Relapse nightmares haunting

I had the scariest nightmare last night, a nightmare that shows you never really feel safe.

It was about the tooth I was having extracted. In the dream I was getting the tooth pulled at Dana-Farber, while in real life the dentist is right down the road from me. In the dream, the dentist looked at me and said I had two big bruises on my arm and I would need to check in with my doctor about that sign of low platelets. I said my blood had just been checked, but she said I obviously needed to get it checked again because I might be relapsing. No one was available, so I had to go back home and would then have to go back at such time as I could make an appointment.

I was relieved to wake up and get my bearings. I did check for black and blue marks and saw some on my left shin. These come not from low platelets but from hitting myself on the leg with my tennis racquet. It was a good morning, all in all. For once, I cut into a cantaloupe at just the right time. Then I played a good doubles game.

My friend Chip took me to the surgeon to get the tooth pulled. I told the surgeon that I had lost track of how many teeth I am missing now. He counted up the spaces and said it was ten! I think I am beating my friend PJ on that count.

I didn't take an Ativan as I had in the past because I thought that with half of the tooth already having cracked and fallen out, it wouldn't be such a big deal. The surgeon said that would actually make it harder because there wouldn't be so much to grab onto and he might have to dig around in my gum. I said I was leaving to get some Ativan after all. No such luck, of course, but the worst part was actually getting the novocaine. The tooth came out pretty easily.

In six weeks I can get a bridge on the left side where the tooth was pulled. Since I can't chew on that side now and haven't been able to chew on the right side for some time, I am afraid I am looking at a period of mush and smoothies unless I chew with my front teeth like a rabbit.

I am writing this as the novocaine is wearing off, and I am not a happy camper. I am hitting the oxycodone and the couch.