Mar
23rd
2021
Cronenberg Mouths · 10:50pm Mar 23rd, 2021
Here’s a list of true events I’ve lived through in the last few weeks—assembled in somewhat chronological order. Keep in mind I wrote this intending it as a comedy, but since it’s an actual abridged chronicle of my life, it reads like a horror story.
I expect nobody will laugh when reading this.
And I find that so unbelievably fucking funny, oh my God.
- The dentist is very nice, very charming, as he tells me to sit down. “Your sister told us that you’re scared of dentists,” he explains. “Is that true?” I nod, say that I’m actively fighting the urge to run away and/or kneel down and cry. Dentist continues. “It’s fine, don’t worry. Nothing bad’s gonna happen to you.”
- I smile, and try to chill. I know, rationally, that I’m perfectly safe, it’s just—y’know, basic childish phobia.
- Dentist keeps talking. “We need to pull out basically all your molars, though. You’ll straight up have no teeth after we’re done. But, like. Don’t be afraid when we do it, it’ll barely hurt.”
- I, uh. I’m. My what? You gotta do what to my teeth?
- “Pull them out.”
- Like, you’re just gonna grab some pliers and pull them out?
- “Bit more complicated, but also, yes.”
- Okay. Okay.
- Okay.
- I’m driven to the hospital because I’m going through either a heart attack or a massive panic attack, can’t fucking tell you which.
- It ain’t even the first time I’m here for that? It’s the third time in two weeks, I live a stressful life. It takes me a bit till I calm down enough that I can talk to the nurse. They check to see if there’s anything wrong with my heart, because my chest hurts so much, and good news! There isn’t!
- So they send me home with a handful of papers that describe my treatment and prescription. It’s two words: “Reduce stress”.
- I look at the doctor and go, okay, but like. I’m studying to be a judge, I spend six days a week memorizing stuff till my brain falls off and I’m still barely keeping up—I can’t just reduce my stress. Also they’re gonna pull out all my teeth.
- Doctor blinks. “Your what?” My teeth. “All of them?” The molars. I’m gonna have to eat food like a fucking hamster. Just, ñañañañaña with my front teeth only.
- “Wow.” The doctor shakes his head. “That’s gonna hurt a lot.”
- Yeah, I say. Yeah. That’s why I’m here. “Right, sure.” So as you can see it’s not like I can just. Reduce my stress. “Mmm-hmm.” Can I get at least some medication? “Well, you said your sister takes antidepressants, right?"
- Yyyyeah.
- "Just steal some of her pills.”
- What.
- Door's over there, bye.
- What. What?
- Fuck.
- Sis, can I take some of your meds. “That sounds WILDLY irresponsible. Are you having another panic attack?” Yeah, doctor just said to “reduce my stress” and that’s it. “Okay, yeah, take some of my meds.”
- That’s day one.
- Second visit to the dentist office. Situation’s not as dire as it seemed at first: I’ll keep the molars on my right side, but I’ll need some heavy surgery, crowning some teeth, and a lot of unpleasant stuff. The left side is lost, though—every molar needs to go.
- The dentist starts with the worst part. Two molars on the upper jaw. He injects the anesthetics, and starts working. The moment the drill starts going “WRRRRRRRRR” next to my mouth, he looks at my chest, going up and down. I’m hyperventilating.
- “Wow,” he says. “I am not dealing with this, and neither are you. Here, have this.”
- And he gives me a prescription for anxiety meds.
- Turns out dentists can do that?
- “Yeah, just take one of these an hour before coming here, and they’ll help you deal with the panic, okay? I swear this isn’t going to hurt. Now let me grab the drill again.”
- WRRRRRRRRRRRR.
- The dentist pulls two teeth at the same time, but he has to break them into little pieces first, while they’re still inside of my mouth. The drill helps, but eventually he has to get the pliers, and they go clack! and the impact reverberates around my skull. I feel my teeth breaking in half inside my gums before he pulls them out. The anesthetics make it so it doesn’t hurt, but I still feel it.
- It takes what feels like hours, and then I get sutures in my mouth and go home. Dentist advises me to reduce my stress levels.
