Third Molar Gone: Troubles Begin

I had a tooth pulled last week. It was easier than when I was a child I suppose. In those days dentists used ether which was okay, but there was always another kid before you who walked to the dentist’s chair but had to be carried out in his father’s arms with a big wad of gauze in his mouth. Even a kid could see that when the dentist’s work was done, you wouldn’t be asking for a Goldenberg’s Peanut Chews candy bar.
Nowadays oral surgeons put you to sleep. My oral surgeon certainly knocked me out cold and I could not have been happier about it. The last thing I remembered was the pinch when the needle went into my vein.
Nothing is perfect though. After the deed was done they led me into a holding area where I sat staring into space. Not exactly alert and not quite sedated, I apparently put on a little show. Two days after my procedure, when my wife figured I was about as alert as I was going to get, she informed me that it appeared to her that I had fallen in love with my oral surgeon. I don’t remember this. My wife assured me, however that I held the doctor’s hand and touched her arm repeatedly while telling her how great she was.
In the immortal words of the late Richard Milhous Nixon, let me make one thing perfectly clear. I love my wife and have for a long time. I am not in love with the good doctor. I do like her a lot. And, while she is a very pretty lady, it wasn’t her good looks that captivated me that day. Really. I am certain that what made me so ecstatic was the miracle she performed. Without causing me even the slightest twinge of pain, the doctor extracted a molar that had been warning me for months that it wanted a divorce. In fact, three days later I still felt no pain. I ask you, would you fall a little bit in love with a dentist that did that for you?
I have to admit that after my wife told me about my 30 second romance, I worried about what else I might have said or done. I was afraid to ask really. I mean suppose I asked to take the tooth home and put it under my pillow? Considering the thin ice I was on, all I needed was to make a move on the tooth fairy. Believe me the love of my life would have seen to it that I got to spend lots of time with an oral surgeon.
We go through a lot of trouble to avoid pain. In fact, we’ll put up with pain until the pain of not taking action is greater than the pain of righting the ship. People stay in miserable marriages, soul searing jobs and even live with mammoth tooth aches for years just waiting for the scales to tip. Getting a divorce or changing jobs is time consuming and fraught with risks and undesirable consequences. And, there are commitments that can’t be dismissed lightly. Until death us do part is a rather clear statement. And, even a really boring job that offers health insurance is worth a certain amount of pain. Toothaches, on the other hand, are easily dispensed with in modern times. Yet, we’ll do anything to avoid dental work.
In the old days, when removing a tooth was an excruciating experience, it made sense to hang in there as long as you could. Novocain’s been around for a hundred years and laughing gas was first synthesized 225 years ago. These options are still available to anybody with a gene that makes extreme cage fighting sound attractive. However, if pain is not your friend, chances are you’ll take something a bit stronger when its time to part company with that molar. Except for the bad behavior thing, sedation works wonders.
Still, notwithstanding the benefits of sleeping through the pain, I wonder now if I should have opted for a quick yank, a muffled scream and been done with it. Then I wouldn’t have any worries. As it turns out, I have another date with my oral surgeon in May. I’ve decided to have an implant procedure to replace the departed third molar. She will no doubt put me to sleep again when she surgically implants the post. Will she remember my previous performance and insist on putting me in restraints? That doesn’t sound like fun. Still better than the alternative though. Who knows what I might say if they give me a bit of laughing gas?

Copyright 2009 Len Serafino. All rights reserved.