Message #293809

[franksolich]

Then the plumber began working on the upper right wisdom tooth.

Try as he could, it would not come out.

He pushed my head so far back it flung against the back of the chair as I sort of watched the plumber's wife walk around the back porch, swatting flies that had been attracted by the blood.

He pulled.....

.....and pulled.....

.....and pulled.....

.....and pulled.

By this time, he was kneeling on my lap, crushing my thighs.  It was a hot summer evening, and both he and I were sweating profusely, my cologne wedding with his plumbing odors.

The plumber got off my lap and stood there, looking at me with vexation.  I was sort of strangling, from the blood and sweat running down inside my throat, and coughed and sputtered, "Okay, okay, that's it, no more, forget about it."

The plumber got on my lap again, and pulled.....

.....and pulled.....

.....and pulled.

I was not aware of human veinous anatomy at the time, but it seemed to me that there must be some sort of major nerve, running from the big toe of one foot up through the body to the top of the skull.  It felt as if the plumber was trying to pull a 6'3" rope out from inside of me, rather than just a tooth.

The plumber continued pulling.

.....and pulling.....

.....and pulling.

This time, it felt as if he were trying to yank out my right eyeball, from the inside.

Just as vomit was scrambling up the windpipe, the tooth spurted out.  The plumber fell backward on my lap, and I grabbed his waist, to keep him from falling onto the floor.

I was dragged, sore, worn out.  I do not remember extraction of the fourth tooth, the lower right wisdom tooth, other than that it seemed to pop out as easily and quickly as the first two had.

The plumber, profusely perspiring, jammed more cotton and bichloride of mercury into my mouth, and indicated he was done now, but I should sit there and "rest."

The plumber's wife brought me a glass of some sort of Greek liqeuer, which I downed instantly, and later learned it was fermented poppyseeds.  Some minutes passed, minutes which I do not remember at all, other than that the plumber's wife was carefully washing my face and rubbing my head as I sat there.

When I was mobile and sensate, the plumber showed me the four teeth; they had been clean extractions, nothing left behind, and so there should be no problems.  Thanking him and his wife, I walked back home.

For the next few days, the sides of my face looked as if I had eggs on the inside of the cheeks, but as I had always tended to heal quickly, there were no problems after that.

Although every time I encountered the plumber while walking around the neighborhood, he stopped to stare at me as if I were Bozo from Outer Space.

Some years later, when I returned to Nebraska, I went to my former dentist for the usual standard customary no-problems dental check-up.  He had my old records, of course, and noticed the four wisdom teeth were all gone.

He looked inside, and then commented, "Good job; you must've had a really good dentist."