Where's that flesh-eating bacteria when you need them?
I will shun relaying the tale of the 4 wisdom teeth removed by a Marine Corps dentist who hated squids.... and the two weeks of agony suffering through what is termed dry sockets as the ship floated upon the ocean, far from dental care and with only a corpsman to prescribe worthless pain killers that did not ease the intense agony one iota.
Nope, won't tell of having to attempt sleep sitting upright in a chair since the extra bloodpressure resulting from laying prone sent waves of agony coursing through the brain until retching ensued.
Will not bore the herd with a tale of some of the worst suffering a young Coot ever underwent... unrelenting pain akin to a swift kick in nuts.
Day after day of being able to consume only liquids and even with that barely able to keep it down due to the constant retching bordering upon vomiting.
Won't mention being required to stand watches and do a day's work despite high fever and, at times, semi-passing out, landing upon the steel deck and suffering numerous contusions.
I suppose that two weeks of agony lent credence to the Navy advertising of that era; "It's more than a job, it's an adventure."
Yeah. Adventuresome. Gagging on the constant flow of blood and puss... another reason I had to attempt sleep in an upright position.
After two weeks of unrelenting pain, an incredible amount of non-stop pain, we were due to arrive in-port at the San Diego Naval Base where I could rush off to the dentist for assistance.
Settled into the chair in the berthing area and got a few hours sleep, feeling a little better but not a much more than prior days, but knowing relief was in site allowed a little more sleep than before.
However, upon awakening...... the day we were to pull into port.... wouldn't yah' know it.... the pain was gone. Totally. Swelling had subsided. No blood or puss upon my chest.
I WAS CURED!!!!!!!!!!!!
Was able to eat solid food that morning. No pain!!!!!
RELEIF!!!!!!!!!! Hallelujah!!!!!
Didn't have to go to the dentist.
Part of me was thrilled, yes. But, the irony was obvious.
But, no.... Old Coot will not bore thee with yet another true tale of the trials and tribulations of lower-class white trash fumbling and stumbling through life.
Never did go back to a Navy-provided dentist.
Oh, did I mention the "dentist" used a hammer and chisel to break apart the two lower wisdom teeth? Three corpsman held me down while the Marine dentist climbed atop the dental chair, placing his knees and lower legs upon the arm rests as thunderous blows rained down upon the chisel impacting those teeth, shattering them into smaller pieces that could be picked out through the laceration made upon the gums.
Wasn't a good two weeks for the Young Coot.
But, I survived. Mentally scarred, yes. But, survive I did.
