Surprise attack.

Warning: Don't read this if you have a weak stomach.
Well, it's not really THAT bad, but it is making ME sick.

I was hanging out minding my own business, eating nacho chips, when my tooth launched a surprise attack.

I have the world's worst teeth in the first place. The back ones are all falling apart. All of my efforts are concentrated on keeping the front teeth in my head and stable. Gram -- the same gram I was talking about previously --had all of her teeth pulled when she was still quite young, and went right to dentures. She didn't recommend it, but I totally understand it.

So when the tooth broke, again, I ended up calling the dentist. I knew what was going to have to happen.

I've already had tons of drilling, then a root canal, and a crown, which didn't work after a few years. I had been going with the "wait and see" approach for the last few years. I was waiting to see how long the little stump that had been left under the crown could hang in there for. It lasted a good few years. So that means I have two down, and one more stump to go. You KNOW that last bad tooth will be coming out one of these days soon.

So I called the dentist. The receptionist knows me already, and suggested I just go right ahead and make an appointment with the oral surgeon.

 

Nice guy, that oral surgeon. But he's getting older, and his hand shakes alot. I wasn't sure at first -- when he stabbed me with the needle to numb it, I kinda figured he had to shake to make sure the novocaine was squirted all over in my gums.



After he had the pliers in his hand, and wrenched with all of his might, I think he got a bit weaker in the arm. It took a bit of strength to get that bugger out of there. He yanked, and pulled, and struggled and strained. Finally, with a grinding noise and a great screech (could that have been me? Or him? Or the tooth?) he yanked it out of my head.

(I practiced breathing, and I listened to my ipod -- Eddie Vedder's Into the Wild album.) (I kept adjusting the volume so I could hear him. That man was SO polite, I almost think he was making fun of me. It was "Thank you so much" this, "Oh, please excuse me" that. I didn't want him talking, I wanted to concentrate on Eddie.)

The crater is so big that he had to stitch me up. Lovely. That was when I could REALLY tell his hand was shaking.

He packed the gauze in there, and prescribed some lovely pain killers and tons of antibiotics. I can't take the pain killers, though, because I want to go out tonight. I plan on going to see the play.

More about the play tomorrow -- if I make it.