Riverdancing Kamikaze Ninja Goat Mutant Troll Gnomes

That just LOOKS evil

There are 4 pains in this world that turn me into mega wimp. Pains that send me to my knees and turn me into the kind of bitch you avoid in dark alleys. Yeah, THOSE kinds of pains. I've handled bruises, breaks and cuts with minor complaining, compared to these pains. My alien takes the top of the list. When he starts chewing on my insides I'm nothing but a snotty, slobbery, squalling mess. The rest are at a tie. I don't do burns, earaches or TOOTHACHES very well at all. I get pissy with a capital P. Bet you can guess which one I currently have, can't you?

For the past few days there's been a slow throb building in the left, upper corner (back molar) that grew to a head splitting throb in the night. I had the typical injury filled night for me. Meaning that during my last (yeah right, last) trip to the bathroom before bed, I was startled by a flash of light, spun around and cracked my shin on the toilet. The Hub heard it from across the house. I now have a goosegg with a big bruise on my shin. He (the Hub), in his sleep, drove his knee into my back, so the muscle there has yet to stop with the spasms and feels a lot like a major kidney infection. Those little hurts should have been enough alone. But, ohhhhh no. I forgot all about them thanks to throb o'matic in my mouth. I'm a cranky little cuss. You wouldn't like me. But, c'mon, are you really any different? Don't tell me any of you enjoy tooth pain? If that were true no dentist would earn a dime. I'm kind of liking that thought. Wouldn't that be nice? I'd love to see just one telethon aimed at saving starving dentists all over the world! *Evil Laugh*  But, alas! I'm gonna have to go see one of those greedy tooth thieves sooner than I'd like.  

Poor ninja goat doesn't know what he did wrong

The last time I had a rear molar blow out like this one has, I drove the poor Hub insane. I begged him to pull it for me. When he got the pliers, just to call my bluff, of course, it backfired on him. That was the moment he knew I was serious. I see that awful tool in his hand and, instead of freaking out, I leaned back and opened my mouth. You should have seen the look of shock on his face. I Was. Not. Playing. Get this riverdancing kamikaze Ninja goat mutant troll gnome out of my mouth!  Next stop? The evil tooth-pulling horror movie villain in disguise. The dentist. My old nemesis. I've had some really bad experiences with teeth yankers. I'm not a fan.

For many years I was at war with my lower right wisdom tooth. When I say war, I mean red, throbbing, can't push through so it's permanently in a state of abscess, world war two hundred and ten happening in my head, can't stop bawling and haven't slept for days at a time WAR. My mother takes out a loan to get me into the dentist. A loan. Yes, we had to get a loan. That's pretty bad. Damn thing was expensive! So, anyway, I get into a local dentist and that's when we learned that for one thing, I'd have to find another dentist to do it. Complete boney. For those terrible tooth novices (lucky a*holes with perfect teeth who I envy and would like to drive a sledge hammer into your grill, people), a complete boney means that the root is driven so deeply into your jaw bone that surgery will be required to extract the damn thing. Extract. A polite way of saying "ripped from your head". So we start making calls to locate a dentist to do the work. After many, many, MANY calls, we find one in Houston. That's when the need for a loan came up. This was gonna cost thousands! *sigh* I get there and am almost immediately dragged into the back. The dentist comes in and says he's going to give me Novocaine, the sweet nectar of tooth pain survival. I'm all for that. The needle hurts like hell, but even through that pain I did register that he only gave me ONE shot. Then he says he needs to just take a quick peek. I open wide. He picks up what I can only describe as a cross between a metal severed parrots beak and gardening sheers, shoves them into my mouth (where, by the way, it did NOT fit) and yells for help. Why did he yell for help? Why, because I realized right away that he was about to do something universally stupid, and I protested. Wildly. Several bruised nurses and a jaw punched dentist moments later, he's holding my tooth. My tooth that was as wide as my thumb is, from tip to first knuckle, with roots over an inch long. Yes, I kicked the nurses. A lot. And in the face when the opportunity presented itself, which it did more than once. And, yes, I punched his stupid ass. He made my jaw hurt. Fair is fair. Oh, but, not only did he make my jaw hurt, he BROKE IT! IN TWO FRIGGIN' PLACES!!! ASS...HOLE! It was supposed to be surgery. No, no, no he didn't feel like taking that kind of time, so this eff wit, RIPS the roots right out of the bone. O.O  Did they lower the cost because of this snafu? Did they offer medical care for the breaks? Noooooooooo. They were paid in advance. So, why should they. I'm sweaty, bloody, pissed off, snotty and crying now, and just want the hell out of there. On the plus side, since not one dentist in this revolving door for dentists building is paying a bit of attention, I did manage to walk out of there with 3 prescriptions for pain. Which, by the way, is the first stop I demand we make. Oh blessed pharmacy, how I loved thee on that day. My ride said he could hear me screaming from the lobby. Ya think? Now, we get home, I sit down on the couch, and Spawn number 3 (aka Ashley) sits in front of me. At this point in her development she had a new favorite game. Slam herself backwards, hard, against who or whatever was behind her. You can see where this is going, can't you? Mmmmhm. She slammed her little melon head into my freshly broken jaw. I handed her to my mother, as carefully as I could (since all I really wanted to do was throw her into a wall) and drooled/mumbled/slobbered/said "I'm going to work."  My boss thought I was nuts for coming in, until he read the note I had written to him, explaining that I was there for the safety of my face and that of my child's face. He just shook his head and walked away.

