My dental insurance company finally approved my having a root canal that the demons said I badly needed. I could only take the demons word for it, as I am not a dentist, but I am a little suspicious as the tooth in question was causing me no discomfort whatsoever.
As you recall, dear readers, in the Dean Koontz novel, "Twilight Eyes," the protagonist battles demons, or goblins, that can mask themselves as normal human beings. He has a unique ability to see through their disguise, and he actively hunts them.
I do not have that ability. However I do believe that dental medicine is a perfect profession for the demons to harvest the fear and pain of their helpless victims, er... patients (MTA bus drivers, as well). They even wear masks to hide their identities.
My appointment was for ten-thirty yesterday morning. Yesterday was Earth Day, a day designed to inspire awareness and appreciation of our planet's environment, founded by Senator Gaylord Nelson in 1970. I annually celebrate Earth Day by conserving water and not showering. The day before Earth Day, I had forgotten it was Earth Day the next day, which is unfortunate as I got into a heated garlic fight with my neighbor, Robert.
Accordingly I arrived at my dentist's office reeking of stale but pungent garlic, and my hair standing straight up like Larry of the Three Stooges. I signed in with the demon receptionist and took a seat in the fairly crowded waiting area. Many of the other waiting patients changed their seating arrangements to get as far away from me as possible. I didn't mind, and thanked providence for the previous night's garlic fight, as I knew demons are repelled by garlic... or is that vampires? It didn't matter, if garlic doesn't repel the demons it's bound to at least piss them off.
Soon I heard my name called by a demon dental assistant, which I followed into the bowels of the demon domain.
"It's so nice to have you back with us Mr. Joyce," the demon said. "Good God, what's that smell."
"Sorry," I said, "I fell into a pit of garlic on my way here." It's good to mislead the demons at every opportunity.
"Jesus. Okay, have a seat. The doctor will be with you shortly."
I took a seat in the dentist chair and began reading from John Nickols "The Magic Journey." I had forgotten to bring my reading glasses, so I couldn't actually clearly see the words before me, but it is good to make a nonchalant appearance in the midst of demons.
"Good God, what's that smell?" asked the demon dentist by way of introduction.
"Sorry," I said, "I fell into a ..."
"Never mind," he said. "Matilda, get some incense."
My demon dentist took the disguise of a young Hispanic man in his early thirties. His assistant, the demon Matilda, chose the appearance of a plump Hispanic woman in her twenties.
The demon dentist explained to me what the root canal procedure entailed. They had x-rays from the last time I was there. There were three separate canals that needed to be rooted out in the designated tooth. Then it began.
The demons would like nothing more than to attack their victims without using any anesthetic as that will maximize the amount of nutrients they receive. They have to at least make an appearance of applying the pain deafening drug in order make things look copesetic. I know the ways of demons and took the appropriate precautions, and consumed 37, 800 milligram acetaminophen tablets before arriving.
They waited a short amount of time for their supposed "anesthetic" to take effect, then the demon dentist probed my gums with a sharp instrument of torture.
"Can you feel this?" he asked hopefully.
I couldn't reply properly as a small piece of rubber was locking my mouth open. That piece of rubber would remain in my mouth for the next two hours.
"Uh, uh," I wittily replied.
"How about this," he stuck the instrument on the other side of my gum.
"Ah, Hah."
"Good, we're ready to begin. If you begin to feel any discomfort just raise your left hand, and I may or may not stop."
He really said that to me.
First came the drilling. Drill, drill, drill.
The demon doctor and assistant spoke to each other softly in what the untrained ear might interpret as some kind of Spanish dialect, but I can discern the black tongue of the Underworld when I hear it.
"You have good calcium, Mr. Joyce," the demon doctor informed me. "You'll never have to worry about osteoporosis." I could tell this enraged him.
The drilling ended abruptly. Then the filing started. File, file, file.
It went on and on. Despite putting his entire hand in my poor mouth several times, and his pressing down sharply on my lips, and other parts of my mouth while he continued working, I told him I felt no discomfort whenever he asked. At one point, doped up on acetaminophen, garlic, and fake anesthetic, I felt like taking a little nap to pass the time.
"Jesus, this is a tough tooth," the doctor exclaimed. "I'm going to have to charge you double. You've broken three of my files!"
"Ooory," I said.
"Alright, we are going to take an x-ray right now, the first of three during this procedure." The demon left, and his assistant led me to the x-ray machine. I still had the piece of rubber locking my mouth open in, so as I walked around I found myself drooling all over the place.
The dentist returned and examined the x-ray.
"Perfect," he said. He continued filing in another canal, another x-ray was taken. I kept drooling all over the place. Drool, drool, drool.
In the end this ploy was used.
"I can't file through this last canal because the calcium is so ossified. I've placed a calcium softener in your tooth, and you'll have to come back in about a week."
The demons always want another shot at you.
They finally removed the rubber block from my mouth, restoring my powers of speech.
"Okay," I said.
I made an appointment at the reception desk for ten o'clock on May 2nd. All three of the receptionists spoke in unison: "Thank you for coming, Mr. Joyce. Can't wait to see you next
time." They all smiled evilly.
