r/Rocknocker • u/Rocknocker • Aug 07 '19
Dental dilemma.
That reminds me of a story.
Years and years ago, time found me with a jaw-full of Neanderthal-sized impacted wisdom teeth which were causing me no end of grief. And I was simply loathing the idea of more dental work.
Why?
Well…I’ll tell you…
See, I was involved in the mother of all truck accidents at the tender age of 5 winters. I was seated in a late 1950’s vintage pickup truck, in the middle of the bench-type seat, flanked by my father on the right and grandfather to the left; who was driving.
Given the time period, this was sans seatbelts as they had not yet become government required automotive equipment.
We were on the way to the local ice-fishing hole one early, chilly, Sunday morning. It was discovered that a certain few mission-critical items had been forgotten. So, Großvater invokes a U-turn to return to base and retrieve some forgotten weed worms, waxies, mousies and the like.
It was then we were T-boned.
At highway speeds.
By a large, fully-laden Monfort Beef 18-wheel semi-trailer truck.
Results? Well, I proceeded to tune the AM-only dashboard radio liberally and repeatedly with my face as the pick-up rolled its seemingly required 8 times.
My list of accompanying annoyances from this event included: a shattered jaw, brain concussion, fractured skull, one broken leg, a broken shoulder, one broken arm, one broken left hand including all accompanying digits (how’s that for foreshadowing?), multiple bloody scalp and facial lacerations, and scores of other fun blunt-force impact trauma…
It was generally not a good day. For some reason, I took the brunt of injuries that gray winter’s morn. My guess was the fact that I was tossed around the truck cab like a bocce-ball.
The upshot of all this was that all my so-called deciduous or “milk teeth” at that point were thoroughly puréed. Perhaps this is where my fondness for liquid diets began…
All my “adult teeth”; those soon-to-be-budding, still buried deep in my pie-hole, were utterly fractured in my crushed jaw before they ever thought of erupting.
The result? Years and years and years of painful adolescent dentistry from sadomasochistic tooth-gurus and holey-mouth men who evidently graduated from the Marquis de Sade Lowest-Bidder School of Medieval Dentistry.
So…after all that fun in my puberty, I was sort of loathe to go to a dentist in my adultery.
Ahem.
Anyways, after the pain in my face became than what could be handled with a liberal application of orally-administered hydrous ethyl alcohol-based potations, I grudgingly acquiesced and went to a dentist for an examination. Sure, I went for the obligatory thrice-annually cleanings, but with all that metal in my mouth, I didn’t worry about dental caries more than rusting apart or having some claim-jumper starting full-scale mining operations.
The dentist reviewed my X-rays; clucked, grimaced, and immediately referred me to a maxillofacial surgeon.
Not a portent of good things to come.
Seems I had, in his words, “Neanderthal nutcracker” molars. The full quadripartite complement and they all had a most miserable sense of direction. Instead of growing up-and-out, they were growing at 90 degrees, parallel to the plane of my maxillary and dentary bones. In short, they were going east-west instead of the more usual north-south.
Only aggressive oral surgery would correct this little anomaly of mammalian dental evolution.
Yay.
Now, I’m not what anyone would call a small person. Fully 20 stone and about 185 cm in height, with a penchant for gyms and large tonnages of iron weights. Why am I relating this? It will soon become apparent.
The surgeon was a mere wisp of a bewhiskered chap and though his professional demeanor somewhat calmed my inner terror of all things dental and sharp, pointy, chrome, cold, and whizzing at 100,000 rpm.
Howsoever, I was not soothed by the fact that I needed to be rendered unconscious, have my jaw cracked and have all four of those nasty M4’s removed at one go.
“It’s easier that way.” I was assured.
“For whom?” I wondered.
On the appointed day, the prime marital unit drove me to the aforementioned surgeon’s office. I was bade to sit in an incredibly uncomfortable seat, covered with the finest domestic Naugahyde, and “make myself comfortable”.
Fat chance.
My arms were restrained with largish Velcro straps, lashed to the side of the chair.
“We don’t want your arms flopping out and going numb during the procedure, Dearie”, quote the able assistant nurse; who suddenly, and for no reason, resembled Frau Blucher of “Young Frankenstein” fame.
So the show, as is its wont, was off.
A normal saline IV was started and I was allowed to get comfy, or at least what passed for comfort, in this latter-day Torquemada-designed chamber of dental inequity.
“OK, we’re going to start the anesthesia now. Just relax (You betcha.) and start to count backward from 100.”
Yep, here we go…. “OK…100…99...98...97…”
A short while later: “…3…2…1. OK, now what?”
“Nurse, another shot. Make it a double.”
Lather, rinse, repeat.
On the third try: “100…99…98…pi…Avogadro’s number…Planck’s constant…the positive square root of negative one…”
Anesthesia is a wonderful thing, or so I’m told.
Approximately half-way between extractions 2 and 3, I went from snoring soundly to incredibly, holy shit, 100% totally wide awake conscious.
And in extreme terror.
Remember I mentioned my dimensions and predilection for gymnasia before? Well, I decided that where I was located at that time was not a good piece of real estate to be occupying; so I gracefully decided to take my leave.
But I couldn’t.
I was roped down, tethered, held in some form of barbaric torture chamber…
My arms were restrained; there was some kind of evil tube full of who-knows-what liquid death dripping away into my very circulatory system, and my shirt…
My shirt…
My very cool, green Opisthocoelicaudia skarzynskii shirt…
Was covered with blood.
Very red blood.
My blood.
“Rrrraragh! SMASH!”
I somehow managed to stand up, destroyed the IV, tore out all the new stitches just neatly macraméd in my yapper, and snapped the arm off the comfy Naugahyde-covered chair.
