Just When You Thought The Dentist Couldn’t Get Scarier

It’s December, and I’ve had to book time off for dental surgery. Normally, the recovery is two or three days, but due to the delightful combo of a tiny mouth, nerves that are about 30% larger than normal, and roots that are 50% longer than normal (which puts the root tips essentially touching the facial nerve along the jawline), the surgeon told me to plan to be out a week minimum.

I’m nervous about dentists anyway, so I am on edge before they even start. Thankfully, they knock me out for it, so I am only vaguely aware at the very end when they are putting the last stitches in.

They move me to a recovery room so I can wake up a bit before going home, and I get a text from my boss. Keep in mind, I’m loopy as heck still.

Boss: “Hey, just to let you know, I’ve calculated the year-end bonuses. It will be added to your final paycheck.”

In my drugged state, I think I have just been fired, and just before Christmas! I panic, of course, and my brain starts going on wild tangents about me not being able to pay my bills, losing my house, etc.

I look at my phone again, and only then do I see the text my boss sent immediately after the first one.

Boss: “You will also be getting a raise, so you will see that on your first January paycheck.”

At the time, all I felt was relief. But once the sedation wore off, I found it hilarious. I told the company VP about it, and he laughed and told me I would never be fired because I know how to do so many aspects of everything in the office besides selling policies and that the office wouldn’t be able to function without me.

It’s definitely nice to be appreciated, but good lord, that’s a lot of pressure!