Mafia Style Novocaine Injection

Now that I had my first root canal procedure and the nerve was removed, you'd think the pain that originally brought me into the dentist would have ceased, right? Well, as it turns out, the pain only goes away if you fix the tooth that hurts you... not the one next to it! I'm still kicking myself for letting that lady dental surgeon's good looks cloud my better judgment.

I was in agony -- the kind that prompts a man to get the toolbox off the top shelf and start sizing up pliers for a self-extraction. It was no use, though. The tooth was too far in the back of my mouth and I couldn't get a good enough grip on it. And, yes. I did go that far to find out.

I tried to make an appointment with the dentist that day, but it was Saturday and they were closed. The best thing they could do for me was schedule an emergency visit; which didn't quite work for me because emergency fees and I don't mix. It's an "I have no dental insurance" thing. Instead, I got myself a big bottle of Nyquil and put myself in a haze for the remainder of the weekend. But before I went down the rabbit hole, I called up the Apprehensive Patient and reserved myself a 2 PM slot for a tooth extraction for that coming Monday with Dr. Tony Soprano.

Dr. Tony Soprano didn't have much of a bedside manner. He burst into the room, looking somewhat agitated, and a-matter-of-factly told me who he was.  He then asked me to open my mouth and BAM! He abruptly stabbed me once in the lower gums and again through my bad tooth with a foot-long needle that I didn't even know he had until after it was over. And, just like that he was gone. A true mafia-style Novocaine injection.

He returned 10 minutes later and it appeared that he'd been in my toolbox. "Numb yet?" he asked smiling as he juggled a pair of pliers and a hammer.

"I think so," I fearfully replied.

He wasted no time getting under the hood. I could tell he was beating the shit out of the inside of my mouth, but it was the damndest thing. I couldn't feel it all. The Crypt Keeper, I thought, could learn a thing or two about administering anesthesia from  Dr. Soprano.

The oral turbulence lasted about 3 minutes before it came to a sudden hault with a simple, "You're done," followed by the clinking of metal instruments being dropped onto a table. I opened my eyes and said, "that's it?"But, no one was there. Dr. Soprano was already off to his next paycheck... I mean patient.

Charlene was waiting for me in the lobby. I went in and out of surgery so fast that she asked, "What happened? You chicken out?"

"Shit?" I slurred. "I had the Dale Earhardt of teeth pulling in there."

"Wait. You're done already?" she asked with more seriousness in her tone.

I opened my mouth wide and gave her a close-up and personal view of the crime scene.

"Aw...." she winced. "That's disgusting!"

"There you have it," I concluded.

On the car ride home, I gave Charlene the whole rundown of my experience with the charming Dr. Soprano and his "surprise needle"technique and signature"Fast and the Furious" tooth extraction. She was like, "Oh my God! I would never go back to the dentist again if that happened to me."

My experiences with the Apprehensive Patient made me question what the name "Apprehensive Patient" really meant. My initial interpretation was that "I" was apprehensive about going to the dentist and "they" were going to demonstrate to me that going to the dentist doesn't have to be scary. But, after 3 visits with them, I began to think that maybe the were in the business of producing apprehensive patients -- like saying, "If you weren't scared of the dentist before, you're going to be now."

I guess I was pretty tough because I went back to the Crypt Keeper for the second leg of my root canal. Mostly I hoped he had gotten better with the Novocaine. But nope. He'd gotten worse. It took him 6 tries -- and I was probably only numb due to the sheer volume of Novocaine he injected into my system.

The second procedure wasn't as bad as the first, but I still felt like I was getting "dental school" quality level work done. And, I still had two procedures left yet to undergo. One was some bullshit surgery to lengthen my gum and the other was to cap my dying tooth. But, guess what? I didn't have either done because my job ended earlier than expected -- which meant I didn't have the  money to pay for it.

I'm not going to lie. I was a little concerned about half-assing my dental work like that. The question was: Can you get away with only getting half a root canal done?

It turns out you can -- because six months later I'm still short half a root canal and feeling great. I just need to fill my tooth with some toxic dental cement I found at the supermarket every few weeks to protect it from the elements.