left my side. Apparently, my dog that can roll in anything might be far sighted too.

 

Fudge slept next to me when I got into bed and kept me warm, which is truly one of my favorite things and always makes me feel better. Vern patrolled the bedroom area by doing a large number of walk bys to make sure I was still doing fine and taking it easy like the doctor ordered. Once in a while, he would turn his nose to me and sniff like he knew something was not the same in my mouth.  I appreciated his concern and told him so each and every time he stopped by my side of the bed. A girl could do much worse than two Doodle nurses. Meanwhile, I am following the doctor’s orders and drinking milkshakes every day. Now, if I could just get Fudge and Vern to make them, life would be perfect.

 

[Clifford, Cloud, Jake..and Kim]

I can tell you aren't feeling yourself just yet - there were far fewer pictures in your blog than normal!  I hope the doodles and milkshakes work to make the pain of the dentist just a memory to be forgotten like childbirth.

[Karen, Jasper and Jackdoodle]

I can just picture your two adorable doodle nurses tending to you! You are a lucky woman, I hope you're feeling better soon!