“Doctor, Doctor….give me the news”

Fule for Thought

 

A while back, I wrote a column on the Pistols, the world’s worst fastball team. On that same terrible team, was a man who helped save me from the common fear we have of dentists. Until this time, I had a good, healthy fear of dentists due to some truly awful experiences in Banff. 

Suffice to say, that my old dentist didn’t believe you if you told him you weren’t frozen, and that you could still feel the deep drilling into your jawbone and out again! Len (false name) was the catcher on our team, and once I knew he was a dentist, I was determined to see him. I mean, what could be worse than a Black and Decker drill and saw working away at your teeth and gums?

I went to see Dr. Len for a check-up, and was crushed to find out I needed to  have my wisdom teeth removed. I quickly thought of the “concentration camp-like” feel of my other dentist, and agreed to go through with it. In two short weeks, I would have all four of these “mystery” teeth out.  

On the day of the procedure I was floored when Len would ask every now and then if I was okay. My last dentist was never concerned about this. In fact, he seemed to get a gleam in his eye, when he saw fear in a kid! This time, though, when I told Len I could still “feel” things, he believed me!  

“Okay, Pat … I’m going to give you some gas after this one last needle. I’ll be right back, I just have to check on another patient,” he said. 

Now, I had never had “laughing gas” before, and when he said he’d be right back, I took him at his word. As soon as he left, I began to breathe as fast and as deeply as I could. If he WAS coming right back, I wanted as much gas as I could get! I inhaled/exhaled as fast as I could, all the while remembering he’d be right back. He wasn’t. After close to 15 minutes of hyper ventilating, he returned to find me absolutely “polluted”!  

I was drooling, giggling, and trying ( I think) to sing him a song! I believe it was “Singin’ in the Rain” … WHY I would be doing a Broadway tune is beyond me, but I DO know that Len could have hit me with a 2X4, and I’d have been happy! It still is one of my most enjoyable memories … I have rarely felt THAT good.

That same Summer, I was working at the Banff Centre and was telling one of my co-workers Roy, about this great experience I had with the gas.  

“Oh, that’s nothin’” said Roy. “I worked in a plant that filled the tanks with that stuff.  Every Friday night, me and another guy would sneak a couple tanks home, seal off one of my rooms with towels and tape, and open up the tanks!”  

THESE guys were using the canisters for their own HAPPY HOUR! Roy said that it was a great way to start a TGIF night, but you had to remember to NEVER light a cigarette!

Years later, I had scheduled a certain medical “procedure” that many men have. Hint: it starts with the letter V! The walk through Cambridge to the hospital was a sad and lonely one. I felt like I was walking the Last Mile. In a way, I guess I was, as I would never be QUITE the same guy! My first sentence to my doctor was, “TELL me you had a good night’s sleep last night! The last thing I need is for you to have been out partying it up, so the old nerves are a bit SHAKY!”  

He reassured me, and then asked if I was nervous. NERVOUS? What could POSSIBLY give him THAT idea? Was it the look of FEAR on my face … my tears … my slightly strained and higher voice? (Actually I think my voice is STILL a bit higher since then!) And my students HAVE told me that my voice “cracks” a lot!! He had an IV hooked up to my wrist and said that the medicine going in, would feel like I had just had three or four beers!  Three or four BEERS? … It felt like three or four KEGS!! I (again) giggled and snickered through the whole procedure … it was one of the happiest things I’ve ever experienced … better than DISNEYLAND! Even when we were all done and I was phoning Deb, I was still giggling. Did I need a ride? Nah, I think I’ll jog home … it’s a beautiful morning, the birdies are singing … I feel GREAT!  

“Don’t go anywhere Pat, I’ll be right there,” she said, and before I knew it, she pulled up in a pink Cadillac JUST like Elvis’s  (I told you that stuff was REALLY good)!

My last medical “event” was more recent, and I won’t go into the details as to what it was.  Let’s just say the “preparation” was worse than the procedure, and that, if I had a pedometer on me then, I would’ve racked up a LOT of kilometers! Again, the medicine they gave me to sleep was great … I slept like a baby, and when I was done, I actually DID ask the nurse to read me a story!

 

(“Fule for Thought” is a slice of life humourous column that will appear in the Strathmore Times, written by long-time resident, town councillor, high school teacher, coach, husband and father of two – Pat Fule. If you would like to get in touch with Pat, you can send him an e-mail at Pat.fule@shaw.ca)