Behold, the teeth that came out of the gums of my eldest daughter this morning. The poor dear showed up in the oral surgeon's office wearing her silk pajamas, pink slippers and Snoopy robe, clutching an enormous stuffed rabbit under her arm, ready and willing to go to sleep for the sake of her future dental health.
Other than a sharp intake of breath and a couple of tears hovering at the corners of her eyes as the stinging sedatives entered her bloodstream, she was an absolute trouper. She endured Bubba's jokes that we may have to supply the catgut stitches ourselves by performing a tummy tuck on our own kitty. She watched in rapt fascination as the blood pressure cuff, oxygen monitor and EKG leads were stuck to various parts of her body. She didn't move a muscle as the twin cannulas poked themselves into her delicate little nostrils to deliver oxygen and measure her carbon dioxide output, even though they were altogether the wrong fit and forced her nostrils apart unnaturally. She went to sleep peacefully and trusted that she would wake up just fine.
That she did. Bubba and I refused to look at each other for the first few minutes in the waiting room, knowing that meeting the other's eyes would only prompt tears from both of us. We managed spurts of conversation amidst islands of silence and he finally said, "It is so much easier to be the one in there," as he gestured toward the door of the operating room.
But an hour and a half later, the doctor emerged from the back office to let us know that she had sailed through and was ready to go home. Packing ice, extra gauze, tea bags to help stop the bleeding (wet them and it activates the tannic acid which helps stop the blood flow), and a baggie with nine of her teeth, we headed out. She spent the day on the couch watching Star Wars movies with Bubba and endured only a few twinges of major pain. Her tongue has found the stitches (she calls them 'whiskers') protruding from her gums and pokes at them endlessly. She is enjoying her diet of applesauce, mashed potatoes, 7-up, and ice cream (specifically dark chocolate and blackberry, although not together). Her cheeks are puffy and her eyes are very tired, but she has sailed through the first day better than we could have ever imagined.
As we tucked her in to bed tonight and poured all nine teeth in to her tooth fairy box she said, "I hope nobody else around here lost any teeth today, cuz the tooth fairy is going to be really busy at our house tonight." Indeed, my dear. Indeed.