I won't give the name of the place dumb enough to empl

oy the jaw breaker.

Here I am, a few years later, with the bottom wisdom tooth on the other side acting a fool. Back to the dentist I go. This one was good. He even took what I said to heart, when I warned him that I throw punches at people who cause my teeth to hurt worse. As he started pulling I couldn't actually feel it, but, I could hear that horrific popping, crunching, ripping sound. *Shudder*  It was just a knee jerk reaction. That man was on point! Fully prepared, moving much faster than I though a man of his age could, he caught my fist and smiled at me. My eyes were wide! I tried to apologize past the mouth full of dental tools. He just laughed and said I wasn't his first hitter, then thanked me for warning him. It got impacted. Of course it did. That's my luck, right? If you've never experienced dry socket, pray you never do. That's a pain that would put a sumo wrestler on his knees. Screw that noise! This dentist was so awesome, though. He had me come into his office three times a day to change out the packing and shoot me full of Novocaine. Again, that blessed, life saving injection that leaves you slobbering all over yourself for hours.

Fastfarward a couple of years. Both top wisdom teeth are trying to come in. I knew this would happen eventually, but hoped it never would. My top teeth were in my sinus cavities. Not much of a "happy happy joy joy" situation with those bad boys started crawling down. Holy shit, my face hurt! Again, dental surgery. This time it was a dental surgeon in Oklahoma City. He actually put me under. I was really, really hoping there wouldn't be any complications. The final arrangement was to cut through the roof of my mouth, as opposed to cutting through my face. However, one complication too many, and, BOOM, my face gets sliced and diced. There were complications. Again, it's me we're talking about, here. But, thankfully, none of them resulted in a change of incision. I kept waking up from the anesthesia, for one. They had to give me more to knock me back out three times. After it was all said and done, the dentist said that people waking up from anesthetic during any kind of surgery was normal and "quite common." Exfraggincuse me?? No, it's very much NOT. The other complication was something that was always in the realm of possibility. A tunnel. I have a tunnel in my mouth. If my sinus cavities get too congested it will drain into my mouth through the tunnel left from the extraction. If I try to pull too hard off of a straw, whatever I am drinking will end up going from my mouth into my sinuses. Good times, man, good times. The aftermath of that left me in pure hell. My face was so swollen that I looked like a purple Voldemort. I ended up in the hospital from after surgery complications more than once, and during one visit was overdosed on morphine. Would anyone like some used luck? I'm done with mine. I don't want it anymore.

Since the four-ply wisdom tooth fun I've had a rear molar and my bottom 2 front teeth pulled after breaking them. Every time has been enjoyable experience. And if you buy that, I've got an awesome bridge up for sale.

So here I am, once again, with a tooth in pieces, hating life, wishing I had a friend with a Novocaine stockpile and dreading what comes next. What does come next? With any luck someone will just shoot the damn Ninja goat. He's gone from Riverdancing in my mouth to tap dancing on my face. Or maybe that's a zombie troll. There's a vampire gnome playing bongos on top of my head, I'm sure of it. The herd of wild buffalo hasn't stopped their death metal guitar lessons from being hosted on my eardrums yet, but I'm doing my best to evict them.

Toothaches suck.