Getting your wisdom teeth out is like a mugging. You’re broke, you can’t eat solid food, but you got that bastard’s drugs he dropped in the struggle.
I just got my wisdom teeth out. My peers tell me that at 21 this is late in life to have such a procedure by comparison. You would think perhaps that a dentist would, on a review of annual X-rays, have some advice on that front. Perhaps, “oh Mr. Abrams, it seems you have large boney clamps twisting themselves around sensitive nerves in your face.” Such a statement should of course be followed up with, “and let’s do something about the bastards before they make a foot hold in your jaw bone.” Perhaps even, “look at those ass holes grow! You’re 20 years old and this is getting serious! We cannot wait another year because this is going to suck in like 1 year.”
Sadly my dentist and I have had a falling out over the years and my lack of flossing has grated him enough to make his guidance on the matter more acerbic. “Well Evan, they are your teeth, I’m not going to tell you what to do with them.”
Interesting. The subject wouldn’t have even come up for discussion had I not been of the childish curiosity to wheel about in that mechanical chair and inquire a resounding WTF at the pictures of my face on the monitor. For years I had entrusted the analysis of X-rays to qualified professionals. On this instance however I think I was spot on with my arrogant question-dectimy.
You see, when teeth grow out of your head they have a tendency to grow perpendicular to the jaw line in an orderly fashion. Wisdom teeth are no exception, no matter how wizened they can be. However, much to my surprise, one of my wisdom teeth was deviating from course, grossly deviating. It was a full 90* the wrong way and growing blissfully, stretching its spiny barbs towards where my jaw hinges together. The prospect of it’s continued advancement on the “flavor country” of nerves and muscle tissue was unsettling to say the least. I was momentarily overjoyed that my dentist chose to shelter me from my upcoming self induced discomfort.
I then wondered aloud why such a thing would occur. My Dentist informed my that, “shit happens”. If he didn’t have Pac-Man and pinball machines in his waiting room I would stop showing up for these enlightening sessions. I have often wondered how such a growth could have slipped through his due diligence. He’s been my only dentist since I even had teeth. He’s taken a fair share of radioactive images of my face. I’m sure that lead vest does dick all for my now mutated retard sperm. And the top it all off this is a sideways tooth, amazingly juxtaposed to the very fine regular teeth around it. It’s not like it just appeared there. These things have been growing for a while. Now I’m 21 and this sideways tooth just snuck up on me from some place inside my jaw line to bring me headaches and melancholy.
His office is next to an ice cream shop. He is a hypocrite.
For the surgery I selected a lovely private clinic in my hood. The doctor and I talked about golf and whether i had any allergies. Eventually it was mutually decided that I required substantial amounts of oxycodone, and acetaminophen we call Percocet 5/325. How delicious this stuff is. It’s like coating your pain receptors in a shield of rainbows repelling the evil cousin of the unicorn, the omnicorn. Thankfully my natural tolerance for tolerating unbearable situations makes the Oxy mostly recreational. It seems my co-ghostrunnerits were right about my slide into substance abuse.
Thankfully my recovery has gone well. No swelling, no bruising, no dry socket, no nerve damage, no drooling, not even a chunk of banana bread absorbed into the extraction site. Therefore, my mouth will be all healed and ridiculously good looking for the next filming date.