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grip, rock, and rip

So much better today.

My only fear now is that some destitute medical waste dump scavenging soul might trip and fall into the gaping cavity of the fugging GIGANTIC wisdom tooth Dr. M. ripped from the back 40 of my jaw at 7:00 am yesterday morning.

There were novocaine swabs, and exchanges of congenial banter, and needles sliding into gums, and pliers of various sizes employed to grip, rock, and rip. Other than the pressure of a gloved hand weilding a medically-approved monkeywrench in my mouth, and the odd but pain-free sound of rending gum tissue, the procedure was pretty painless...until I asked to see the tooth.

While you might think you want to see the tooth - especially if you're one of those curiously unsqueamish Discovery Health Channel devotees prone to muttering "oh my god that is so cool" while your husband averts his horror-stricken face from the sight of plastic surgeons inspecting three-feet-long breasts, or cannulas suctioning litres of bloody fat into transparent containers, or the gory splendor of a hairy teratoma - you do not want to see the tooth!

If only I could pull an ETERNAL SUNSHINE of the SPOTLESS MIND on that image. Delete. Erase. Undo.

Anyway, I'm much better today. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to grind forbidden tortilla chips into a pile of savory pixie stix grit.

BLOG PS. hey GM, your comments signature linked to the diaryland error page, so am not sure who you are, but thanks for your kind words.

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