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Modern Dentistry, Lovecraftian Horror, and Squirrels


MasterPain

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A couple months ago, I had a piece of a wisdom tooth break off, soon afterward it began to hurt. Being an old bibliophile who has spent untold hours poring over ancient tomes of forgotten knowledge (in this case Chippy Goes To The Dentist http://www.amazon.com/Chippy-goes-Dentist-Happy-Ending/dp/B001B4KKJA ) I knew that dentists are nothing to fear. So I made an appointment to see if I could get it pulled.

My dentist ( a short and petite, good-natured lady with an accent I assume she picked up on the Isle of Misfit Toys) took an X-ray and said that it was a wicked 3 rooted abomination that she wouldn't touch with Yukon Jack's pickax and it was infected. So she gave me a prescription for an antibiotic and a referral to an oral surgeon. 3 weeks and a lot of pain later, I went to see if I could get it removed.

I freely admit that I am a wimpy mama's boy who is afraid of everything. While Chippy the squirrel taught me not to fear dentists ( get the book for your kids, it's good) I consider oral surgeons to be some sort of white-clad Eldritch horrors. Anyway, I go to the office, fill out the form to say I have no known allergies, I brush religiously and floss agnosticly, and drink moderately. After a while, they call my name and I am lead to a small room and sat in the Recliner of Despair. I am then given the I Won't Sue If You Kill Me Form to sign. The nurse, who I had come to think of as Nyarlathotep (who knew the Crawling Chaos was a pretty little blonde woman?) explained that it was actually a Waiver of Consent to Pull a Tooth Saying I Understood Certain Risks....... "Semantics, semantics." I said. Nyarlathotep was not amused. I signed and then she hooked me up to the machine that goes "Bing!". When I excitedly pointed out that it was the machine that goes "Bing!", she gave me a blank stare. I tried to explain that it goes "Bing!" and is very expensive, but she just looked even more confused. This did little to ease my suspicion that I was dealing with denizens of some dark cyclopean abyss that has not been penetrated by the light and truth of Monty Python and the Meaning of Life. I fully intend to start going door to door asking people if they have a few minutes to talk about John Cleese. So the doctor came in and stabbed my gums and the roof of my mouth with the Stabby Instrument of Doom, looked at the machine that goes "Bing!" and asked if I was nervous. I looked at it and realized that my pulse and blood pressure were unusually high. I told him I was a bit nervous, having never had an adult tooth pulled. He told me to relax and try not to pee my pants like the guy did earlier.... Dr. Nutkins never said such a thing to our old pal Chippy. They then left me for a bit, letting the drug from the Stabby Instrument of Doom take effect before returning with the Grabby Yanky Instrument of Doom. I used the time to calm my nerves using Grossman's tactical breathing method, and had brought my pulse back to normal when they returned. The shined the light down my mouth, messed around in there for a bit, then announced that they were done. I hadn't even known that he pulled it. I was so happy I almost yelled "Ia Ia Cthulu Ftagn" but I was unsure how to pronounce Ftagn, so I settled for "Thanks." They then made a very painful extraction from my bank account.

In all seriousness, I've missed a couple months training, a tournament and a seminar due to the fact that it hurt to touch my face. I am happy to be able to train again.

My fists bleed death. -Akuma

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:lol: Great post!

There's something really barbaric about dentistry..

I almost asked for a haircut and leeching, but I'd already shaved my head earlier.

My fists bleed death. -Akuma

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Yeah, definitely glad to be done with it. I've been lucky and cautious enough to have had very few injuries over the years. About the worst was cracked ribs. I'd take that over a toothache any day.

My fists bleed death. -Akuma

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