posted
As an ex-dental nurse I can confirm that extractions are hard work. I've seen a dentist practically with his knee on someones chest trying to get out someones impacted wisdom tooth...
You have my sympathies London, I assume they told you to stay off hot drinks for today etc?
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posted
I had my upper wisdoms wrenched out earlier in the year. It didn't hurt when they were doing it, thanks to the plentiful anaesthetic, but it did feel a bit weird to have two large South African hands removing things from my head. The wounds didn't stop bleeding for two weeks.
I think they're supposed to be taking the bottom two out at some point, so I've still got that to look forward to.
Job ends in a month, so I'll be moving on like The Littlest Hobo to help out another stranger in need. Maybe even consider 'real' job with an actual salary.
sucks
Miserable as shit at the moment. Want to hibernate.
posted
Off topic, I'm afraid but I'm not going to be around now until well into the New Year (still offline at home and not back in work until January) - so have a great Christmas and New Year, 'one and all'.
posted
Is 'Dental Nurse' a euphemism for prostitute, you know, like 'Beauty Therapist’ or ‘Masseuse? And if so, does ‘extraction’ mean copraphilia?
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quote:Originally posted by Darryn.R: I'm stunned by how often they pull teeth in the UK.
My mom explained this by saying she was given the choice to have them pulled or drilled, and as a child, the drill was just too scary. Back then they also used topical cocaine as part of the procedure.
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posted
I have a rocks and sucks story. All in one, like a pizza blowjob. Last Tuesday (true), I was coming back from London on a train. I wasn’t feeling very well. I had this tummy bug that’s going around. Anyway, upshot is I hadn’t eaten properly for two days and I drank heavily on the train.
Barry might like to know that I went to Bodean’s BBQ pit on his instruction. Pulled pork. And then left! That’s a Bodean’s joke.
By the time I got off the train I was wobbly Bob. I walked through the fabulous entranceway to Bristol that is Templemeads station, the automatic doors swooshing like muscled air. Thisisbristol. They said. Homeofwinners. And I took my place in the queue of people waiting for a lift. And all of a sudden a lady yawed over my right shoulder as if sea-bound and puked in the gutter. Some very nearly almost hit one of my shoes. And perhaps the microbes did. Anyway, she fell over and she had no knickers on. I had a great view of her growler. It was trimmed and purple. Like a liverish aubergine. Shiny but flesh.
Being drunk, I couldn’t help but stare.
Her husband took offence to me staring. Not to his wife rolling around with her undercarriage out like a playful airplane. But to me taking an innocent peep. And my wife pulled up in the car. And as she opened the door, he opened his mouth and I couldn’t quite close it in time.
He called me a dirty **** looker. That took some explaining.
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posted
Also: dirty **** looker? Weirdo. What’s dirty about looking at a **** ? Or was the **** itself dirty? It didn’t look a dirty **** . Although he looked rough as arseholes.
quote:Originally posted by ben: Off topic, I'm afraid but I'm not going to be around now until well into the New Year (still offline at home and not back in work until January) - so have a great Christmas and New Year, 'one and all'.
posted
rocks willie hutch. sucks my funding got cut. i'm not sure what's going on. i applied for new grant. board reviews in march. funding runs out in february. not sure if anyone is willing to bridge the gap or even to find funds within the university.
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Sorry to hear about the funding though. Is this like a government department trying to backtrack after the Senate rules to impose limits on genetic modification experiments? Only it's too late..you can't give up now because you're so close, so as the special bio weapons soldiers move in wearing hazmats and carring ultra light automatic weapons, you grab your samples and drive in your custom pickup to the other lab where you carry on your work.
The government think everything is okay, until one evening a janitor accidentally knocks over the sample cooling unit in the bio-experiments live archive, only to discover that instead of a standard steel sample can, the unit contains a six pack of Coors.
Immediately, maverick agent Theo Wichinski and his new sidekick Eric Koltz are put onto track down what happened to the missing sample. Theo is a wise cracking divorcee from Chicago, who always carries a picture of his daughter, and his treasured harmonica along with his customised nine and agency ID. Koltz on the other hand, is by the book, a young dude fresh out of agency school. Top marks, real potential, but not a free thinker, and is uncomfortable with Theo's rule breaking.
A paper trail road trip from a mysterious fire at a known crack den in Washington leads them South. On the way, they bond, and the further South they get, the more Koltz learns to appreciate the need to follow your heart as well as your head. One night, after he's been drinking with Theo, he gets out of control, and almost in an attempt to prove how Theo's relaxed approach to the job is fundamentally wrong (in his opinion), he allows himself to be seduced by a mysterious woman, who bites him during sex, but is found dead the next morning, half naked by the payphone. Only the bite doesn't appear to heal properly, and Theo begins to worry for Koltz's health...
As the duo get nearer the truth, and enter the seedy underworld of nashvilles' biotech blackmarket they realise that maybe you've been rogue long before the funding was cut, and that your experiments have been more fruitful, and more evil, than anybody could ever have imagined.
Is it like that? If so, it sounds cool.
[ 22.12.2005, 10:37: Message edited by: Dr. Benway ]
posted
man i fucking wish. its more a case of "keep working, keep working, maybe i'll convince them i'm worth keeping." when in the back of my head i'm thinking "jesus, why do i want to stay? this isn't fun, this is hard, my life is nonexistent, it would be easier if i just went home, regrouped and went somewhere else".
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quote:Originally posted by ben: Your Christmas wonderland will now comprise a clammy interior landscape of gristle and fucked flesh
Oh Ben, you have no idea just how true this is. As for the tooth, my family keep pointing at me and saying 'dry socket!!!!' and laughing. I do not know what a dry socket is and can confirm that this is not a problem I tend to suffer from too often. I am rinsing with salt water and the bits of gum are all closing up and swelling and rising around it, like when land rises up around a grave. I am petrified that they will close up completely with a small slimy bit of food, a tomato seed perhaps, trapped inside it. The food will slowly liquefy and moulder inside its gumflesh coffin, leading to a tomato-flavoured abscess; or, perhaps worse, the seed will find its gumflesh bedding favourable growing conditions, and soon a tiny leaf will penetrate; a tomato-vine grow inside my skull; a ripe fruit nestling in the space where my molar once was.
Not a good Christmas, to be honest. Roll on 2006. Which has just given me an idea for a(n extremely obvious) thread...
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