2 posts tagged “dying”
At what point does the clicking, ticking of the clock say loud enough that there's never enough time in our life?
I believe I'm a bit too observational. On Friday I had 3 teeth pulled and 1 tooth cut out. I can't say that I'm entirely fearless as no one can ever say that unless they're either delusional, dead or know something I don't. But once I was hooked up to the machinery my blood pressure was normal and my rest heart rate was around 60 (which given that it was 45 about two years ago is a sad indication of trending).
Once they put the nitrous over my nose I breathed in and I instantly felt the rush. "Wow, it's a wonder that more dentists aren't addicts", I told the doc. He replied back, "Well, there are some that get addicted to it. It's their after work cocktail. However a long term side-effect of nitrous addiction is peripheral neuropathy." It's a hell of a conversation to have when you're high on nitro.
Next began the sedation drip. I could tell almost instantly when the drugs hit my bloodstream. "Have you stared the drip? I can feel my arm starting to tingle". The doc replied back, "yes, we've began the drip". The next thing I know I'm being roused and talked to. I'm not entirely clear-headed enough to remember the conversation other than "It's over and everything went fine". I guess when I looked down at my feet and noticed my shoes were off and I only had on my socks they told me that I had asked to take my shoes off during the operation. I couldn't but grin because I knew that I had to. If it's one thing I really loathe in this world is having to wear shoes. Even at work I'll slip off my shoes and work with my feet under the cubicle.
The day before all of this since it's been well over 7 years since I'd been put under any sedation I figured it was time to have pancakes. That kind of logic is likely going to boggle some minds so I should explain. If I'm presented with a situation that could lead to my untimely death I want to have had pancakes at least the day before or the day of my death. Why? They're probably my favorite meal that I can possibly think of. I'm often reminded of my dad cooking them for me while I was growing up and the breakfast I shared with my parents. It's one of the few times I'm truly sentimental and those are about as common as chicken teeth.
