Wisdom teeth must be ironically named, because it seems like their sole purpose is to cause stupid amounts of trouble for the human race. These teeth serve absolutely no other purpose. When they grow in, they usually grow in sideways or push the rest of your teeth around, and have to be surgically removed. The average human has four of these assholes.
It’s a known fact that I don’t like doctors, and usually only go to see one when I am in incredible amounts of pain, or find myself with some form of injury involving the words “visible” and “bone”. Sure, common sense says that’s probably why I’m an overweight, festering pool of misery, who sweats jello, but I’ve been getting by just fine with crazy glue and aspirin for most other troubles. Because of this, you may have already surmised that I still have all of my wisdom teeth. I also have a filling that fell out of my left molar, leaving a large gaping hole in it’s wake. If not constantly brushed and attacked with toothpicks after every meal, the wisdom tooth pushing on already swollen gums causes immense pain, trips to the emergency room for painkillers and antibiotics, and people saying “dude you should get that removed before it gets worse”. I would gladly do this, if I had health insurance, but I work for an evil corporation that treats it’s employees like resources to harvest, instead of human beings.
Recently while sleeping, I managed to bite down on my wisdom tooth and break it in half… Vertically. The pain was so immense that I could not function, instead lying on my couch in misery for two days while trying to hitch a ride to the emergency room. This is a tale of my two day adventure into drug and pain induced madness.
The first night (I work overnights, meaning that I ate my tooth during a mid day nap) I called out of work, feeling the storm of agony coming, and was halfway coherent. I remember sitting in the dark, googling how to remove my own teeth, grabbing the side of my head, and calmly explaining to my boss that I was in such complete agony that I could not reliably and safely function. I spent most of the night and next day doped up on cough medicine to make me sleep, waking up every three or so hours to lean over and eat at least four aspirin, washed down with another half cup of store brand NyQuil. Combined with my inability to rest enough to have a proper sleep cycle, this lead to some interesting, yet fragmented dreams.
I dreamt I was exploring Jurassic Park. I was out in the wild, and worried that dinosaurs would find me delicious. I remember trying to get a jeep working, only it was akin to a puzzle from Bioshock, where I was attempting to connect tubes of gasoline. While this was happening, many other cars drove by and honked their horns. The idea of being discovered by the noise caused me to run for my life. I awoke to find myself sitting up, a literal mountain of pillows and blankets that I did not remember assembling holding me in place.
Falling back into sleep, I found myself inside a small building with other survivors. They were playing music and had all of the lights on. I pleaded with them to stay quiet and to hide in the darkness, lest the Velociraptors discover our location and pick the locks, but they weren’t hearing any of my cries. Frantically I tried to send the dinosaurs an E-Mail, trying to reason with them and stop them from asking a Tyrannosaurus Rex to smash it’s way into the tiny building and kill is all, because I did not have insurance to fix such a disaster, you see.
Below is a letter addressed to the dinosaurs that I woke up to find half typed on my computer:
During this evening I got to know the cough syrup on a first name basis, and recall lovingly telling the bottle that it was the only person I could truly rely on. Unfortunately sometime around four (I don’t know if it was AM or PM, because my mind was in no condition to decipher whether or not the tiny dot on my alarm clock meant day or night, and therefore only had the number to go by), the medicine abandoned me by running out.
The next few hours were intense agony. I dreamed that I had a brain tumor. Then I was Wreck-It Ralph. Then I used my newfound powers to take over the world. Back at Jurassic Park, I hastily built a time machine. I used this machine to travel forwards in time and try to convince myself that wrecking the entire planet would be a bad idea. I remember thinking “only time will tell If I made a difference here today” as I returned to my own time period. Around this time I replaced the cough syrup with Jaegermeister.
When it was time to call out of work for night two, I don’t even remember if I followed proper procedure. I remember telling somebody on the phone that I didn’t have insurance and wanted to die, and that the universe was in danger. I may or may not have also mentioned dinosaurs. This is why my job assumes that I have a drinking problem. Upon hanging up the phone, I rinsed my mouth out with store brand mouthwash and spit into an empty Poland Springs bottle. I don’t even know when I added that part to the routine, and the automation of the act scared me. I threw the bottle across the room and into my closet. Then I crawled off of the couch and scooped the bottle up, apologizing and begging it to forgive me. I explained to the bottle that I’m not normally a violent man, and that I needed all of the help I could get at this point, were I to defeat teeth.
I woke up in my closet a few hours later, using my dirty laundry as a blanket, and truly believed that I was hiding from the raptors, and had to remain perfectly still and quiet. The next fifteen minutes were spent staring across the room at my alarm clock, watching the time pass. Somehow I got the idea in my head that since it felt like I had been watching the clock for hours, that fifteen minutes must actually equal out to fifteen hours, and surely the raptors would have moved on by now.
As I drifted in and out of sleep, I started getting frustrated. I had not dared attempt eating or smoking while my teeth hurt. I know that sounds like bullshit. A fat person turning down food is about as likely as a hentai game being nominated for an animation award. It’s true, though. I was more frustrated about NEEDING a cigarette. I would wake up annoyed and hurting, and punch the couch through teary eyes. At one point I think I may have broken the couch, because I felt the arm rest give way to my onslaught. In my condition, however, I panicked, thinking I had broken my hand. I began sobbing, like a baby, at the idea of being unable to work and pay my bills with a broken hand. I dreamed that I was forced to work for the dinosaurs, helping them to find humans to eat. They had a rather elaborate scheme, actually. I would pretend to be a survivor, showing others to safety zones. The Raptors would dig giant pits with construction equipment, and I would trap the people in the holes, allowing the dinosaurs to pile in like a ball pit and tear the people apart.
Trying to eat more aspirin with shaking, nervous hands, I dropped the bottle and spilled it’s remaining contents across my carpet. It was at this point which I realized that among the over the counter pain reliever, there were a few random Percocet. I must have been using the bottle to store them and forgotten entirely. There was no way to tell how many of them I had eaten during my NyQuil and alcohol fueled dream session, but I am sure they helped contribute to my out of mind experience. With renewed vigor, I devised a plan to escape my ill fate. I would work hard to rise among the ranks of the dinosaur army, until they trusted me enough to allow me to use the construction equipment. In my free time I would use the machinery to dig a tunnel to freedom, and escape the island underground. Being unable to dig in the ocean, I would instead tunnel straight down, through the earth and into China, taking precautions to skirt around the magma filled center of the earth.
I don’t know how successful this escape strategy would have been, because around this time I was taken to the emergency room and given proper treatment and a lecture about having my wisdom teeth removed. All I could do was hold my jawline and mumble about insurance, but at least I was finally safe from the evil clutches of Jurassic Park. Upon going back to work with a still swollen jaw and doped up on medication, I was written up for attendance in accordance with Del Haize Incorporated’s new policies. Perhaps mankind is the true monster after all.