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Six Degrees – Jack Nicholson & Root Canals

I’ve had one before, and my previous experience was not what I had heard about the terrifying ‘root canal’. It was a breeze, really. That was last time, though. Holy Mother of all That is Evil this time…

I wake up, I stretch another glorious day. Joke’s over when someone cracked me in the face with an invisible shovel not 4 seconds later. ‘What da…? Hohh… Son ub a… Whoa, niss iz bad, niss iz weely bahad’. I’m half blinded, partly feeling my way to the bathroom, wondering why I was allowed those 4 seconds to think everything was ok… I get to the mirror to open my mouth because surely a bus had parked in it while I slept. But there’s nothing to see except my teeth - no gateway to hell, Satan himself, nothing. I figured I should have been mid-metamorphosis at the very least, but there I was – normal-looking. It couldn’t be right…

I’m able to get in to my Dentist at 2 pm. It was 8 am, I had called them at 7:59 and let the phone ring until they opened, ok? My little tooth numbing cream might as well have been straight glucose by then, I used it to bring exceptional pain so that when it wore off, the excruciating pain felt like relief, I really have no idea how I made it through those additional six hours of, basically, torture. I very seriously considered Tom Hanks in ‘Castaway’, except I had Vice-Grips. I’m not kidding. I’ve never come so close to crying just from physical pain since I was a kid. I even tried to force a little cry, just so I could say I did and make this sound worse, but it didn’t happen, sorry…

I get to the dentist at 1:55, hoping for a miracle.
‘Hi there.’ A new, chipper, receptionist starts in at me. I felt like Jack Nicholson in the ‘Witches of Eastwick’ after the voodoo doll incident… I gave her my name using my human voice. ‘Ah, I see’ she says, looking at her computer screen ‘You have a toothache.’ like it was f**king cotton candy…
‘Pfff.’ I released a tiny bit of evil into the room without killing anyone, even maintained a small smile. ‘Sure.’ I just did marathon torture in a Vietnamese prison camp somewhere for 9 hours, not sure how I got here, but a pink toothache sums it up about right, you pleasant happy-toothed bitch… ‘I’m sorry?’
‘Just have a seat.’
‘Thanks, Wendy.’

Of course the new dental assistant had to be cute, around my age, with great gluteul gambol in those hygienist pants… Plus, I couldn’t brush my teeth properly, I hadn’t eaten in 9 hours… Just another wee bit o’ salt in the wounds, no…? Have you ever seen Jack Nicholson try to fix his hair after he’s mussed it up? It doesn’t work, it’s just creepy. Then that smiley-faced carnival-cruiser was throwing a parade over an impacted molar at the front desk nearby, now in my 9th hour of torture… I didn’t think I was going to be able to maintain human form…

I usually require ‘extra’ or ‘maximum’ strength when I decide to take something for a headache that’s bad enough. I was prescribed T3’s for my back injury many years ago, but they didn’t do squat. I can’t remember what they put me on after that, but it worked. I explained this to my dentist, told him I didn’t even want to find out T3’s didn’t work, end up killing his receptionist. He gave me a prescription for Oxycocet, a narcotic, and another rx for an antibiotic to clear up the infection inside my tooth, which only X-rays and swollen backside gums revealed. PMF isn’t a fan of pills or narcotics, munchkins…

As I’m on the merry-go-round at the front desk again, dying to run over to the pharmacy next door so I can just get some f**king narcotics into me, Wendy effing Windmill’s tells me, with a straight face too, that the dentist charges $30 to tap 3 of my teeth because I couldn’t tell him exactly which tooth I thought was bothering me on account of the plane that crashed on my face…

David Banner did call, but I decided against getting angry, right? She wouldn’t like me when I’m angry, it’s not her fault, and it’s only because I wanted to kill anyone that had the audacity to go on with their lives while I was in that much pain, that I found her pleasantness infuriating. But had I known, I could have given myself a tap beforehand, told him which tooth was culprit after my shrill trip to hell and back, without having the cute dental assistant to witness my instinctive watering eyes and my unknowingly being robbed to boot… Dentist = Sadist…? It’s close enough, I’m going with it today…

I’m allowed to take 1 or 2 pills every 4 hours as needed. I tried to start with 1. I would have cut it in half, but it would just crumble. I figured out within a few hours that I was going to need 2 pills every 4 hours, majorly needed. Then I started feeling pretty nauseas, eventually throwing up, as the side effects sheet warned could happen. Nice.

I tried to have some bland soup to calm my stomach, it looked exactly the same afterward, just a bigger bowl. Not sure why my body waited until I got all of it down, to send it all back up, but it did. Maybe, at this point, it was just another psych and so I could have a bigger splash to clean up after… Woe is me for real. Jack Nicholson in ‘the Shining’ was a Cottonelle kitten to me now, alright? I’m not gonna hurt ya, Wendy, nah… I’m just gonna bash yer f**kin’ brains in…

I got myself some Mary Jane. Voila. I’m eating, but I’m now on a heavy-duty narcotic + 2 pharmacist-approved non-prescription Motrin IB’s to extend the life of each pain reliever so I take less narcotic, then a ‘can of bis’ chaser so I can eat and rope ‘er all down… (Well that was fun for maybe 3 in present company…) I was Jack Nicholson in ‘As Good as it Gets’. (there we go)

Toothache my eye. This is war. A pretty happy war that I feel I’m now winning, mind you, but I take back anything I’ve ever said about people who complained about the root canal process like it was the end of the world. Complain away, until your heart’s content. Glad it’s the weekend, and that I can still apologize while telling everyone about it without moving my lips… Watch, I’ll even take a sip of milk…

Woot, woooot

Curse for arthritis next time, munchkins… *Facepalm*

EDIT: One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest. Can’t believe I forgot that one… And whoa, narcotics are bad, mmmkay… PMF feels much better today, thanks.

:peace

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Middleground

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I can't relate, PMF, as my teeth are pretty much perfect, but like you, I have had some terrible back pain (if compatible, I can bet that the pain was downright awful). I remember many years back a roomate had her wisdom teeth removed and her dentists botched something. She was in so much pain, I had to score some weed for her. It was the only thing that helped with the pain.
 

Pull My Finger

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Root canal accomplished, July 13, 2011. Piece of cake, I was out before my hair dried from the shower I had taken just before. A frozen mouth will suck all the coolness out of having a cigarette, I can report that much… Also, Wendy Windmills is not a bitch, she is a very nice lady…

Middleground;bt983 said:
I can't relate, PMF, as my teeth are pretty much perfect, but like you, I have had some terrible back pain (if compatible, I can bet that the pain was downright awful). I remember many years back a roomate had her wisdom teeth removed and her dentists botched something. She was in so much pain, I had to score some weed for her. It was the only thing that helped with the pain.
MG, you’re a good friend for that, but even the pot didn’t help the pain much for this, just cured the nausea from the narcotics, which is still a ‘+’ in my columns. All better now though. Once the infection (a tiny black dot on an x-ray) died down (still a tiny black dot on an x-ray), my face, and life, felt normal again.

IMO, root canals are nothing, it’s the black dot’s you have to watch out for. I wouldn’t trust other color dot’s either for now, but I don’t have proof of this yet.

Peace
 
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