Monday, March 2, 2009

The Silver Lining in a $4,000 Dental Procedure




As you loyal fans know, I was recently given the devastating news that my mouth had to undergo a pricey procedure for a cracked tooth - and when I say pricey, I mean selling-your-first-born-pricey.


The procedure sucked, but the aftermath was much more thrilling as I was given something equivalent to euphoria, that's right: vicodin. I have to say, people typically rave about vicodin, but my memory told me that it just caused me to vomit everywhere having my wisdom teeth taken out years ago, but ooooo-eeeeeeeee how times have changed!


Vicodin could quite possibly be one of the best things that has happened to me -- I'm a changed woman! Suddenly, the world look brighter and people I would usually judge I seemed to instead find "unique." Let me share a few examples:

- Barista at Peet's Coffee was wearing a full-on-to-the-break-of -dawn grill. Yeah, GRILL like platinum mouth piece covering his front teeth (gotta spell it out for the older blog readers out there). Along with his grill he had a platinum and gold (authenticity is in question) watch and a GIANT gold chain. This was all accompanied by a nice little brown apron. Now, typically I would think, "Oh WOW, what a douche." Do you know what I thought in my vicodin state? I giggled and thought, "that man has quite the imagination. how delightfully silly of him!"

- Man rollin down fillmore street (quaint street with boutiques, cafes etc) with his sebring convertible open jamming to Journey and screaming out the lyrics at the top of his lungs. My usual thought, "Douche alert." My thought on vicodin, "oh! what a wonderful singing voice that lad has!!"

- Woman walking down the street with rainbow golf umbrella, that is actually like a golf umbrella times 2 -- giant. Have never seen anything like it. She is approaching me, walking down the left side of the street while I, the law-abiding citizen, is walking down the right side of the street. Due to mammoth size of her umbrella, she couldn't see, and therefore full on hit me with her soaking wet umbrella. My usual thought, "B*tch watch it!!" My thought today, "oooooooooo rainbows!"


Now, I know this seems like a heart-warming story, but as they say, all good things must come to an end. The end in this case? An empty vicodin bottle. Oh, lord, it was the best of the times, and it was the worst of times. The day without vicodin couldn't have seemed longer. As I was mentally and physically still aching, I called my doctor for a refill. Much to my delight she agreed.


I raced in the pouring rain down to Walgreen's, I eagerly waited in line, squirming with pure anticipation of what awaited me at the counter. I stepped right up and proudly spelt my last name, but much to my surprise the pharmacy technician said, "Oh, I see this is a new prescription for you. Let me get the pharmacist."


Panic raced through my veins. "What. Wait. There must be some kind of mistake. No. That can't be right. I'm here for Vicodin. Yeah. Vicodin."


Technician: "oh miss, your doctor called in the generic version this time."


Me: "No. NOOOO (voice reaching a feverish pitch and hitting octaves only special dogs can hear)."


All of the sudden, things started happening, I was fidgeting, my toes were tapping, suddenly the second hand on the clock was ticking loudly and the pharmacist started grinning like a clown. I needed the real stuff.


Well, it didn't happen. Everyone knows the generic shit doesn't work. She could have just given me aspirin. And to think, I raced in the rain and got hit by that b*tch with that lame rainbow umbrella for this.