Yesterday was officially bad times. It went better than the last wisdom tooth I had pulled; it was around Christmas time, and the dentists office had Jolly Jesus music piped in, which was almost worse that having Dr. Dan wrenching out a tooth that had “exceptionally long roots”.
Anyway, I don’t get why anyone would want to be in a profession where everyone dreads coming to see them. It rivals (if not surpasses) IRS agents… I’m thinking the only reason he is so cheerful, is because he’s hitting that medical grade nitrous. And on the subject of nitrous oxide, I didn’t find anything to laugh about. Maybe he gave me less because I came in reeking of bourbon, but when he had the pliers and other god-awful tools in my mouth digging around, laughter was the last thing on my mind.
On a not so positive note, I have another one that needs to come out on the other side, but he said he wanted to wait a little while because he wants this one to have a chance to heal, which happens quicker when there is one side to chew on. I think he just wanted me to be able to give a blowjob if I needed/wanted to. Dr. Dan warned against dry sockets, and I told him that if he just packed it with percocet, we could avoid that predicament altogether. I got a resounding “no” on that request.
Not even Magnum PI could comfort me last night. I know I’m in a bad place when I forgo mixers and drink straight out of the bottle (classy, I know). Rum and blood taste pretty gross together. Although, I think the straight alcohol will ensure I don’t get an infection.