Wednesday, December 10, 2008

Oral Surgery For My Birthday

LinkI'm slacking again. I'm not even bothering to think of things to write about because the people that I read are coming up with such great stuff for me. For example, my BIL did a posts with twenty-five questions and you post responses based on what your iPod spits out on shuffle. Frickin' hilarious! That's over on Simple Terms.

Tonight I'm writing about my worst dental experience ever because Kat over at Mama's Losin' It is handing out topics and it's an opportunity to shamelessly attempt to drive traffic to my blogs. My wife will likely not be reading the rest of this post due to her aversion to all things teeth, but she was there anyway so on with the story.

I harken back to the date of my birth, several summers ago. It must have been 2003 or 2004 because we just had the one short person at that point and the dining room was still in the front of the house. My former dentist (God rest him) told me when I was eighteen that my wisdom teeth were about to come in but there was plenty of room for them and he didn't recommend having them out.

Well... he was full of shit. They shoved my other chicklets around like drunken slobs in a mosh pit, causing me no end of misery, headaches and leaving my lowers looking like a row of hundred year old tomb stones. Not only was there not enough room for them to come in, but there also wasn't enough room for me to brush them properly. Not even a child's toothbrush could get all around them.

Cavities? HA! I had one go so supremely rotten that he was nearly able to pluck it out with his fingers. That was in 1999. Three years later I had the Hollywood Bowl on the right side and two other major sporting venues on the left. After every meal I would have to pry LARGE chunks of food out of all of them. Huge slabs of tooth would break off like calving icebergs every so often too. It was awesome!

So, it was finally time to get the buggers out. I went in for some x-rays and my new dentist told me I'd have to go see an oral surgeon. Yay. An hour drive provided me with the information that I could not just have them removed, but due to their position and the structure of my jaw it would be full bore surgery and not just some quick work with the tongs.

The only day he could schedule me in was on my BIRTHDAY! Hooooo-rah. I woke up cranky, wan't allowed to have breakfast and drove with The Missus to the surgeon. I sat back in the chair and the guy came in. I was pretty much fuming about having to shell out three weeks pay on my birthday just to get rid of some teeth that seemed to want to leave on their own anyway. He made some typical doctor-type banter and then stuck me with a huge needle.

"This is going to feel like having a few beers" he said.

"Yeah... jusht like" I said, I'm such a lightweight.

"Just like having a couple two, three, fourteen beers." he said.

I remember thinking of a smart ass response but I never got it out. Then the good doctor spent the next hour chiseling on my jaw bone and doing needlepoint on my gums. The next thing I knew I woke up and staggered out of the room. Somebody scrambled around and got me in a wheelchair so I could be properly discharged. At the car I stood up, much to everyone's surprise, and got in the car.

"What... I been way more fupped duck than this before! I went to college!"

I proceeded to giggle like a seventh grade boy the entire hour drive home. It was starting to make The Missus a little paranoid so I decided to pursue the breakfast shake I had brought along.

"You're never going to be able to get that down." The Missus informed me.

"I went to college, remember? I can drink this." I said. And I did, without spilling a single drop.

At home I was ushered into bed with the statement that The Missus would be up to check on me and bring me some Oxys in two hours. I could have cared less because I was so hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiigh. Yeah buddy! Three weeks pay didn't sound like such a raw deal with that stuff coursing through my veins. When The Missus came up to offer me drugs I just took some ibuprofin because really, I went to college and I wasn't quite ready to invite Oxys to the reunion.

I made it through the recovery in good shape and my jaw has never been in such good shape. My only regret is that I couldn't have had them out one at a time so I could have some more of that good juice.

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6 comments:

blueviolet said...

You weren't kidding, your mouth was effed up. I loved this post! Highly entertaining writing. You've got some talent there, Mister!

Julia said...

(grins) I know why The Missus didn't think you would be able to handle the breakfast shake. She told me about her experience with a Wendy's Frosty (I believe) after having her wisdom teeth out. The imagery she provided while telling the story has lasted for years.

Mama Dawg said...

Oh, man. Glad to know you feel better now. I hate dentist.

Pamela said...

Looks like I'll have to tell the Frosty story.

jsprik said...

lol, that's hilarious!! i have never had a cavity **knocks on some wood**

Mama Kat said...

I'm with your wife on this one...I don't even know why I chose that topic. All of these posts are grossing me out. :) On the upside I'm glad your ok NOW!!