Tuesday, May 6, 2008
"Death Be Not Proud"
I have a problem. Well. More than one perhaps... as neither my nose or butt are as diminutive as my bank account... My cheeks and world view only achieve rosiness with artificial assistance... My Saturday nights are as exciting as a successful toilet flush and my ability to get a job is about as effective as my cats' ability to catch birds from inside the house. (Not for lack of trying!)
But the problem I am addressing here is dental work. At one time I likened dental work to evidential mortality... Somehow bringing in the idea of teeth and skeletons and death.... Tooth loss being one less thing to leer with from across the divide. But it has been maybe 15 years since I've been so... philosophical. Now its just pain I evaluate. I don't think I have much fear of death... but pain? I am a total wimp with pain. Maybe that is what people are referring to when they bring up fear of death. Give me morphine when you give me death, is all I can say.
My jaw just does not go sufficiently numb. I would pity my dentist if I had any pity left over (from myself).... as I sit like a slobbering insect splayed and impaled with a dental tool. Particularly today I kept thinking of that movie Marathon Man. I'm not sure if I've seen the whole movie... I don't remember what the movie is about. Just that one scene has stuck with me and probably with others also--- Dustin Hoffman cringing in a chair under the assault of a high whine.