I get my wisdom teeth out in 7 days. Part of me is relieved. The other part is boardering on terrified.

I know, it’s a simple procedure. People have it done all the time. I’ll probably be fine. Still….if I let myself think about it for too long, my stomach gets bunched up in knots.

Why is it that as soon as you tell people you’re getting your wisdom teeth out, they then feel compelled to give you the worst horror story they know about it? “Oh, my brother had that done. He was out for a month!” “My cousin wound up with dry sockets. It looked so painful.” “I swelled up like a blimp! It didn’t go down for weeks!” Then, seeing the horror and panic in my eyes, they quickly add, “But I’m sure you’ll be fine.” Thanks. 😛

I’ve never had any type of surgery done. Never broken a bone. Heck, I’ve never even been stung by a bee! (Not sure how I’ve managed that, running around barefoot like I do.) So the idea of someone coming at me with knives and needles is a bit unnerving. Add that to the fact that I just don’t like doctors. Doctors are evil, sadistic people who poke you, prod you, invade you and then when you yelp in pain, they ask, “Oh, did that hurt?” But that’s ok. I exact my revenge by being less than cooperative. 😉 I don’t typically think of myself as witty but stick me on an examination table and I’m the next Rodney Dangerfield.

I forget who it was but recently someone told me that when they got their teeth out, they didn’t have the doctor put them fully under. They just wanted to be numbed and then they prayed through the whole thing. I’m sitting there thinking, “Yeah, that’s great. But I’m a whimp. They better knock me out with a bat if that’s what it takes.” 😉 I do admire that person though.

So, if you think about it, please pray for me. I’m not really a bundle of nerves yet but come next Wed. night, I’m sure I’ll need some help calming down. And *please* don’t tell me any more horror stories!