- I have to stop studying for a bit because the shock and the blood loss are teaming up against me. I worry that I’ve lost my rhythm, that I won’t be able to recite my lessons as fast as I used to.
- So soon enough, I get back into the grind. I recite a lesson by memory and time myself to see my average talking speed.
- Seven point five words per second.
- The goal is four words per second. Anything above six is unintelligible. I start to think the doctors have a point when they say I’m a bit too stressed.
- Oh my god, a ray of hope. Okay, so—sutures on the left side of my mouth, yes, but the wound has healed nicely, and I expect they’ll take the stitches out today. Then there’s more teeth to pull, yes, that sucks, but I feel better, I’ve been taking some time off, I am sleeping a reasonable number of hours, and the right side of my mouth is still intact, so at least I can eat if I chew on that side of-
- “Yeah no we’re taking a molar off the right side of your mouth actually.”
- I, uh. What?
- “Sutures are going fine but your gums are still too sensitive, so it’s better if we don’t keep working on that side, it’s too close to the wound. There’s a bad molar on your right side too, though, so let’s deal with it.”
- Wait but. So I’ll just. Have gaping wounds on both sides of my mouth? How the fuck will I eat? I can’t chew!
- “Soup.”
- Soup?
- “Soup.”
- SO I EAT SOUP.
- FOR THE NEXT TWO WEEKS.
- TWO GAPING WOUNDS IN MY MOUTH. MY GUMS ARE A WARZONE.
- EIGHT POINT THREE WORDS PER SECOND ON AVERAGE.
- I CAN SEE THE VISAGE OF GOD, AND THEY LOOK BACK IN FEAR.
- Two more visits, and some sutures go away, some others go in. Some teeth have to be touched on, drilled in a bit—there’s risk of a tooth cracking. The filling is doing weird things in that one, but there’s hope. “Just be careful when chewing, go for soft stuff. If you feel it breaking, call us immediately.”
- I’m not fucking risking it.
- I have like four molars left in my mouth, I’m just not brave enough to try anything. I’m eating soup and very soft rice until the end of time if needed.
- My stomach is completely fucked because of this. My bathroom is also a warzone now. God is laughing. I spit back at their feet. This isn’t over.
- So the next procedure is to put dental crowns on my teeth. To do this, though, first they need to basically sand off the only molars I’ve got left until they’re very very tiny and very very pointy—and then they’ll cover them with fake teeth that’ll look realistic, and those are the crowns themselves.
- So I’m like, c’mon, this can’t be that bad. They had to cut my teeth into pieces while they were still inside my gums before, there’s no way this is more traumatic than that.
- WRRRRRRRRRRR.
- WRRRRRRRRRRR.
- I have forgotten to take the meds before getting to the dentist. I’m fighting against myself not to faint, and my jaw hurts because I’m over-stressing the muscles whenever I open it. But like, I’m fine. I’m fine. It doesn’t hurt. It’s just scary and I can feel the vibrations of the drill but I’m fine. I’m f-
- “Nurse, grab the mirror? Okay, Aragón, I’m going to show you the dental crowns we’re going to put on your mouth next week, so you can compare its color to that of your normal teeth. In case you want it darker or brighter, right?”
- I see my face in the mirror, and my mouth in the mirror. I don’t look at the dental crowns, though, I look at the molars the dental crowns will cover. How tiny they are. How fragile. They’ve been sanded off and they look like tiny sticks, and it dawns on me, these are the last molars I have in my upper jaw.
- And I can’t chew with them anymore. I have no healthy teeth left with which to eat.
- Dentist looks at my face, and goes “Ooookay, nurse, take the mirror away from him before he has a panic attack. This color is fine, right? Aragón?” I blink, look at him, look at the dental crowns. “The color is fine?”
- The color is fine.
- They take the mirror away from me. I squint at the doctor. There are no instruments in my mouth right now, so I can talk. I ask: Is it really that obvious that I’m scared?
- “Never play poker.”
- They’ve taken molds of my teeth before this, and now they’re sending them to the lab to make dental crowns. In the meantime, they’re going to cover the shitty tiny lil molars I’ve got left with a yellowy paste that tastes and smells like custard. It hardens, and from the outside, it’s hard to tell it’s not bone.
