J figured I was recovered enough from my "nearly lethal dose of stupid" (as he told Shoeshine today) on Wednesday that he could laugh at how silly I was. It wasn't that bad though, just several -ok, many- times I asked him how long he had been sitting with me, etc. I was awake enough to tell the helpful nurse that she wouldn't be able to zip my coat, and I was right. There's a trick to it and I did it just fine, thank you very much. I don't remember walking out to the car afterwards, though.
Given a choice (and I was) I'll take sleeping through a dental procedure, although I do hate not being in control of myself. Which is why I don't drink often, or much when I do. And probably why I don't dance very well. I realize that my perception that others notice/care what I do is blown way out of proportion (hello, social anxiety) but I like to stay below the radar. J has a more 'normal' and dare I say, healthy, attitude about public opinion and it's too bad that our offspring didn't get a bigger dip in his gene pool there.
No matter, that's over and done with little pain and no embarrassment. As I walked in I did see a young man earnestly telling his companion "that Dr. is really nice, really". At least at the dentist, there's a good chance that your mouth will be full of gauze so that cuts down on the chances of saying something too silly.
I like to remind J of the time he was waiting to go home after a procedure in the hospital and the nurse came in to check on him. She told us he was free to go, whereupon J flung back his sheet, ready to leave. We convinced him that he really should leave wearing the same amount of clothing that he'd come in with. With that as my standard, I'm very happy with my post-op behavior so far.