Little Green Giraffe on Flickr

I went in for my six-month dentist cleaning and checkup today. It went as smoothly as it usually does. No cavities. No gum problems. Nothing except for this one huge thing: wisdom teeth.

Last year, my dentist and an oral surgeon confirmed that my wisdom teeth were coming in and needed to be removed or my current smile would be scrunched together in a painful fashion. Not to mention the risk of infection and increased gum disease. But I kept putting it off. I told myself that I'd do it over Christmas break. Yet Christmas break came and I hadn't made any appointment.

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The things I remember most about this morning's surgery: I seemed like a diabetes marvel with all my gadgets and I was a little shocked that the procedure was expected to take about an hour (thought it would be much shorter).

Seriously, I can't tell you how many times this morning I heard "Hey, come look at this!" after I had explained Dexcom to a medical professional. It was actually pretty cool to be able to explain Dex to a bunch of doctors and nurses.

The best part, though, was when the anesthesiologist came in and we were discussing my blood sugar and where it was (over 250 mg/dL) and where he wanted it (around 150 mg/dL). He told me his brother had just been diagnosed with diabetes and had just gotten a pump. He was pretty sure it was Minimed and was surprised that his brother had been diagnosed with type 1 as an adult. "I was 30," I told him.

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I don't like to post "downers" on Blogabetes unless I can turn them into cautionary morals, or calls to action (either on our own behalf, or on the behalf of all people with diabetes) -- most of us have too much negativity in our lives already. That said, life has been throwing me the sorts of curve balls that force me to think more of survival, mortality, and quality of life than I am comfortable dealing with.

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