Showing posts with label Fire Commissioner James T. Joyce. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Fire Commissioner James T. Joyce. Show all posts

Saturday, November 07, 2009

I'ts Good to Be Me and Molar Free - on the lower left Jaw




About 8:45 yesterday, I was offered a piece of delicious Wrigley's Big Red, by one the Leo National Honor Society Members who were the proud center piece of our Veterans Observances at Leo High School. Big Red is a particularly tastey cinnamon flavored jaw popping dental delight that wakes up the flavor buds and on the second bite down splits the last molar on the lower-left jaw of my periodontal challenged mug. The Big Red jingle is sung by Hip-hop artiste Ne-Yo -no less. It comes back to me - repeatedly. Click my post title and share!

I walk off from the National Honor Society Men of Leo and discard the jagged half piece of molar and try to maintain a shred of dignity. A shred is all I can supply.

Fox 32's Pat Elwood interviewed these fine young gentlemen and featured them on the 12P.M. Fox News! Huge, Patrick! Huge! Back to me. The Center of MY universe.

Toxic Abcess, Batman! The Pain was better than 24-Hour Loop Tape of Pete Seeger doing The Lion Sleeps Tonight.

Steady On, Hickey! As New Jersey Governor Elect Christie might blubber, "Man Up!"

I had four hours of minor details and smiling welcomes to Leo Men who sacrificed limbs and souls all over the globe and shuffle with canes and some strollers to Honor Our Fallen.

A quick Memorare* was answered and I manged to make myself useful during the wonderful and moving ceremony.

I am as Yellow as a Duck's Foot and Weep with Self-Pity When it Rains too Hard. Low thresh-hold for pain. South siders and other testosterone rich males have a feline metaphor that causes some to recoil in indignation and feigned solidarity with women.

Not this Cupcake. I am a P . . .pain-reactive hysteric.

When I could I called Commonwealth Insurance for a patient 'What's the Plan Say? Directive.

1. Call Us

2. See your appointed Commonwealth Dental Heath Provider -

3. Have Approved Dentist refer you case to an Approved Oral Surgeon.

Done, I call Call Dr. Fang in Oak Lawn learn that Dr. Fang has recently shed his mortal husk and sleeps with Counsellors and Kings. " You're Kidding! He was a young guy, what did he die of?"

County Kerry voice ( Brosna or Scartaglen) '"T'was nothing serious. The new dentist is Dr. Mara Harry and she will be in on Monday, so."

"Can you ask her to call in an antibiotic and a pain prescription."

"I can not and she can not send a prescription without first seeing you. Monday at 10A.M.?"

I agreed but three hours later of Feliniesque dream sequence encounters with normal people un-hallucinated with a broken and obviously impacted molar and gums on fire changed my tune! My breath must have been as delicate as barfly on twenty Old Styles,eighty Happy Cossack Vodkas, Two Packs of Winston Reds, Tthree Slim Jims and a kiss from Fat Helen at the end of the bar. I needed theeth out!

Back To the good folks at Commonwealth -"Please hold and the first available associate will be with you shortly - Loop Music! Ne Yo!~ The Big Red Guy!

"So Sick"

Mmmm mmm yeah
Do do do do do do do-do
Ohh Yeah

Gotta change my answering machine
Now that I'm alone
Cause right now it says that we
Can't come to the phone
And I know it makes no sense
Cause you walked out the door
But it's the only way I hear your voice anymore
(it's ridiculous)
It's been months
And for some reason I just
(can't get over us)
And I'm stronger than this
(enough is enough)
No more walking round
With my head down
I'm so over being blue
Crying over you

And I'm so sick of love songs
So tired of tears . . .


Tru Dat, Muh Brutha! The Big Red tune keeps coming back to me. I am getting more dizzy, loopy Twilight Zoned by the second. The exposed nerve and toxins within are burning the fuse set to blow any minute. I want to find a pliers and do it myself.

. . .gotta change my answering machine
Now that I'm alone
Cause right now it says that we
Can't come to the phone



Slam with the phone! Back to the event - Veteran Activist Rochelle Crump thanks all groups and all the veterans. I make zombie courtesies with all and sundry. I call my Cousin Gary in the far south western burbs. Gary is a Marquette/Loyola Dental School Graduate! DDS! The Leo National Honor Society guys are escorting the WWII Vets back into the cafeteria which to them was the Old Chapel of St. Leo. The Kids always make me proud. Even the faceless, nameless gent who gave me the Big Red!

Script Prescription! Pain Killers & Antibiotics! Yesterday! Maintain, Pooh C! Maintain. I tell the Principal and former Fire Commissioner Jimmy Joyce (Leo 1960) about the bum tooth. Jim Joyce had an entire warehouse fall on him and broke literally every bone in his body and yet his eyes betrayed no irony or contempt when he registered the relative pain of a bum tooth. Great guy. I excuse myself and head back to my cubicle.

I call and leave the details with Laurie and a few minutes later Cousin Gary, DDS calls back. "This sounds serious get over here."

I do and it is. Gary X-rays the jaw and immediately loads four big-ass needles with Novocaine, dabs on the local as he asks me about the kids - all doing great, as are Gary and Joanne's two. In go the needles - Deeper than Max Weismann. Soon my mug is number than MSNBC.

"You'll feel some pressure."

"Nah Ahh Blid, Garee!"

Using what looks like a high-end pliers Gary makes two deft twists and long roots and bloody plaque get tossed on the tray.

"That's it pal. Happy Thanksgiving! Say hi to your Mom and Dad."

At the very least.

Gary wads up some gauze and tucks it into the gum-trench where a busted molar and impacted Wisdom Bucker had been extracted. I am numb, but what's new?

Thank God for Family. Thank God for Big Red! Thank God for Ne-Yo!

I am very blessed.

. . . Longer with Big Red!

*Remember, Oh Gracious Virgin Mary/that never was it known that anyone who fled to thy protection . . .