No Longer Erupting

I've been putting off getting my super-erupting wisdom teeth out for more than a year because the mere thought of it threw me into a high state of anxiety.  I've had a spinal fusion, two c-sections and lord knows how many other invasive procedures, but this wisdom teeth gig really freaked me out.  It was part claustrophia, part having something removed from your head with a wrench.  It was also part PTS as I had two impacted wisdom teeth out about 15 years ago and the oral surgeon drilled into a nerve, laying me up for a week on Percocet and grape popsicles.  This time the upper teeth were merely erupting, which is apparently a better scenario.  But James wasn't making matters any better on the ride over, suggesting they'd probably still have to break the teeth up a little to get them out.   What?  He quickly changed the subject, telling me he'd gotten his hair cut that morning by the "most annoying person he's ever encountered."  Those who know James know he is not an abuser of hyperbole, he uses superlatives sparingly.  He couldn't pinpoint any one reason the stylist was supremely annoying other than a line about "preferring to party at the bars in Quincy." He was simply offended by her entire manner and the way she talked.  He was really fired up about it too.  And its effect, the randomness of it all,  was like laughing gas on me as we pulled into the parking lot.  Of course, as it is with everything, the anticipation was worse than the actual event.  The extraction was over in less than 10 minutes and now I'm enjoying a little pharmaceutical vacation.  Thinking about going out for a bowl of mashed potatoes later.