Dr. Mengele’s Associate Dr. X.

“Well...SHIT!”

Those were the exact words that came out of my mouth last night. Well, small pieces of popcorn also came out of my mouth as well. I broke a large piece of tooth off of my upper left, rear molar. If the molar were the Antarctic ice shelf, peoples in costal cities would be running for higher ground. The other three molar areas of my mouth are composed of precious metals, and this last real remaining group of masticating teeth have taken a killer blow. “Well...SHIT!”

I guess if I had to find a silver lining it would be that there is no pain. Hoo-rah! I spent the better part of today sticking various fingers in my mouth with the hopes that perhaps it was just a bad dream. The only way it is a bad dream, would be if I am still asleep. Nope, I am awake. “Well...SHIT!”

So, first thing tomorrow I will call my dentist and see if she has a spare few moments in between pain inflicting sessions. I know that she will accommodate me, she likes me. Yeah, there is no way you can understand a dentist. My last dentist was a nice guy but once we were done with one of our appointments, I made the comment that “I understand that dentists have a high suicide rate.”

He said “That’s right, I think it is because we perform a service that is necessary but no one wants.” and shook his head like he thought that I might sympathize with him and his ilk.

I told him “Good”.

My new dentist is quite young and pretty, not to mention skilled. I do look forward to seeing her, but I know that we will be talking root canal and crown at the very least. Oh well, I guess this is the only way that I will accumulate any gold at all. Hey, the silver lining is also gold!

When I was a kid, my parents would take me to this dentist that was quite probably an associate of Dr Mengele’s. My brother wouldn’t open his mouth for this guy (Steve was pretty smart back in the day) so Dr. X put his hairy hand around my six year old brothers neck and squeezed until Steve opened his mouth. I can remember watching those hairy hands grinding away at a small cavity, making it larger and therefore easier to fill. I suspect that his eyesight was failing. I sat in that chair and kept leaning over the “spit” sink watching tiny bits of teeth and what appeared to be gallons of blood, swirl down the drain. The only reason that I kept going back is that he liberally used nitrous oxide and would let you leave while you were still high. Good times. I can remember one time he kept missing the “nerve” and shot syringe after syringe after syringe into my upper right gum. My whole freakin’ head was frozen until the next day!

Well, my new dentist won’t be choking me or using a spit sink, we will chat and laugh while she mends my, oh so neglected mouth. I might even tell her about Dr. Mengele’s associate Dr. X.