Wednesday, 22 February 2012

A wisdom tooth

Nothing could have ever prepared me for this situation and I’m sure I wouldn’t react any differently even if I someone had told me how.

I’m sitting on a green leather chair, trying to relax and gain control over my body. Unsuccessfully. Every muscle in my body is tense, like a guitar string. I realise that my wet palms are grabbing my thighs uncontrolably and I loosen the grip.

Suddenly something falls into my throat and I start coughing.
“Spit it out, spit it out!!” the surgeon yells, which only frightens me and I react the way I probably shouldn’t have – I swallow whatever was in my throat.

I don’t see the expression on their faces because my whole body is covered with green fabric, with a hole in it that only reveals my mouth. Everything stops for a moment and then the surgeon pokes my lower gum.
“Do you feel this?”
I want to scream but only a distorted yes comes out of my mouth, which is full of tubes and other medical instruments.
“Right, you need more local anaesthesia.“ he says and pokes me with the needle. The time that passes seems like an eternity but I’m sure it’s only a matter of minutes until anaesthesia kicks in and we continue with the procedure.

The second tooth goes out as smoothly as the first one and soon a nurse uncovers me and the surgeon looks at me for a second until he starts explaining what happened.

“You swallowed a tooth.” he says and I stare at him incredulously.
“Are you serious?” I can’t quite believe what he is saying; I thought I ate a small piece of my tooth, not the whole thing.
“Yes, you swallowed your tooth so you’ll have to have you lungs x-rayed; we want to make sure that the tooth isn’t in your lungs.“
“You’re serious, aren’t you?“
I start laughing loudly and everyone stares at me for a while and then they all start to laugh at me.

My reaction might be inappropriate but I can’t imagine anything appropriate to do when an oral surgeon tells you that you just swallowed your own wisdom tooth.

Photo taken from here.

Monday, 13 February 2012

100 words: Not Valentine's

He woke me up quietly with his sweet, gentle voice.
”Honey, wake up.“ he said.
“I don’t want to get up just yet. Can I stay in bed all day, please?“
“I’ve made breakfast for you, it’s already on the table.”
”You’re too sweet.” I smiled and got up.

On the dining table I saw a plate with scrambled eggs and a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice, my favourite breakfast.

It wasn’t Valentine’s day, it was an ordinary day. I don’t need a special day to show him how much I love and cherish him and neither does he.

Photo taken from here.

Thursday, 9 February 2012

100 words: The concertmaster

She got my attention the moment she walked into the hall, looking glamorous in a long black dress with little crystals on her torso and with her blonde hair strapped together at the nape.
When everyone was at their place they all quietly looked at her, waiting for her nod. She lead them in tuning, kindly smiled when they finished and waited for the conductor to walk into the hall; they shook hands and only then she sat down.
The orchestra started playing Webern's Passacaglia and her face brightened, it was obvious that this is what she is living for.  

Photo taken from here.