My friend Petey is getting his Wisdom Teeth out today.
Two of them.
He mentioned this to me last night, when I asked him about his plans. "I'm getting my wisdom teeth out tomorrow morning. At 9AM."
"Dude, you realize, you're not coming out drinking with us tomorrow night."
"Eh, yeah, I guess. We'll see."
"No, I don't think you understand. You're not gonna be drinking with us tomorrow night. And good thing you're not much of an eater, because you won't wanna be eating anything on Thursday either."
That's right. Today. The day before Thanksgiving, Petey is getting a double-extraction.
I would never put even my worst enemy under the hell that is a Wisdom Tooth Extraction (having been through two of my own. Two separate traumatic events.)
And not even the holy hell that I endured my while my dentist planted his foot on my chest so he could brace himself for the yanking. Or the grabbing and pulling from inside my mouth that lobbed my head around the room, as if he was some kind of sloppy baggage handler, and my whole body was the suitcase and the handle was inside my mouth. Or the agonizing hour of watching the reflection in his glasses of the pooling puddles of blood in my mouth, or actually seeing my blood splatter on his glasses. Or the muffled non-apology he sorta mumbled afterwards that kinda sounded like him saying, "Yeah, maybe we shoulda sent you to an oral surgeon for this" because it turns out the renegade tooth was facing in a direction that would've been perfect if my mouth was located under my chin. Or the fact that after waiting an hour at the World's Worst Pharmacy that was already a 45 minute drive away from the dentist's office, the pharmacist said, "Oh, we've been trying to call you... the date is wrong on this prescription, so we couldn't fill it. Can you just go back to your doctor's and get another prescription and come back later?" Or that a full year later, turns out Dr. Pith Helmet & Pickaxe was NOT nearly done with crushing my spirit by removing a tooth.
Probably the WORST thing... was the damage to my PSYCHE.
All you "friends" and "loved ones" who thought it best to mentally prepare me for the worst? The physical pain was one thing, but the horror stories they told me beforehand was just as bad.
So, as Petey pondered the realization that he wouldn't be packin' on pounds this Thanksgiving Day because he'd be on the oral-surgery-starvation-diet, I proceeded to regale him with the time-honored oral tradition if you will, of potential Wisdom Teeth nightmares.
(ok, I'm embellishing)
So, here it is, I encourage you too to share you worst Wisdom Tooth Extraction stories here. The more gory, the better. So I can share with Petey, and so you have more tales of terror to share with your pre-extraction loved ones.