that smarts

i remember the day greg petrus delivered my second round SAT scores. i cried and cried. it took david letterman to snap me out of the funk a week later when he was introduced as "a man who got 720 on his SATs."

... but i took the test a second time because i was sure i could do better. i didn't have the flu that time, and my brain was more prepared ... right? wrong.

ah, the SAT. just thinking about it makes me feel inadequate. i only bring it up because whether we like it or not, we all have an SAT story and it's usually semi-harrowing at the very least. even if i had combined my scores, i was convinced that i'd never have the opportunity for higher education, especially since i was faced with relying mostly on my extra curricular activities. it's a miracle i got into college at all. thank god my dad worked at the school i selected ... and knew people.

anyway! the SAT is a rite of passage, practically a universality (<-- higher education: english major), and tho (<-- still an english major) it doesn't mean anything ... at all ... for real ... everyone can relate to taking it. everyone has a story. universal human experiences are rare. not all of us are going to get married, attend a billy joel concert, quit our jobs to hike thru the jungle, discover that we have food allergies, ride a mexican glue factory-bound horse named paco, or even hit an air pocket. as fascinated as you are by people who jump off the new river gorge bridge, you'll never take that step. and neither will i. and neither will alicia.

what, then, are we left with ... besides standardized tests? i find that it's a pretty short list: moving, job interviews, blood work, wisdom tooth removal, death, and the presidential fitness awards. or is "running the mile" limited to PA students? the worst part about death has to be that you wind up with a story about it, but never get to tell it. granted, your family, friends, and the newspaper get to tell it, but i think it would be funnier and more engaging coming right straight from you. other people always mess up the details, and no one has your sense of timing. purgatory should have a room with a video camera.

while we might not be able to share our "you'll never believe how i died" story in exactly the way we'd like to, we do have the next best thing, and it begins, "when i got my wisdom teeth out."

ah-ha! the detailed wisdom tooth story that you never think about until someone brings it up first just tackled you from across the room. i saw it. remember how you first became aware of them b/c of the shooting pain in your jaw? yeah, man.

remember the first time your dentist showed you the x-ray and said the word "impacted"? remember the booklet he gave you with the drawing of the bloodless jaw whose gum had been peeled back to expose the tooth that was growing sideways? [note: the booklet today is exactly the same as it was when aaron had his teeth removed and spent three days on the pull-out couch listening to the soundtrack from west side story.]

remember throwing up in the car on the way home? or sleeping for two days straight? or your allergic reaction to the medication?

remember dry sockets, salt water rinses, swollen faces, and the constant taste of blood? i know you do ... because you told me all about it when you found out what i was doing over the weekend.

you scared the crap out of me.

but i'm glad you did. i'm glad i knew all of the dangers and possible complications before i sat in the surgeon's chair. i'm glad they were there to loop and spin faster and faster in my imagination as april 21 drew nearer. it all paid off. by the time i approached the desk to check myself in, my hands were shaking so badly i hardly recognized my own signature. as i was writing it. how often does anyone experience that? ahem ...

when i got my wisdom teeth out, i was sedated. the dr. dymon (irony? destiny?) started the IV and said, "you're going to start feeling sleepy." i said, "ok" and the next thing i knew i had no feeling in my face and i was talking, talking, talking, talking, talking to my mom and a set of scrubs that was leaving not the room i had fallen asleep in. and then i drank water.

as the car sped onto I-64, i swam onto I-64 and proclaimed, "i could have driven this!" then i was watching days of our lives and trying not to chew on the gauze.

and that's really where the excitement ends. there was some bleeding and gauze changing, some TV watching, some almost napping, a little wandering around, drooling, zoey scratching and milkshakes. i apologize to those of you i tried to talk to through the gauze. that was unpleasant for both of us. then, on saturday the antibiotic started making me nauseous and mom bought me ginger ale. the end.

tomorrow afternoon i'll have my follow-up and i'm hoping to be able to eat something more than soup and pasta; tomorrow nite, i'm hoping for pizza hut.

i think from now on, i'll compare my wisdom tooth removal with the first time i watched signs. the suspense practically killed me, but once i saw the monster, there was nothing to worry about. i can't wait to see what happens with my next tooth extraction.

i only have three more pills to take before i can stop feeling seasick, so i went to work today.

"welcome back," ray said in the hallway. "i'm glad you didn't have the experience i did."

"me too." i should have asked what he got on his SATs.