Last Wednesday I had to go to the dentist to have my wisdom teeth removed. About an hour before the appointment I took the sedative the Dr. (snort- dr. *eyes rolling* I know, but they like to be called that) had prescribed and at some point The Man talked me into getting in the car and before I knew it I was in the cushy chaise lounge style chair, wearing giant dorky sunglasses while they put another crushed up sedative under my tongue.
As I lay there, enjoying my near out of body experience and wondering if the stink coming from the hole in the hose over my nose was really doing anything it occurred to me; I could totally have done this myself!
Seriously, the dental industry is a racket, people! Think about it! It's insane. They have convinced people to march in there every six months and let them scrape our teeth with a metal hook. Like I can't get my own metal hook. We’re so busy being grateful they allow us a tiny vacuum to collect our accumulating spit we don’t think about how crazy it is! Then we allow them to drape a fifty pound vest over us and take x-rays that only reveal….. the metal hook isn't working; we have cavities!
At my last cleaning they sent this perky dental assistant in to school me on the disgusting world of bacteria lurking in our mouths. She took a sample from my mouth and excitedly leaned over a microscope for twenty minutes only to sigh and say "Sorry, there's usually some really nasty creatures but I can't find any on your slide." I tried to hide my relief, to avoid hurting her feelings and pretended I had been hoping for some real beasties in there. I've always been a nervous tester. She assured me that when I brought my kids in for their appointments there was sure to be hoards of bacteria on their teeth and it would be a great show. Get back here, I know that's disgusting that's my point people! And I'm not finished telling you about my "surgery".
So while they removed my smart molars I figured out, (the hippies were right drugs do expand your mind) the only thing that keeps us going to a dentist for this sort of procedure is the drugs. If you could get the drugs and do it in the privacy and comfort of your own home you would. Well not you, when I say you I mean me….. Or I…. whatever the sentence calls for.
And when I say me or I, I mean The Man. This is how I would do it: I would take the first sedative and then The Man would crush the second one up with our oh-so-trendy pepper grinder. Once I was comfortably resting on the couch, he would place it under my tongue and put his tinted safety glasses from work on me. I'm sure chip clips would keep a paper towel around my neck, they manage to keep the chips crispy. As I mentioned above, I'm pretty sure the funny gas tube wasn't doing anything for me but stinking so we could cut a hole in the hose attachment on the vacuum and that would provide the odor. Actually our odor might actually knock me all the way out. Then he would put the shots in with those handy shot shooter things they use now. Finally, he would use some kind of metal object (I couldn't exactly make it out, that's why they put the glasses on you, to keep you from realizing it's a pair of pliers!) to pluck the teeth from my jaw. One of my wisdom teeth gave my dentist some trouble. It had grown in sideways so he used a little saw to cut it in half before plucking it out. I think the awesome dremel kit that The Man gave me will come in handy for those kinds of situations. Finally, The Man would stitch me up and give me vicodin before the shot shooter wore off.
It's really that simple, folks. Maybe the problem with the health system isn't insurance, it's lack of a can-do attitude. I wish I had pictures to share but none of my family members were thoughtful enough to take pictures of what I thought might be my last moments. Your loss., my gain? Oh and this blog would be tongue in cheek except I'm still a little nervous about exploring my mouth too closely. Who knows what those crazy SOBs did to me.
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My sisters original comment was worth including:
“You are so convinced that the gastruous odor wasn't working. Let's refresh your memory: You, fumbling around face in a panic yelling, "what's this? what is this? WHAT IS THIS?!?" Us, trying to hide our snickers, "umm, Dew(ed). That's your lip."
Posted by Mellow(d) on Tuesday, August 14, 2007 - 3:54 PM
August 2007
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