- “It shouldn’t fall off,” Dentist explains, tapping them. “It fits you like a glove, and it’s held by friction, so there should be no issue. If anything happens, we still have a copy of the molds, so you can come here and we’ll do this again.”
- Wait, so can I chew with this? “Yes.” I can eat something other than soup? “Yes.”
- Oh my god. I could cry. I go home, and order a pizza. I’m in heaven. I’m in bliss.
- I take a bite of the pizza.
- CRACK.
- I spit out half a tooth.
- Fifteen minutes, two mental breakdowns, and a pill and a half later, my sister looks up from her book. “Say,” she says. “We should really look into getting you a therapist, shouldn’t we?”
- I shriek like a fucking pterodactyl.
- Sis closes her book. “I’m taking that as a yes. The dentist said to call them if anything happened, right? Did you do that?”
- I show her my phone. My dentist doesn’t use phone appointments, you gotta message them. Sister reads the screen.
- Sister frowns.
- “…They left you on read? The dentist that you are paying to fix your teeth left you on read?”
- I shriek like a fucking pterodactyl.
- Good news: it wasn’t a piece of tooth I spit out. It was a tooth-shaped piece of paste; this becomes clear once I clean it up, and rinse the pieces of pizza out of it. I can feel it with my tongue, too—the actual tooth itself is perfectly fine. All hope isn’t lost. That said, the tooth is too tiny and fragile to risk chewing with it.
- Back to soup with me.
- The week goes on.
- Fuck me running, I end up listening to the doctor—and reduce my stress. I skip a day at the judge’s so that I can study some lessons a bit harder. I’m effectively hindering myself a lot, I’m already way behind schedule because of this whole teeth debacle, but I just can’t let reality beat me up like this, or else at one point I’ll break.
- So I take it slow.
- I don’t take any more meds; I’m still terrified I’ll become dependent on them. But I sleep a bit more and stay away from computers and screens and people for a week. I study my lessons much more slowly, taking much more time to absorb everything instead of speedrunning the fuck out of the Civil Code.
- I’m back at five words per second. I’m actually intelligible.
- The judge congratulates me—I’ve been doing badly up till now, which was understandable, but I seem to be back on my feet. Behind schedule, but I’m producing quality work.
- I can’t chew, and my mouth hurts, but I read a couple books, which I hadn’t done in a while, and that feels nice. I start daydreaming about the next comic, which is a good sign, it means I’m relaxed enough to be creative.
- Time for the last visit at the dentist. I walk in, and the woman at the door recognizes me, opens the door without me ringing, calls me by name. I’m just a regular now. Don’t even need to sit in the waiting room, she’s like “My man! Come in, mi casa es su casa! How’s the kids? Did lil Timmy pass his audition?” etc etc.
- “Aragón!” The dentist smiles at me. “Last day! We’re almost done. How are you doing?”
- I laugh, and say, fine, for once. I nod at the chair where I gotta sit, and say, back to my personal gallows, I guess. And then I blink and go wait fuck shit no like—I’m not fine! A tooth fucking broke!
- Dentist raises his eyebrows. “Oh, did it? The paste sometimes does that. Let me see.”
- And he just shoves his hand inside my mouth.
- Grabs my teeth with two fingers.
- Pulls.
- And the teeth come out.
- Now, they’re not my teeth. It’s, obviously, the paste that covers those three molars of mine—but that’s not what my brain thinks. That thing has been sitting in my mouth for a week, they feel like my teeth, they are my teeth as far as my head knows. And I just see someone put his hand in my mouth and pull them out.
- No anaesthetics.
- It doesn’t hurt, but I hear them cracking. I feel the fingers tightening around my fangs and molars, the suction of the paste leaving my mouth. I feel the sudden void where my teeth used to be, and I see the dentist’s hand holding them in front of me.
- And I think, oh, hey. Cool. I just unlocked a new nightmare.
- The dental crowns go in, and that’s when I discover that—I had fillings on some teeth, but it was soft. So the other teeth, the healthy ones that clashed against it grew. They grew, and eroded the filling and everything around it.
