Don't Make Me Laugh, and Other Tooth Tales.

The day as documented by Elizabeth.

When it comes down to it, all I can say is that God certainly created Jello with a purpose.

On Monday, March 19, Sarah, accompanied by her mother and I, groggily waved goodbye to her wisdom teeth. At least, that is how we imagine it played out. Not being by her side throughout the procedure, we can only guess at the details. She does say, though, that the doctor (who we shall henceforth refer to as Dr. Pullgood) rolled his eyes at the nurses on more than one occasion.

When the nurse in the blue clothes summoned mom and I into the recovery room, Sarah met us with a moan. “My arm got THIS big,” said she, indicating a hill-sized area above her wrist. Apparently, the nurses experienced some technical difficulties while attempting to insert the needle for the iv. Doing my best not to cry at her weakened condition, I assured her that it really would be alright and placed Grace, my favorite lamb, by her lucky socks for moral support. 

Coming in close behind, Mom, Sarah’s other faithful supporter, quickly took possession of a very sketchy chair. For a second I grew indecisive in my protector instincts, unsure whether to instate disaster control in the unfortunate event of the collapse of my mother’s seat, or to somehow silence the groans coming from the cot. Thankfully, at this uncomfortable moment, Dr. Pullgood made his appearance in the doorway. He. Had. No. Hair. Quickly and concisely, he mentioned Sarah’s stellar performance in the surgery room. Bathed in humility, Sarah nodded painfully and poked gingerly at the wads of gauze streaming from her mouth. Personally, I doubt very much that she heard a word of what he said as he instructed us on how to care for someone who has just lost half her teeth. 

He spoke.
She poked.
He spoke.
She poked.

Finally, following a good deal of directions and cautions, he made his exit, murmuring something about genetics and marveling to himself  how all three of us looked exactly the same. Why thank you, sir. After all, don’t we all want to look this stunning? (She also made sure to check her fan mail at the first possible opportunity. :P)

By the time we walked out the door, a nurse on one side and mom on the other and she was telling the story yet again. "My arm...got THIS big." Yes, dear. I know. You told us that already. Let's just get you home and give you some Jello.

While our feminine parental unit was picking The Twin up at track, Sarah and I settled onto the couch for some quality sister time. This included Sarah’s computer and her very own personal container of lemon sorbet which, keeping Dr. Pullgood’s instructions in mind, I smooshed up in the microwave. She sucked away contentedly while I leaned back and kept an eye on her progress. The birds sang outside the open windows and the setting sun shone warmly behind us. All seemed right with the world.  Soon Josh Turner’s “Time Is Love” music video filled the screen, bedazzling both of us as we gazed dreamily on. Me: Ahhhhhhhhh, he is SO handsome.  Sarah: Mmmmmmmm… Me: *in a distracted tone* I think living in a home with 13 girls had made me appreciate guys more… Sarah: Well, *drinks from sorbet carton* I only live with one guy and I sure appreciate this one. *points to screen with bandaged arm* Me: Uuhhhhhhm… Sarah: *groggily* wait…..I…..*slurp* …I don’t think… *slurp* …that came out right…

Ok then. Why don't we go back to discussing how BIG your arm got.


Ahhh, I love my sister :D