Pulling Teeth

I’ve been comparing alot of things lately to pulling teeth, which makes today’s experience at the dentist rather ironic.

Having a tooth “pulled” is somewhat of misnomer, I’ve learned.  ”Pulling” sounds so easy…just pull and, voila, the tooth is out.  Well I’m here to tell you that it’s not exactly that easy.  Of course, if rather than saying that he was going to “pull” the tooth he instead said that he was going to “hammer, chisel, grind, saw, and drill your tooth, and then place enough torque on your jaw and skull to make you think  you’ve been in a car accident,” business might just dry up.

So dentists opt to tell you that they are going to “pull” your tooth.  What they’re really pulling is your leg; short of the doc gaining extra leverage by placing his heel against my chin, I can’t imagine how that could have been any worse.  Next time, I’ll just schedule an assault.  It would be cheaper and less traumatic.  Join me next week as I saw on my achilles tendon with a rusty hacksaw.

And it’s not over yet.  In another four weeks, I’ll head into be fitted for a “bridge.”  Well, a “bridge” sounds pleasant, sounds like an easy way to cross difficult waters.  Something tells me, though, that it will be more like the digging of an underwater tunnel in my head.  I, of course, will keep you posted.

Yes, a bridge.  I guess that shouldn’t surprise me, though, given the milestone birthday coming up.  It’s true, I’ll be turning 29 for the twelfth time on February 16.