- My teeth have been growing and eating each other inside my mouth.
- That’s why everything in there is so fucked.
- This means that the dentist has to polish the lower molars, sand them off a lil bit, so I can close my mouth and have all my teeth fit together. “It’s a thirtieth of a milimeter,” the dentist says as he grabs the polishing tool, which looks exactly like a drill. “But when you’re dealing with mouths, a micron feels like a kilometer.”
- WRRRRRRRRRRRRRR.
- No anaesthetics still. This one hurts a bit.
- I leave the dentist.
- The dental crowns feel off, but I’m assured that’s perfectly normal; my gums will sort of wrap around them and my brain will accept them as actual teeth soon enough. By tomorrow, they’ll feel perfectly fine. Even now, as I write this, they’re kind of comfortable.
- I cooked spaghetti as soon as I made it home. I added sausages and pepper and onion and garlic to the sauce, and it came off really damn good. Soft food, but chewable food.
- And then I grabbed a forkful and chewed on it, nice and slow.
- It was delicious, and nothing hurt.
And, I swear, in that moment, I didn't see the face of God, but God did see my face. And I was smiling, and my teeth were pearly white.
So anyway yeah there won’t be a comic this month, I’ve been kind of busy, you’ll have to wait two or three more weeks for that. Hope you don’t mind.
See ya.
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Aragon · 1,345 views
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#I THREW MY EYEBALLS IN THE BONFIRE
#WE FUCKED ON A BED OF NAILS
#I CAUGHT KURU FROM YOUR SISTER
#AND DIED LAUGHING IN JAIL
#SMELL THOSE SCREAMING TEENAGE SWEETBREADS
#ON THE FOURTH OF JULY GRILL
#SMILE AND WAVE BOYS
#KISS THE COOK
#LIVE LAUGH AND LOVE
#PLEASE PASS THE PILLS
My dentist doesn't actually talk like that, it's just that I wanted to make this a bit more fun to read. Not that far off, to be honest?
I probably got some of the more medical details wrong when it comes to what I got done in my teeth, but I'mma be real with you, people -- I was barely cognizant whenever I was sitting at the dentist's chair, too terrified to really understand what was going on, so. What's in here is what I understood. Hope it doesn't stride too far off reality.
...Jeez—
I keep yelling at him to calm down but it doesn't seem to help
BRB, gonna go floss real quick.
Well, I had to spend a week with my extended family and my phone broke, which was also a miserable experience. But yeah this sounds way, WAY worse.
Well... it sounds like you're on the upswing. Take care.
What a ride. I did laugh, but they were sympathetic laughs. I’m terrified of dentists too.
Quick uhm akshually for yah; antidepressants take weeks to even begin to take effect and require constant use. Those little pills the dentist prescribed to take an hour before are anti-anxiety meds. Benzos, likely.
It doesn’t matter, but I had a compulsion to tell you anyways.
I can see myself using this line later. Thank you for it.
gona be honest with you, I probably would have decked him if he tried to pull out fake teeth from me
5482033
Yes indeed! I take them whenever I have an anxiety/panic attack (doctors have used both terms interchargeably with me; I don't quite know if there's a difference, and if there is, which ones I go through) and the dentist specifically called them anxiety meds, but the pharmacist referred to them as antidepressants, which is why I used that word. Still, yeah, I think 'anxiety meds' is more accurate, so I changed that line.
what the fuck
Reading things like this makes me glad that unlike most of my extended family, I’m like my mom when it comes to felling sick. She and I hate it enough to take what ever bullshit of a treatment we need to get better.
Doc: You need to take this pill that makes everything taste like blood for a week in order to deal with your intestine irritation. Me: well, if that means that I don’t need get up at 4am with diarrhoea, them bring me a glass of water!
Doc: You need to spend 8 hours with your arms up the air while draining the pus out of this abscesses under your armpits.
Me: well bring me my phone because we will be here for a while!
Doc: This brown baby tooth has putrefied but is stook with this other baby tooth so we will have to remove both.
Me: Well doc, what the F are you taking so long to administer the local anesthesia!?
Doc: We are going to remove all 4 of your wisdom teeth before they mess up your mouth more.
