Nitrous oxide, Kenny G and a shot of Novacaine

The soothing tones of Kenny G's saxophone helped lull me into a mild state of stupor this morning, helped along by the steady stream of nitrous oxide being pumped into my lungs. Unfortunately it wasn't loud enough to drown out the miniature construction crew drilling the mercury out of my teeth, but I was pretty numbed up by then thanks to an extra shot of Novacaine. 

I think laughing gas can bring great insight if administered properly. You're conscious enough to know what's going on and react to the dentist's directions, but you're relaxed enough to let your mind wander where it will. Mine took a nice holiday, save the one moment when the drill dipped too close to a nerve. I gave the international sign for "aaoaooooooooowwww!!" (a frantic wave) because, of course, my mouth was full of silverware and could only register "gaaaagluggggergg," which can also be mistaken for  "I'm rather enjoying the sensation of flying." My brain, free but still alert, started screaming: "You're perilously close to a nerve! Perilously close! Perilously close!" Then it stepped back and realized what it was screaming. Who else but me would exclaim of "peril" instead of opting for a succinct #&!@? Note to self: Try not to laugh when you've been gagged with a Latex dropcloth and a man is holding a drill to your molar.

I can only hope Bella's experience was as enlightening as mine. She is having a sleepover with the vet tonight after being spayed, having an umbilical hernia repaired and having two puppy teeth pulled. I was going to post pictures, but then I thought she might be embarrassed to have her imperfections displayed for the whole world to see. I couldn't have that, especially when I'm already feeling guilty for denying her the experience of motherhood. But, as my Chicago friend says, "Her children would have been taken away from her anyway." Better to spare her, I suppose.