We all know that women are the more emotional sex. Some women cry while watching "The Notebook." Some women cry when they can no longer fit into their favorite pair of jeans. And some women cry when they are PMSing and there is no chocolate in sight (actually they don't cry, but rather murder at that point). Whatever the reason may be, we accept that fact that girls cry (fairly easy and often) and boys don’t. Or at least that is what we are taught to believe - that boys don’t cry. However I’m here to tell you that in fact they do, even if they refuse to admit it. We joke around with our buddies and tell them to let it all out, to go have a good mancry so they feel better. The term "mancry" was coined for a good reason though. Guys cry in complete seclusion because society has ingrained in us since birth that crying is for girls and REAL men don’t cry. Although I certainly don’t walk around with my heart on my sleeve and blubbering like a wet mess, I see no shame in crying. Grief is an expression that you loved well. If a man’s eyes well up on a rare occasion and a woman considers him a "pussy" for that, well then perhaps she feels that way because nobody has ever loved her enough to shed a tear over her.
For most guys, it is a very rare event, but for me there have been a few occasions that have sparked a snowflake to appear in my eye...
- Giving the eulogy at my best friend’s funeral.
- Making the decision of putting my childhood dog down after 18 years.
- Watching my sister walk down the isle in her wedding dress.
- Having my girlfriend break-up with me as I was about to propose.
Did you notice the pattern here? All of these events sparked a tearful reaction in me because they all had to deal with matters of the heart. They all had to do with me losing someone I loved. Like my Bulldog, I too am tough on the outside, soft on the inside. I can deal with a certain amount of emotional pain, but once it surpasses my threshold, I may start to develop that lump in my throat and that burning sensation behind my eyes. Although when it comes to physical pain, I can take anything you throw at me! Afterall, I'm an amature MMA fighter. They don't come any tougher than that, right? WRONG!
Growing up I was a Crest kid. I never even had a single cavity until I was 20 years old! At the time, I had the cavity filled by our family dentist who was old skool and apparently not the best. The guy didn't give me enough Novocain even when I told him I was in immense pain and could feel everything he was doing! I sat in that chair sweating and squirming. Praying and cursing. From that day on, I was scared of the dentist and rightfully so. Still, like a good boy, I went to see a (new) dentist every 6 months for checkups because nobody wants a dirty mouth full of rotten teeth and halitosis. As the years went by everything was fine and dandy. It was all rainbows and butterflies in my mouth, that was until I developed a tooth ache this past weekend. But not just any minor tooth ache, one that shoots pain the whole way down your neck, bitch slaps you across the face and punches you in your your eye socket! Pain so severe that I contemplated pulling a Tom Hank's "Cast Away" move and yanking that sucker myself, just to end my suffering. Long story short, I called my dentist to make an appointment in which he told me with a "oh this is going to be fun" smirk on his face that I needed to get a root canal.
A root canal? A ROOT CANAL! How could someone who only had one cavity in their entire life all the sudden need a f-ing root canal? That's what bad people who don't brush their teeth get done, not Crest kids like myself! Apparently though the cavity I had filled years ago had fallen apart and now the only way to repair it was to do an evil root canal.
It should be illegal for one human to inflict that much pain on another human. It's what horror movies like "Saw" are made of. I swear I've never felt that much pain in my life! Kick me repeatedly in the balls, put bamboo shoots under my fingernails, or make me watch a marathon of "The View" on TV, but whatever you do please don't let me endure another root canal! It's beyond torturous and nearly made this grown man weep. No matter how much Novocain the dentist gave me, it didn't help. He was jabbing and digging at a live nerve for a solid hour! The sickening smell of tooth and bone being drilled and grinded. Tooth and bone fragments flying onto my chest and blood squirting out the sides of my face. Bits and pieces of live nerve being pulled from my jaw and laid out on a stainless steel dish before me. Would he later serve this to me as an appetizer? If he did, it wouldn't surprise me because I felt like I was part of a twisted Jeffery Dahmer experiment.
Of course the nervous, rookie dentist assistant wasn't helping the situation either. Her hands were shaking while fumbling with tools. Apologizing profusely for her mistakes and constantly asking for someone else to help her wasn't exactly comforting to hear. My body actually began to physically tremble from the pain. I wasn't about to cry! Surely it couldn't get any worse, but then it would! By the time the root canal was over, I got up feeling dizzy with the back of my shirt soaked in sweat. I wanted to run out of his office, with arms flailing and screaming, vowing never to return. Oh course I didn't do that. I manned up. He extends his hand and says "Well that wasn't so bad now, was it?" He's joking, but it took everything in my power not to punch him right in the suck hole for that smartass remark. But instead of a handshake, I just need a hug...and maybe a good mancry to make me feel better.
For now though, I'm enjoying my prescribed pain medicine - Vicodin. It puts me in a happy place. A place far, far away from the depraved dentist chair. And last night while I was high on Vicoden, I saw my favorite pair of blue eyes smiling at me in my sleep. It was nearly enough to make a grown man weep.
No comments:
Post a Comment