The Tooth Chronicles Continued

I have to thank Master Moore for the suggestion that I write about my ongoing dental adventures.

Part of the major excavation work that's being done on my mouth happened on Wednesday. I had asked for gas, thinking that it would be like that one time as a child, when the gas knocked me out cold and I dreamt about Muttley from The Wacky Races. Instead, I was given nitrous, which contrary to my expectations, stressed me out.

"How long does this usually take to kick in?" I asked my dentist.

"Usually, about two minutes," he replied.

"How long have I been sucking it down?"

"Oh, about fifteen. Do you feel you've been gyped?"

I did, and it was a bad trip. However, I decided to get on with it, closed my eyes, clenched my fists, and bared my teeth.

Over the course of the next ten minutes, I breathed in enough laughing gas to make even 'comedy' on the WB seem funny, though I didn't laugh once.

The procedure went well. All in all that experience was a gas!

The Tooth Chronicles

I’m donating my head to medical research. My mouth actually. I’ve been in dental hell since a root that holds a crown fractured when I bit into a french fry. However, there is some good news: I’ve been accepted as a candidate for research on dental implants, which means that I get an implant for a fraction of the usual cost. It gets better: the research study will pay me $20 for every follow-up visit. Twenty-six visits later, I’ll be in profit. Oh, I forgot, there’s all that other dental work I’m having done. Crikey! I will never eat french fries again. Oh, who am I trying to kid?!?! I’ll never be able to afford a bag of french fries ever again.