He is an absolute trip coming out of anesthesia.
He's never had a good experience getting an IV put in his arm. It always hurts badly, and he stays still by nearly ripping the arm off from the other side of the seat.
This time he experienced something doubly new.
It didn't hurt at ALL getting the IV in, and it was the surgeon, himself, who put it in.
"He walked in and put this thing on my arm (pointing at the stability cage still on his arm), and wrapped the band around my arm, and told me to make a fist.
I looked away and squeezed the arm of the seat, and a second later he said 'You can unclench your fist,' and I thought, 'Well that's odd. They don't say that until they're finished.' And I looked over, and sure enough, it was IN. I didn't even feel it."
That was the story. Word for word. I know. I heard it like... ten times.
He'd lean his head back, and close his eyes for just a few seconds. Then he'd turn and look at me and say, "How long was I in there?"
"Forty five minutes, babe."
"That's not too long. Yunno... HE put my IV in.... (insert above story)."
And the first five or six times, I was trying to listen to his drugged, slurred speech, as it made its way around a mouthful of gauze.
THEN the surgeon comes in.
Tells me it went well, and that he was able to get three quarters of the tooth out, but that the roots were healthy looking, and imbedded pretty deep into the bone, so they should stay put, and be fine, and not cause a problem in the future.
Then he asks Mister how he's feeling.
"I feel fiiiiiiine. You did a great job. You're a really good doctor. I'd recommend you to everyone I know. I wish I could grow all my teeth back in JUST so I could come here, and have YOU take care of it all for me."
Seriously. He said this with a big, lopsided, numb smile on his face, through bloody gauze, with his eyes more glazed than a donut.
I grinned and said, "Betcha don't hear THAT everyday."
Mister has absolutely no recollection of anything that happened inside the building. He remembers being in the parking lot, walking toward the van.
Must be something about the fresh, cold air.
Oddly, when he recounted the story to me several hours later, it was the same overall, but he told it completely different.