Chelle, perfectly imperfect.

Monday, May 29, 2006

There was once, when I was quite young, probably at a single digit age, my mother went to have two wisdom teeth extracted. For hours later, her gums wouldn't stop bleeding, and it got so bad at night that she had to go to the hospital. I remember that I was sitting in the cab, crying my eyes out, because some thought had gotten into my head at that time, a thought that she might lose so much blood, and die. And that thought freaked me out like nothing else.

And so I looked out of the cab window and up to the sky, and made a promise that if my mother could get better, I would be well-behaved and obedient and all that for the rest of my life.

And yes, all this is true.

And with a few exceptions, I have been quite well-behaved, just in case you would like to know.

And yes, of course she got better.

Fast forward about a decade. I went to the dental clinic to have two adult teeth extracted today, as part of the whole braces procedure. The pain was nothing compared to the fear. What I felt was really more mental. I hadn't really expected the dentist to use pliers to do the job. And even though there were all the painkillers at work, I could still feel the pressure of my tooth getting yanked out.

It was a first for me. Before this, all the teeth that were ever taken out were milk teeth. Chicken feed. I took them out myself when their time came. And milk teeth don't have roots that extend deep into the gums.

But adult teeth do. And now, my gums won't stop bleeding, and it's getting really bad.

â™¥ The lights faded at 10:23 pm