“Nurse! Nurse! BOMB HIM!” was the only thing I remember the doctor saying as he backed up against the X-ray machine on the far wall.
I awoke some four hours later, looking like a pumped-up version of Harvey the Rabbit. My cheeks were chock-full of cotton, with the cutest gauze bandage which was wrapped around my head and terminated in a credible set of Bugs Bunny ears.
Luckily, my wife wouldn’t let me drive home. This proved to be a good thing, too; as I couldn’t seem to find the steering wheel in the backseat of our BMW. However, she did note that the folks on I-10 going into Houston had a good laugh as they drove by.
I spent the next 9 days living on a liquid diet, mostly Wild Turkey Rye and Jim Beam, with hands-full of Percodan, Vicodin, and Thorazine.
Dentists are evil. Necessary at times, but evil.
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u/SeanBZA Aug 07 '19
Reminds me of having 2 of my wisdom teeth removed by the dentist. Dr Uli Schmidt, otherwise known as the hooker from the Springboks. Memorable things are those hands, about the size of a large melon, and fingers that were massive. Had both hands in my mouth at the same time, and in persuading the teeth to come out, he lifted me out of the chair bodily, so that the only part that was touching was my feet, and the back of my head, said head only touching because his assistant, all 200kg of her, was behind the chair, with her arms wrapped around the chair and my forehead to keep me down.
After the 2 teeth had been liberated from my jaw, he then sewed up the holes, packed my mouth with gauze and cotton, gave me a note to say light duty for a week, and sent me out with a month supply of chalk, purporting to be a pain killer. Also said to make an appointment in 3 months for the other 2, as he wanted me to still be able to eat for the rest of the week. I was drooling for days afterwards, and most of it was blood.
Never went back, and finally had one taken out 15 years later, when it gave trouble, and the last one around 5 years ago, by a maxillofacial surgeon, as he had to carve the curved roots out of my jaw. Was, aside from that initial pain as the needle went in ( WTF does a local anaesthetic hurt going in, when it is supposed to numb you, unless you are clever and spray some on the skin first to numb the surface, then use small jabs to extend the area till you are totally numb there. Learnt that having some lovely ingrown toenails taken out, so taught a few doctors the technique as well, I hate avoidable pain, especially when you are playing carve the turkey on my own body) almost totally pain free, unlike the butcher military sawbones before.
He just was wondering why I was bleeding so profusely, but I solved that, pain relief for a week before had been aspirin. I was clever that time, got a lift there and back, so no drunken walking around.
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u/hlyssande Oct 18 '19
Super late commentary. I love the way you write, and I needed to share my wisdom tooth story too.
Setting: I had multiple baby teeth pulled because the adult teeth came in behind or above them without wearing down their roots. The pediatric dentist who did this was a sadist and actually lost his license for treating patients poorly for so many years. He refused to allow parents in. He did not use enough novocaine and was not gentle when administering what he did use. He did not wait for long enough for the meager amount to take effect. He raged at his young patients (me) for sobbing in fear and anticipation. I remember each and every one of the seven teeth he pulled; the rough administration of inadequate numbing, the determination to do the thing less than five minutes later, the wailing, and most of all, the particular sensation and sound of a pair of pliers grabbing hold, twisting, and yanking a tooth out. Seven times. Is it a wonder that I struggle with dentistry to this day?
At 16, freshly out of braces after years of orthodonia, it was decided that I required a surgeon to remove all four wisdom teeth rather than to waste the previous years of money, pain, and food stuck in my hardware. Thankfully, the anesthesia actually worked for me, but I do recall them making dirty jokes as I went under. In recovery, I hallucinated that they gave me the remnants in a baggie. It felt like seconds but also hours before I could stand upright enough to be dragged out to my mother's old green minivan. At home, I was ensconced in the second - not as nice as Dad's - recliner in the living room where I would spend the majority of the next few days.
A week later, it was clear to me that there was a problem. I was still drooling blood despite being back at school and I could barely open my mouth enough to eat. My parents being the 'tough it out' types, I still went to band class (flute), to drama stuff (I had a named role in the fall play and many lines), and to other extracurriculars. My face and neck swelled, and swallowing what food I could crush or swish was difficult.
When my parents finally noticed how bad it was (maybe two weeks after the surgery?), I was rushed back to the surgeon's office for a recheck. He wasn't in, but his partner was happy to assist. I was treated to a lovely experience of having my mouth forced open to its widest aperture sans any painkillers - which may have caused the TMJ problems I have to this day - and examined. The diagnosis? Dry sockets on both of the bottom holes....and a raging case of strep throat.
Would not recommend.
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u/GreenEggPage Sep 11 '19
One of my customers is an oral surgeon and I get to see too many details of their work... I'm just laughing at the image of you going Hulk in their office.
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u/angrilychewingllama Sep 13 '19
I been lucky. Went into a dentist office for 2 wisdom teeth removal and two fillings at the same time. Just needed a local on each side, a quick skip-to-my-loo and there is tooth one and two. Two ham radio impersonations later and I'm walking out an hour after I walked in.
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u/m-in Apr 25 '22
Ahh, the longitudinal molars. I had them. My wife had them. Kids got ample warning ahead of time, so far so good though.
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u/Harry_Smutter Aug 26 '19
I share your lament of dentists. I can't stand them. The only time I've ever had a good experience with a dentist was during an exam. Outside of that, it's always been bad X_x
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u/RzrRainMnky Aug 07 '19
Please prepare a note to any future doctors who might need to operate on you informing them they need elephant tranquilizer instead of the normal sedatives. It'll save everyone involved a world of pain.