My mouth worked better, before insurance paid for my make-work. IMHO, if there are no discernible, health, or mechanical issues, it's not broken and shouldn't be fixed.
(I wore white shorts and a white shirt to see what would happen.)
I could see all the tools, which were about to be used on me. The doctor told me to count down from 100, but I stopped him before he stuck in the syringe. I asked how long it takes, he said most people don't make it to 97, but someone has gone as long as 86. I counted all the way down. Heard him whisper to add more, in slightly increasing implements, but watch my vitals. I was awake or partially awake through my entire sodium pentathol treatment, while removing healthy, ankylost, and wisdom teeth. The billing statement also included an amnesia inducing drug and a pain killer.
To me, it would make sense, to use the least amount of anesthetic necessary. My family should be so polite as this doctor. But, the numbers he gave me led me to believe I had an unexpected tolerance.
I was not confused, coming out of it, either. I specifically told my family not to worry. I loved them and was not in pain. They acted as though I was foolish. I knew my mouth was packed with wadding, believed they would not understand me, wrote the same thing legibly, was treated as though I was trying too hard. (This is the stock answer for when you're not doing anything wrong, but they still win.)