I know a lot of people believe in the literal translation of hell; that it’s a big furnace-type deal where the lost souls of the earth will roast for all eternity.  Well I am pretty sure that hell looks a lot like a dentist’s office.

Today I got my temporary crown off and the permanent one put back on.  This was about as much fun as…well, I suppose no simile is needed here.  The dentist is a really nice guy, I think I will keep him.  Usually dentists HATE me because I squirm like a four year old.  And it takes forever to get me numbed up.  But this guy is patient and tells me “You’re doing really good,” which means a lot when you are in the dentist chair and whatnot.  I do feel bad for the chair though, I usually rip up the armrests pretty good during these sessions.  But I digress.

So besides that first procedure, I had to get a cavity filled and then another old, Navy-made crown off (think: big hunk of mercury…) and fashioned for a new one.  But that one wasn’t so bad, since it had also been the site of a root canal and no nerves were there. 

It isn’t so much the injections, and the bad tasting ickiness, and the drilling, and the sanding, and the high sounds of the drill…no, it’s not just those things that make the dentist a rotten experience.  It’s the pulling apart of your jaw to immense proportions that was never meant to see, sticking hunks of rubber between your teeth so that your mouth stays open.  It’s the “rubber dam” held on by vice-grip metal clips that pierce into your gums.  It’s the smell of burning nerves as the dentist saws into the deep pockets of your tooth that frankly, should never have to see the light of a curing beam.  And don’t even get me started on that purple goo that they use to make the molds of your teeth out of.

Two and a half hours later, I was able to leave.  And I had to give them money for this.