Monday, October 25, 2004

The Slurpee Incident

My dentist told me six months ago that I have two cavities. He knows this because his evil henchwoman shoved those huge cardboard x-ray tabs into my grill, covered me with a 20-pound lead blanket and aimed a huge bazooka right at my cheek. He showed me the x-rays and cordially invited me back to his office a week thereafter for the requisite needles and drilling and blood-soaked cotton balls. I accepted his invitation with complete passive-aggressive enthusiasm.

"Sure, doc," I said. "I'll see you then. I'm looking forward to it."

Naturally, I ditched the appointment because I’m a complete wuss when it comes to having people I don’t know fishing around in my mouth with sharp objects and power tools. Guess that rules out a career in porn for me, huh?

I have let the cavities fester and grow to the point that I can now store loose change and my cell phone in them. This is a source of great humor for Hot Wife, who brushes and flosses with psychotic frequency and returns from each dentist visit making self-congratulatory claims about how spectacular the dentist thinks her teeth are. “He said that if all of his patients were like me, he’d be out of business,” she says.

“Whatever, psycho,” I respond.

My worsening dental trauma made for a crippling physical challenge this weekend. We loaded up the minivan and headed to 7-11 for a round of Slurpees on Saturday afternoon. All was well. The kids were happy. Hot Wife and her sparkling choppers were looking as beautiful as ever. And my eyebrows were freshly shaved and lathered in Old Spice. It was a perfect family day.

That euphoria bullshit ended when first sip of my Coke Slurpee burrowed its way up into the cavity in my back right upper tooth and shot a sensation of cold pain through the nerve inside it. The jolt shot down my neck, through my arm and down to my toes. My right eye slammed shut, I snorted, the Slurpee came dribbling out of my mouth, I banged my head on the steering wheel of the minivan and a little trickle of pee-pee came out of me. I screamed, which made the kids scream, and the dude from 7-11 came running outside to see if I was beating my kids or something.

“What the hell just happened?” Hot Wife asked, wondering perhaps if I had just suffered a mild stroke or, worse yet, if I had eaten one of those hot dogs they sell at 7-11 that look like a cheese-covered turd.

“Nothing, honey. It just went down the wrong pipe.”

5 Comments:

At 1:12 PM, Blogger sevans said...

I had to read that one twice for extra laughs. You are so funny! I just bought floss at Costco if you're interested.

 
At 1:48 PM, Blogger Lala said...

Someone willing to share floss? Hmmmm. Dan you have a strange fan club.
But seriously, I saw that scream coming a mile away. Did you know that you can now watch a movie while the dentist does his work? Someday I'll tell you all about having a root canal while watching Matthew McConahooey trap some little blonde ditz in matrimony or something like that.

 
At 1:50 PM, Blogger none said...

Funny but it also gave me the shivers. I´ve been putting off appointments my self.

 
At 2:27 PM, Blogger honestyrain said...

all things dental are terrifying and not to be laughed at. i am sad for you and your pain. poor poor you.

 
At 5:25 PM, Blogger ck said...

youch...i feel your pain. this coming from a person with characteristically "weak teeth". i am a freak as far as i get my teeth cleaned every 6 months, i brush at least twice a day, i floss nightly, and swish with nas-tay listerine. i even gave up drinking pop 2 years ago! but alas, almost every one of my teeth has had a filling in it (+ 1 root canal w/ crown). then there's my freak of a friend who hasn't gone to the dentist in like 5 years, drinks 4 cans a pop a day, and brushes once daily and she has absa-friggin-lutely not-a-one cavity. punk.

 

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