Tomorrow is the day when J’s wisdom teeth are extracted. He knows there’s something going on, but he hasn’t been told exactly what that is. It is without any concrete knowledge and last night he was up and tinkering around his room well past his bedtime. He was also up very early this morning…not just up, but up and about, bed made and everything.
I am pretty sure that J has superpowers. It’s not the being up very late, or very early. It’s the “I need a new Slinky.” The last time he went in for this thing he had the same Slinky he replaced this morning. No worries, Slinky didn’t go in the trash. Slinky is actually going into a small display case with a label that says Slinky Summa Fidelis circa 2013-2017. It’s the least we can do for a loyal companion who, sadly, lost its youthful spring and coil. It kept snagging on things, and -today of all days- J decided it was time for dignified retirement. That it was present for, and supportive through, every tooth extraction until this one speaks of a long, illustrious, respectable, admirable career. If the boxing gloves have pride of place in J’s bedroom, Slinky deserves no less…
The other noticeable thing this morning was that J is favoring his jaw again. It seems to pop out of place, and that is one of the things that told us he needed the dentist in the first place. Twice now I’ve told him “they will take care of that tomorrow!” He tells me GOOD MORNING and then BYE, but I think he’s starting to realize what all the preparations mean.
Yes, I have more ice packs than you could possibly imagine ready in the freezer. I also bought him a rather large and comfy maternity pillow that you can use to prop yourself up. Menus will include puddings, yogurts, hearty broths with polenta, ice cream, the silkiest scrambled eggs you can possibly imagine…I’ve even trotted out the recipe for cornstarch pudding that my aunt used to make when I had dental extractions as a child.
We have Legos, movies, music. A bag has been packed with books to keep J engaged while the pre-op stuff is done. We have the TWO iPads, and plenty of music in them. As far as these things go, we are prepared.
Not much else we can do now. We just wait for them to call and say at what time to be there. We then plan the rest of the day, and the eight hours previous to the surgery, accordingly. And then we come home and we go about the business of recovering, and accepting J’s ill humor (if he has it,) discomfort and pain (that’s par for the course,) and we set in motion all the things we’ve planned for this situation.
Wish us luck.