Me: Well, I’m going to tell you to fuck off when we are done, but bring it on!
That last 2 are anecdotes of mine, both from the dentist (the roten tooth one is from when I was 5 and other form when I was 16). Luckily I’m not afraid of the dentist as many seen to be, as I said before I got that out of my mom, she and I hate felling sick to the point where we are willing to put up with anything only to feel better.
Also, your docs are right, you need to chill, remember that intestinal irritation I mentioned before? Well I got that because of stress. I haven’t eat most of my favourite food in 2 weeks and most of what I eat tastes like blood (iron), while having to wake up at random hours of the early morning because my stomach said that is time to poop. Believe me, you don’t need that.
... also good to see that you are taking a more comedic approach to all this, that’s a step in the right direction, something that you need because I can’t remember when I saw a judge have a panic attack XD
No but seriously, get some help for that
This got me to laugh, but it was that awkward laugh, with the edge to it that says, "I need to be laughing right now or I will have a mental breakdown."
But the tags got me to laugh real good.
And the ending made me go "awww". :) It's a shame fear of the dentist just means they're going to be in for a serious nightmare because of the avoidance.
As someone who has had four wisdom teeth removed, one while conscious with a local, and three under general anesthesia, I can confidently say that the sound of a tooth being cracked and then the numb feel of it being rocked back and forth by the dentist trying to pull the shards of tooth out of your head, is the stuff of nightmares. Which is why those remaining three teeth were done under general anesthesia. I hope you were happy with your dental care. I suspect your prior fillings were amalgam, which can really screw up your teeth over time. If you feel like you're getting way too many fillings, crowns, etc, do get a second opinion. I had one unscrupulous dentist who was drill happy. If that wasn't bad enough, the fillings he did were bad and had to be replaced by a competent dentist.
Do, you need a hug, man?
I shouldn’t be laughing this hard
Dental apocalypse aside, fantastic song choice. Will Wood rocks.
5482083
Serious answer: Probably.
Sexy answer: Probably ;)
Laughing is an instinctive reaction. Being told it's all real doesn't stop the laughter, it just makes you feel bad about it.
5482063
Sweetbreads are misleadingly named. You're welcome for making you look up what they actually are so that you don't have anybody to blame but yourself.
*** FUCKING NIGHTMARES ***
There are few nightmares as potent as anything to do with teeth.
fwiw, I 100% recommend dental implants. ie, titanium teeth.
A decade or so back, I got my teeth kicked in by a bunch of teenagers. It wasn't fun. In the end only one whole tooth gone, plus bits of others. The dentist first offered me dentures. At, like, 24. Fucking dentures. No. A world of no. So I asked about other options, and opted for a dental implant. It wasn't cheap - something like £1000 for one tooth. And it was certainly freaky AF when they started to HAMMER it into my FUCKING SKULL.
But it's done. It's completely over and done for fucking ever. That piece of titanium is going to survive longer than any bone in my body. In ten thousand years there won't be anything left of me, but that tooth will still be there. That means I will never have to worry about that tooth for as long as I live.
It just occurred to me that, with the end of the world and everything, it's more than a year since I saw a dentist.
Christ almighty. And I thought I had it bad when I had an abcess under a dental implant that hadn't been touched since I was 10.
I don't suppose your dentist grabbed his license in Guantanamo, Cuba, eh?
Huge ups for making it through this shit maintaining the wherewithal to find the humour in it--and even write about it!--after. Thats some slasherflick dentistry right there!
At least there was a happy ending.
I just had my upper wisdom teeth taken out this past December (my bottoms were taken out eighteen years ago during a procedure that was going to include taking out all four, but noooooo, they left the uppers in and I didn't get a chance to have them taken out until NOW because of [*insert massive string of other medical shite here*]—and I have Osteoporosis in my 30s because of all the time I've spent in the past—distant and recent—laying in a hospital bed for weeks if not months on end, so the docs want me on Prolia, which requires that I have any and all dental work done first because it can screw up how the jaw heals apparently? So I was FINALLY allowed to take those fucking uppers out because I have to, instead of it being pushed off over and over and over, when I've been WANTING to get them out for the better part of a decade...), and lemme tell you, chicken noodle soup with literally just noodles and chicken broth is probably one of the blandest things I ever had. Even though that was exactly how I wanted it as a kid, with no veggies, so... Anyway, yeah, the recovery period sucks balls, so I feel that pain. It sucks you had to go through so much other stuff, too. Ugh. That said:
A man after my own heart. This is the best combination of anything ever. Add a little basil and oregano next time, too.
