I'm thinking of writing a self-help book called "Everything I Need to Know about Life I Learned by Not Going to a Dentist when My Filling Fell Out in the Autumn and Waiting Until Even After the Back of Tooth
#19 Crumbled Away in the Yuletide, Yea, Verily, Until Acute Necrosis of
the Pulp had Set In and, In The Dawning of the New Year, Found Myself Looking Up at a Very Long Needle and, Two Hours Later, Down the Four Freshly-Drilled Tunnels of a Root Canal." Catchy, yes? The point being
about procrastination etc., you understand.
The yellow and white pegs sticking up out of my debauched pestle are, I
think, the handles of a couple of the future-primitive finger-drill
spikes with pointed, flexible, embristled shafts that go down into the
drilled-out nerve holes and rip out all the nerve/blood vessel roots.
Hell-o theah!
And then we zoom in for a view of the excavation:
All photos courtesy of the camera in my cell phone. Featured
grille-work courtesy of David Clifford Brown, BDS, MDS, MSD and, in my
opinion, the finest sawtooth a fellow could hope for.
