Cutting Teeth

So I know the expression is “like pulling teeth,” but I think I’m going to throw a new one out there for you. How about, it’s “like cutting teeth?”

I suggest this because while I have not had a tooth pulled since before I had braces, I seem to remember it being done under a local anesthetic by a professional who scheduled me for an appointment that I was in and out of in about an hour.

So while “pulling teeth” sounds painful, it’s sort of antiquated considering the advances in dentistry over the years. Cutting a tooth on the other hand, well that’s far more difficult.

It seems common practice for people to have their wisdom teeth pulled. I don’t know much about it, other than the word “impacted” being thrown around, and I didn’t think I’d have to until I started cutting a wisdom tooth at some point last year. My dentist assured me that as long as it continued to progressively emerge, I wouldn’t have anything to worry about other than some slight discomfort. All the while his assistant was standing behind him saying, “Isn’t that cute? She’s cutting a tooth!” Yeah lady, cutting a tooth is just what men find adorable in a 25 year old woman.

So now it’s a year later and we’re approaching the only holiday all year where the main event is eating and my wisdom tooth has decided it’s going to make the big push to join the rest of my teeth at the table. Perhaps it saw the turkey as incentive. Unfortunately, this means that I’m in a good deal of pain.

While I normally don’t take anything, not even Advil, I’m seriously considering something stronger. The best way I can describe the pain is to say that it feels like someone is using an icepick to cut through your gums from the outside to make room for a fang that is emerging from underneath. Lovely.

Teeth are a sensitive subject for me, to the point where I can’t watch American History X or any movie where dental work is involved, Little Shop of Horrors included. My normally high threshold for pain comes with the exception of any sort of oral discomfort.

So, while you are all enjoying delicious Thanksgiving meals, celebrating the folks who made it all possible, I’ll be eating a gallon of my sisters sweet potato soup and drinking wine to numb the pain.

Anybody want to bring me butterscotch pudding?

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