I think that's longest parenthetical I have ever written in anything...
i've had the dentist nightmare but with brains. I had brain surgery for a stroke when I was eight and I was unconscious for it, but I saw a video of a violinist underoing brain surgery, playing a violin. And he was sitting in one of those chairs.
So every time I went to a dentist, I just start panicking over having to play a violin.
I don't even know how to play a violin. I play ukulele and piano.
I thought I grew past it, but now I think the nightmare is just going to be upgraded.
Hope it gets better.
And take care, stay safe.
I admit, i laughed. I laughed multiple times. But I'm glad to hear your teeth have stopped eating each other... hopefully. May your days be fruitful and soupless.
Oh my goodness, I say this as nicely as I can, and with as much love to you as possible, but this blog was horrible. You've been gifted with skills in writing to express yourself to an audience and you have used those skills to write something that made my teeth ache while reading it.
I hope that you are good now.
5482065 When I got my wisdom teeth removed, all of them were with local anesthesia. This does not compare to Aragon, but most recently the dentist had to ask me to brace my own jaw by pushing a clenched fist under it, just so he could push against it much harder. Feeling like you're teaming up with your dentist to play tug-of-war against your lower jaw was very unpleasant.
You poor son of a pinkie
This is all terrifying but that you're able to laugh about it makes me less nervous for you. I really want to share this with people without explaining it's the ramblings of a pony author I follow? But yeah I'll definitely be flossing tonight
The heck happened that needed ALL of your molars removed?
I think you succeeded in making a horrible situation into something humorous. I chuckled several times while reading it. I wish you the best of luck with your judgemental endeavor.
5482012
Have you tried loud, sudden noises to try and get his attention?
As somebody who also has a fear of dentists bad enough to knock me unconscious, and knows I had the start of cavities on all my molars last time I saw a dentist a year ago, this was a fun and relaxing read that didn't leave me screaming internally and with some new nightmares!
....what the actual fuck Aragon.
Also thank you for my new nightmare of TINY SHAVED DOWN VERSIONS OF MY MOLARS, you kind human you.
Grimacing in sympathetic pain right now.
Also, what the hay? I got your explanation about the fillings and growing teeth fucking each other up, but that doesn't seem quite enough to wreck 80% of your molars like that. You been on a Pinkie Pie-grade diet of sugar or something?
I've had surgery to remove my wisdom teeth, and funnily enough, it wasn't all the drilling or cracking that got to me.
It was the freaking water.
The suction tube for draining saliva had slid out a little, so the drill's cooling water was pooling up at the back of my throat. There was soon enough of it to start stimulating my gag reflex, but I kept suppressing it because I didn't want to interrupt the dentist's work. Because, you know... drill. The dentist didn't notice, and the nurse didn't either; the water just kept accumulating until it felt like I had a swimming pool back there.
Eventually I was thinking, shit, is this going to end with me choking and coughing up water in the dentist's face when I finally lose my fight with the gag reflex? Who the fuck drowns at the dentist's? (It never occurred to me that I could just calmly signal to him that I needed a quick time-out to spit.)
Thankfully, the nurse eventually realised what was happening and put the suction tube back in place. Crisis averted.
Also, side note for those suddenly feeling anxious about their teeth: Ask your dentist to show you how to floss properly - preferably by demonstrating on your own teeth so that you know how it feels. (Or look it up on Youtube, whatever).
Chances are that you're doing it wrong or picked up the wrong technique from your parents. My mother did it by pulling the thread through the gap between her teeth like she was sewing that shit, which is next to useless at scraping off all the plaque. I never knew that you're supposed to drag the line across the contours of your teeth, even going down into the gums, until the dentist did it for me.