I got out of there while the getting was good.
As you recall, dear readers, in the Dean Koontz novel, "Twilight Eyes," the protagonist battles demons, or goblins, that can mask themselves as normal human beings. He has a unique ability to see through their disguise, and he actively hunts them.
I do not have that ability. However I do believe that dental medicine is a perfect profession for the demons to harvest the fear and pain of their helpless victims, er... patients (MTA bus drivers, as well). They even wear masks to hide their identities.
My appointment was for ten-thirty yesterday morning. Yesterday was Earth Day, a day designed to inspire awareness and appreciation of our planet's environment, founded by Senator Gaylord Nelson in 1970. I annually celebrate Earth Day by conserving water and not showering. The day before Earth Day, I had forgotten it was Earth Day the next day, which is unfortunate as I got into a heated garlic fight with my neighbor, Robert.
Accordingly I arrived at my dentist's office reeking of stale but pungent garlic, and my hair standing straight up like Larry of the Three Stooges. I signed in with the demon receptionist and took a seat in the fairly crowded waiting area. Many of the other waiting patients changed their seating arrangements to get as far away from me as possible. I didn't mind, and thanked providence for the previous night's garlic fight, as I knew demons are repelled by garlic... or is that vampires? It didn't matter, if garlic doesn't repel the demons it's bound to at least piss them off.
Soon I heard my name called by a demon dental assistant, which I followed into the bowels of the demon domain.
"It's so nice to have you back with us Mr. Joyce," the demon said. "Good God, what's that smell."
"Sorry," I said, "I fell into a pit of garlic on my way here." It's good to mislead the demons at every opportunity.
"Jesus. Okay, have a seat. The doctor will be with you shortly."
I took a seat in the dentist chair and began reading from John Nickols "The Magic Journey." I had forgotten to bring my reading glasses, so I couldn't actually clearly see the words before me, but it is good to make a nonchalant appearance in the midst of demons.
"Good God, what's that smell?" asked the demon dentist by way of introduction.
"Sorry," I said, "I fell into a ..."
"Never mind," he said. "Matilda, get some incense."
My demon dentist took the disguise of a young Hispanic man in his early thirties. His assistant, the demon Matilda, chose the appearance of a plump Hispanic woman in her twenties.
The demon dentist explained to me what the root canal procedure entailed. They had x-rays from the last time I was there. There were three separate canals that needed to be rooted out in the designated tooth. Then it began.
The demons would like nothing more than to attack their victims without using any anesthetic as that will maximize the amount of nutrients they receive. They have to at least make an appearance of applying the pain deafening drug in order make things look copesetic. I know the ways of demons and took the appropriate precautions, and consumed 37, 800 milligram acetaminophen tablets before arriving.
They waited a short amount of time for their supposed "anesthetic" to take effect, then the demon dentist probed my gums with a sharp instrument of torture.
"Can you feel this?" he asked hopefully.
I couldn't reply properly as a small piece of rubber was locking my mouth open. That piece of rubber would remain in my mouth for the next two hours.
"Uh, uh," I wittily replied.
"How about this," he stuck the instrument on the other side of my gum.
"Ah, Hah."
"Good, we're ready to begin. If you begin to feel any discomfort just raise your left hand, and I may or may not stop."
He really said that to me.
First came the drilling. Drill, drill, drill.
The demon doctor and assistant spoke to each other softly in what the untrained ear might interpret as some kind of Spanish dialect, but I can discern the black tongue of the Underworld when I hear it.
"You have good calcium, Mr. Joyce," the demon doctor informed me. "You'll never have to worry about osteoporosis." I could tell this enraged him.
The drilling ended abruptly. Then the filing started. File, file, file.
It went on and on. Despite putting his entire hand in my poor mouth several times, and his pressing down sharply on my lips, and other parts of my mouth while he continued working, I told him I felt no discomfort whenever he asked. At one point, doped up on acetaminophen, garlic, and fake anesthetic, I felt like taking a little nap to pass the time.
"Jesus, this is a tough tooth," the doctor exclaimed. "I'm going to have to charge you double. You've broken three of my files!"
"Ooory," I said.
"Alright, we are going to take an x-ray right now, the first of three during this procedure." The demon left, and his assistant led me to the x-ray machine. I still had the piece of rubber locking my mouth open in, so as I walked around I found myself drooling all over the place.
The dentist returned and examined the x-ray.
"Perfect," he said. He continued filing in another canal, another x-ray was taken. I kept drooling all over the place. Drool, drool, drool.
In the end this ploy was used.
"I can't file through this last canal because the calcium is so ossified. I've placed a calcium softener in your tooth, and you'll have to come back in about a week."
The demons always want another shot at you.
They finally removed the rubber block from my mouth, restoring my powers of speech.
"Okay," I said.
I made an appointment at the reception desk for ten o'clock on May 2nd. All three of the receptionists spoke in unison: "Thank you for coming, Mr. Joyce. Can't wait to see you next
time." They all smiled evilly.
I got out of there while the getting was good.
No comments:
Post a Comment