By Jim Hagarty
2012
I have a good dentist. He’s kept most of my pearly whites firmly lodged in my mouth for almost 25 years and he’s done it pleasantly if not cheaply.
But dentists can have off days I guess, why can’t they? Trouble is, when mine has a shoulda-stood-in-bed day but shows up anyway, that usually translates into a universe of hurt for me.
Not long ago, I went in for a ho-hum filling of a rather cavernous cavity of the Grand Canyon variety. Should have been easier than flossing a dead bear (which I have done many times). The problem started when the injection into my jaw line to freeze the necessary parts didn’t take. No numbness other than the usual deadness in my head where my brain used to be.
Let’s try that again. Sorry. Bright as a begonia. One more time for the Queen’s Jubilee. Nothing.
So he went ahead with the operation anyway. Holy crap, mind my English. My gums apparently have a lot of feeling in them. The only up side is I didn’t have to wait for the freezing to come out. But I played guitar and sang shortly after for a group of people and believe me, every tune I did was a real hurtin’ song.
Hank Williams would have felt proud of me and sorry for me at the same time, but not sorrier than I did for myself. I had a bad, bad case of the Dentist Chair Blues.