My dentist stopped finding new cavities with every visit after I learnt to floss properly.
Guess I’m a nobody then because I am laughing at this (and feel like a horrible sh*t because of it but not enough to stop giggling).
D*mn dude, and I thought having a root canal and new crown put on last year (with the temporary one falling off and me having to go back to the dental office in person to raise holy hell because they wanted to postpone the permanent one by a month instead of the next day after the temp was put in because it was the start of the COVID outbreak) was bad!
Good God. I'm glad I don't have dental anxieties, because if I did, just reading this would've broken me. Glad to read that things seem to be improving now, at least. Good luck with the crowns.
i'm not one for laughing at others' misfortune, but good god this was hilarious. and make sure to take it easy! dental and mental health > whatever we got going on in this cesspool of idiocy
Was there no option to be put completely to sleep? When my wisdom teeth were pulled, I was given the option to be awake or not, and I immediately took the not option.
Got some interesting stories from the ordeal...
"Count backwards from 100, and you'll be waking up before you know it."
"Am I supposed to be counting the number of drips of anesthetic going into me arm?"
"Do you need any painkillers?"
"No?"
"Take one now just in case."
-next day-
"Do you need any painkillers?"
"Nope. Doing just fine."
Also got a neat little scar in the roof of my mouth where someone accidentally nicked me during the surgery. Weirdly enough, that nick hurt more than the lost teeth.
Right, so, uh, I noticed the excited looks my hypochondria was getting and how much my teeth were starting to hurt (hopefully they stop soon, I mean, as far as I know there were fine before I started reading this) aaaaand decided that perhaps continuing to the end was inadvisable. So, yeah, uh, sorry for not finishing the story. I'm glad from the few bits I saw of the comments while trying to not read too much of them that other people seemed to get joy from it, though, given that seems to have been the spirit you were posting it with.
And I'm really sorry you had to go through that.
Had a temporary crack on me once. For whatever reason the tooth below was then sensitive enough that even my saliva caused it to hurt. Ended up going the few days by holding the cracked temporary in place by not opening my jaw much.
5482062
Sounds like me, at least with enough motivation. My reaction when the doctor told me that they were gonna shove a laser up my dick was "still better than a kidney stone" (the actual procedure is carried out on happy pills and anesthesia that switches off your legs. The worse part is that in order for it to heal better, they leave a tube between the kidney and the bladder - and two weeks later they yank it out without anesthesia, which I spent cracking jokes with the doctor/screaming in pain).
5482534
Yep, that's why I'm trying to be heathier, it hurts less than going trought treatment
I couldn't stop laughing.
I am lucky in the dental area. Sure, I've needed fillings, but an X-ray revealed that all of my wisdom teeth were aligned, and that my mouth had the space needed for them to stay.
I've recently gotten braces - I was prepared mentally to need them for five years or more, but then I was told that it'd be between a year and a year and a half (obviously 2020 didn't go as planned so I think it'd be a couple of months more). That, and I get to keep all my teeth for it; see, the arch and molars are actually spot-on, it's just my front teeth that are messed up.
Were, for the most part.
My upper teeth only had a couple off, and my bottom teeth are almost there, just need to rotate those last few degrees for the canines and a few incisors on the bottom; to finish off, the teeth need to be brought forward just a tiny bit.
I didn't even need to get anything for my jaw.
* Also, I may be a little weird because I did find a few of those things funny.
Read it to my spouse, and they couldn't stop cackling at you in sympathetic horror.
Forgot to mention this on the first pass, but I already went in knowing that this was the dub version of the scene.
That's horrifying.
Those #tags though...
Your ability to push through trauma with humour is an inspiration.
Christ. My girlfriend is dealing with similar tooth-related horrors herself, and she was crying laughing halfway through me reading this aloud to her. She also cursed me afterward because
...same for her.
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thosearerookienumbers.meme
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Did you then summon a bear to eat them?
( no but seriously if I may ask what the fuck happened?? If you're not completely sick of telling the story although if you were me by now you would just have it in a Google doc you can just copy and paste from
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Brains are fucking wild man. Glad yours was okay. Also hello fellow piano and ukulele player who doesn't know how to play violin!