The Smell of Burning Flesh

This a completely useless and disgusting post, but I'm going to share anyway because it's my blog. A few weeks ago at my regular dental checkup, my dentist commented on a very small bump near the tip of my tongue. To me, it looked like just a slightly raised taste bud and I always thought it came from irritation. It had been there for awhile, but I never paid enough attention to see if it came and went when irritated or if it was always visible. My dentist said it was probably a benign fibroma, but recommended I get it checked out anyway.
Last week, I reluctantly went to see the oral surgeon about it and dragged my poor husby with me. I had tried calling before the appointment to see if I could get a best case/ worst case scenario so I could try to anticipate what might happen, but no luck. So, I get in the chair and they start poking and prodding at it. At first, she started saying pretty words like "benign" and "small." I thought I was off the hook until it got bigger or became a problem, but then all of a sudden she says the word "biopsy." I know enough to know that means its coming out of my mouth. I think she knew it would be best not to tell me how they were going to accomplish that mission, because she just starts putting my chair back and telling me it will be over soon. Her assistant puts this q-tip full of nasty pink stuff on my tongue as a topical numb-er. It tasted like crap, but made my tongue feel tickly then numb. I was a fan. Anthony smartly pulls up a chair next to me, but mistakenly gives me his hand to squeeze. I close my eyes and hear her say, "Ok, this is just going to pinch a bit." I gargled a response and almost immediately felt pain in my tongue; though it was just a little pinch, I felt like it lasted 5 minutes! I assumed that was the procedure and it was over, but my husby informed me later that was just the Novocain going in. They did put in a truck load, and even Anthony was surprised my tongue could contain all of it.
But I thought it was over so I opened my eyes and smiled. They keep bustling around and suggest I close my eyes again. I was slightly concerned, but mostly relaxed at that point. All of a sudden, the worst smell I have ever smelt was wafting up my nose and filling the room. I had this really sinking suspicion it was my flesh and accidentally tried to break my husby's hand. I could feel absolutely nothing, but the smell was disconcerting to say the least. Not much later, I felt the assistant swaddle my tongue in gauze and apply pressure. That told me I was bleeding, but at least it had to be over now. I opened my eyes and almost gagged at the sight of all the smoke. They were congratulating me on my brave-ness and giving me gauze in case my tongue kept bleeding once I was gone. Lovely...how was I going to know when I couldn't feel anything? My tongue felt like it had a baseball at the end of it, so I clumsily mumbled my thanks and stumbled out of their office.
Anthony filled in the gaps for me later, but needless to say they had to zap it off. I was so, so glad to be numb and blind for all that and was very glad it was over. I had to take it easy on my tongue for the next couple days (nothing hot or rough or acidic - major hole in my weekend plans), but I survived.
To be clear, I do not think this is a tale of great heroism or braveness and I know I come across as a complete wuss. I just wanted to share that I now know what my flesh smells like when it's burning.