Written by Chuck Terzella
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Tags: funny, Hurts, teeth

Monday, 29 December 2003

As the title might suggest to the more intellectually proficient among you, I have a tooth ache, so don’t expect me to be funny, charming, erudite or even mildly polite. My tooth hurts and when your tooth hurts you are absolved from all pretense of the social graces. It’s not like, say a bullet in the shoulder on the battlefield, where you can grit your teeth and mutter, “It’s ok, I’ll live; now let’s go get the commie bastards!” It’s not like that at all because for one thing you can’t grit your teeth...YOU HAVE A TOOTHACHE! Try gritting your teeth with an impacted molar and you’ll fall to your knees sobbing,” If those commie bastards have a good oral surgeon, I surrender!”

For another thing those commie bastards aren’t our enemies any more, and even if they were, they don’t really have any good dentists in those backwards countries east of the Urals. When was the last time you met a really exceptional Kazak or Azerbaijani periodontist? (By the way, I’ll probably get hate mail from soldiers who fought those commie bastards back when they were our enemies excoriating me for trivializing the pain and suffering of battle, not to mention the Kazak and Azerbaijani Dental Association, but my answer to them is...FUCK YOU I HAVE A TOOTHACHE! )

A toothache is among the worst forms of pain. In the last year and a half I’ve had two major operations involving hospital stays, anesthesia and stitches and months long recuperations and I’d take those over a serious toothache any day. (Actually, I’m lying, those two operations hurt like the devil and I wish I never have to go through them again, but you got to admit that the statement had impact.) For one thing, when you have an operation, you get nurses taking care of you; always a good thing. And they practice pain management. Both times I was in hospital every two hours like clockwork those angels of mercy would come in and give me a rather substantial bump of IV Demerol, bless their hearts. I suspect that their main reason for doing that was to keep me from pressing the little call button and whining pitifully over the intercom every five seconds; after all, they have work to do and can’t be fooling around helping the sick all the time, but hey, that’s a valid reason too. But when I went to the dentist today with a screaming in agony toothache, he suggested I go to Sam’s Club and buy the big 500 count bottles of Ibuprofen and take as many as I needed. I had to beg and plead for a two day supply of the mildest codeine based pain killer he could think of.

Think about this... I have a molar that got infected and every time I close my mouth my top teeth pushes this thing down into my infected gum. He wouldn’t remove the tooth because it was too close to the nerve; he wants me to go to an oral surgeon because he’s afraid he’ll cut the nerve. This means that every time I bite down this tooth presses on the nerve. Think of how that feels. It, in a word, hurts. But would he give me a proper pain killer, like, say, percodan? No he would not, because percodan requires a triplicate prescription form, one copy of which I believe goes to the DEA or some such agency and if that agency reviews the amount of forms from a given dentist or doctors office and determines that too many of them are being written they can come in and audit the practice to find out if there’s any skullduggery afoot. So most Doctors refuse to write triplicate prescriptions; after all who needs the hassle? Forget the poor slob who’s in pain, let him suck down Ibuprofen or Acetaminophen. But they’re forgetting one major thing...I HAVE A TOOTHACHE!

I suppose there are good reasons for this too. People abuse drugs. Karl Marx said that religion is the opiate of the masses, but that was wrong. Opiates are the religion of the masses is nearer to the mark. (by the way, I think I’m gonna copyright that puppy, so lay off it.) And the way I feel right now, I could use some of that old time religion. But it’s been a long time since I’ve felt the urge to crunch a handful of percodan on a Saturday night as a social exercise. Hell, I don’t even drink anymore. (Liquor, I mean. Obviously, I drink water and stuff; if I didn’t I’d be dead and come to think of it I wish I was dead because...I HAVE A TOOTHACHE!)

Unfortunately, right now people are suing doctors for prescribing Oxycontin and getting them all addicted to it. Of course the way I understand it, to abuse Oxycontin you have to chew it or snort it or melt it and shoot it and it’s a given that as soon as you wipe of the pill crumbs from you lips that you should be able to sue the doctor that you probably lied to in the first place to get the pills for not seeing through your ploy. (Wow, where did that come from? You’d think I had a toothache or something)

So, that’s it. I’ll spend tonight eating these pitiful pain killers that the dentist gave me, plus slamming down ibuprofen by the jar full with an Ambusol chaser, until I can find an Oral surgeon that I can afford and who can take me before the middle of next month, which is the current waiting time. But I’m not giving up hope. A friend mentioned an Uzbek illegal alien that’s currently working for a paving company who used to be a dentist. He’s not great or anything, but just by looking at him you can tell he practices pain management. And that’s the important thing.

The story above is a satire or parody. It is entirely fictitious.

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