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Ever wake up with a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach?

I had a premonition that Friday was not going to be a stellar day.

I was scheduled to have oral surgery at 1:30pm.

I woke up early, went to Pilates to calm my soul and then at 12:45 I walked across Central Park to the doctor’s office on Madison Avenue.

I arrived 15 minutes early as requested.

When I walked in the receptionist looked stunned.
“What are you doing here?! Didn’t someone call you?!”

My first thought was that the doctor was ill.

No…he had left the practice on Monday and moved elsewhere.

No one called me from either office.

I quickly ran to his new office.

They were just as surprised to see me.

To add insult to injury, someone had cancelled my appointment!

Now I’m really pissed off.

I filled out new paperwork and sat tight despite the pulsating vein in my neck and let us not forget the throbbing in my mouth.

15 minutes later I was led into a modern  examination room.

The oral surgeon, who I really like, was all apologies.

I saw him last Thursday and he couldn’t inform me of the move because there was an uninformed, hostile audience.

The office manager from the new practice was supposed to have notified me.

I waited in the room another 20 minutes and then was told it would be an additional 20 minutes because they were trying to fit me in.

I headed back to the waiting room because sitting in the chair in the chilly, sterile room listening to the buzzing of the equipment, made me feel like dead woman walking.

Time knows no limits when waiting in a doctor’s office…In total, it was another 45 minutes before I was once again summoned.

Now it’s 13 hours since I have ingested food and water and I’m bone dry.

It took an extended period of time and about 20 needle stabs to get the line going.

Finally, I am under and 30 minutes later the deed is done.

I staggered out to reception, paid my thousands of dollars and departed with room to spare on the upper left side of my mouth.

Outside the sun was setting, but my frustration was still alive and well so I decided to walk or float the 3 miles home.

I felt lighter when I arrived, perhaps because I was missing teeth and my body was filled with anesthesia. Whatever the reason, I felt a sense of relief.

Lesson learned…always trust your gut and when possible, game plan a solid defense.