(until the next one, that is,) was on Tuesday. Tuesday just happened to be the last day of July – but my meal wasn’t July. It wasn’t Julie, either, so that’s beside the point and not even coincidental – though I concede it might be a conspiracy or possibly – at a push – an omen.
It all began with toothache on Monday. Aching teeth don’t usually presage dinner for dragons, so that was also not coincidental, merely providential. Aching teeth need to be treated. My good friend WyldWyverne who lives down South, under and between the Mallee, has made some sort of alliance with the Fey in this regard. (It may have involved a measure of bribery.) She now sheds her teeth painlessly, as needed, and is working hard on patenting a cheap sort of bridge that allows teeth to be added over time. It will be one-size-fits-all and will cost no more than $7.50. She told me so herself today.
I, on the other hand, don’t live under the Mallee trees. Neither have I sold my soul to the Fey in some arcane contract (Ok – I admit I don’t really know if WyldWyverne sold her soul. I might be talking out of turn here).
Parked, as I am, on the periphery of a large city, I still have Norms inflicted on me – social Norms, they call themselves, though I have great doubts about how social they really are. Norms often come with Conventions, or so people say. More likely they come for Conventions. I don’t think I’d like to attend a Convention of Norms. It must get rather confusing. I haven’t ever heard of a Norm with a surname in this context, or a second name or even a nick name. They’re all just Norms. But I digress. Norms also Dictate, and the ones inflicted on me dictated that I should visit a Dentist. So, having little choice, due to my bump of locality, I complied.
I saw one Dentist on Monday, who seemed OK. He was gentle enough, and suggested I see another Dentist the next day for treatment that included gas. I decided that if dental treatment could be construed as “having a gas” perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad, seeing as how that’s supposed to mean it’s fun. Not much is fun with an aching tooth, even if you’re a dragon.
I spent Monday Night waiting for Tuesday with the tooth screaming at me very loudly and piercingly. It made sleep difficult. Eventually the time came round for my appointment with the second Dentist. And by that time my stomach was grumbling because the sore tooth made it difficult to eat. The Dentist settled me in the special chair and wheeled in the gas cylinders behind me. Then, she and the nurse whispered behind me. I could hear every word they said, because dragons have exceptionally good hearing. And the whisper went something like this:
“How do you tell if the cylinder has enough gas in it?”
“I don’t know.”
“Wait – I think like this.”
“OK – so how do we change the cylinder?”
This whispering behind me put me on edge. Dragons know a lot about gas. They know which ones make fire and which ones make you fall asleep and which ones make you stop breathing if you have too much. It’s all part of Dragon Lore. So, knowing that if a dragon got too much of one kind of gas and not enough of the other kind of gas it would be a Bad Thing, I turned round and stared hard at the Dentist and her helper and asked a question.
“Does your apparatus have a safety feature that automatically switches off the Nitrous Oxide if the Oxygen runs out?” I asked.
Their eyes grew big and they said:
“It sounds like you know more about this than we do.”
It was the wrong answer. I think they tried to add a “yes”, but I was hungry, and was beginning to think that maybe this gas thing was a bad idea. After all, one wants Competence in those who administer gas – especially gas that can stop you from breathing. It also bothered me that they did not have a simple device that measures blood oxygen levels. Even dragons need oxygen because it’s part of the fire equation (You know – heat source+ flammable thing + O2 = fire). However, being as I am, a Gracious dragon, I decided to give them a chance as I did want the aching tooth fixed.
The Dentist placed the mask over my nose and told me to breathe deeply. I did so, using my best Yoga technique taught me by my Yoga Teacher, the Great Swami Margaret, and, thinking deeply on the deep words of the Illustrious Grand Master Deepak, I remembered to say to myself, “So” on the inward breath and “Hum” on the outward breath.
Nothing happened.
After a little while of nothing happening, I said as much to the Dentist
“Oh, we haven’t started yet, ” she answered, thereby simultaneously increasing my anxiety and making my stomach grumble.
After some more whispering, she said they were starting, and asked me if I could smell the gas. Now, I work in an environment (yes, dragons have to work these days – it’s tragic, really) where I have access to Nitrous Oxide all the time. I switch it on to test the machine I use every morning. While some sources may tell you that this gas has a slightly sweet smell, I can tell you that you’d have to be somewhere other than a hospital or dental suite to notice this. NO2 has NO smell to speak of. I said as much to the Dentist, and wondered if she’d learnt anything at all when they taught her about using gas. I began to salivate ever so slightly.
Eventually, I felt the tell-tale tingling in the extremities that heralds the onset of anaesthesia. The Dentist asked if she could inject local anaesthetic. I told her I’d rather not let her near me at all, but decided maybe I should allow it. She administered the injection. For all my extremities might have tingled a little, I still felt exceedingly not anaesthetised and not relaxed. She waited a while, and I tried some more yoga breathing and “So-Hums”. She checked if the injection had worked. My cheek was numb, my tongue was numb and, yes, even my gum was numb – but the sore tooth was sore and felt the slightest touch.
I said as much to the Dentist.
She said, “Oh we can’t get the tooth numb because of the infection. The pH is wrong and the Lignocaine won’t work.”
Now, I am a dragon. Dragons know these things very very well. It’s all in Dragon Lore. We know it backwards into the past and forwards into the future, because if you have Teeth that Hurt, such knowledge is essential to prevent people from torturing you just because you’re a dragon and because they think they can, and thinking that you will do nothing because the Norms say so. The Norms say it’s not polite to contradict Dentists.
Then she said the next thing:
“I can give you some more local in the angle of the jaw.”
That was a stupid thing to say.
“Will it numb the tooth?” I asked – because that is the only thing that mattered and I already knew the answer. I had to test her to see if there was any reason to spare her at this point. I was HUNGRY, dammit.
“No – but…,” she said, which was the silliest thing she could have said, because it proved she was definitely brainless and not worth saving.
In one move I tore the gas mask from my face and leapt from the chair. I downed her with a juicy snap of her bones.
Satisfying.
(Ketchup isn’t necessary at all – I don’t care what the quotes on FaceBook say.)
That was my last decent meal. If I chance to meet anyone called Norm I shall consider them dessert.
Yesterday I felt much better as the antibiotics started working properly.
This morning I saw an Endodontist…
Dwysted 