Teeth of Wisdom, (cont.)

Part the Second: When last we left our intrepid dental duo, they were traversing their way across the roof of Parking Garage 4. The weather was partly cloudy and cool, with a dew point of...something. (I could do research to get the exact dew point details, but that would take time. Time that could be better utilized toward injecting drama into an otherwise lackluster occurrence)

With practiced skill, Ma pushed the correct buttons in the small yet amazingly minuscule elevator. This was followed by walking, another elevator, and yet more walking. Through it all, the young molaric victim carried himself and his semi-loaded backpack with the ease of manner bespeaking someone who has no idea how much and how long he will hurt.

Upon achieving the desk of oral surgery, Ma announced to the deskish lady that they had arrived and the son needed a protime. Without a moment to rest or even catch a quick nap, the pair was sent back to the elevator and onto another floor, where they promptly got lost.

Now, some would consider 'getting lost' to be a bad thing, but not Ma. One person's 'lost' is another person's opportunity to take a quick tour of the medical facility. And for our dear Driver-of-the-Lurching-Lincoln, it was neither, actually. Getting 'lost' was simply another way in which to display her great humility. For example, at no time did Ma shout the following words, "SHE TOLD ME TO TAKE ELEVATOR 'L' TO 2nd FLOOR AND GO DOWN A LONG, LONG HALL....SO WHERE IS THE STUPID, STUPID LAB!?"

Eventually the laboratory was targeted and entered. THAT was when Ma was introduced to two colorful characters. ('introduced' is rather too nice a word. 'Subjected' would be more accurate) Seating in the lab waiting room was arranged in such a way as to practically promote the touching of knees between peoples of vastly differing politics, faiths and even disparate clothing materials.

Within inches from Ma, a father and son wiled away their time discussing promising fishing bait. Chicken livers, fish eyes, as well as puppies and kittens were mentioned. Ma made no outward sign of hearing or comprehending their loathsome talk, preferring instead to smugly immerse herself in the open crossword puzzle before her....("Let's see, three-letter word for 'boor' that begins with 'C'...)

THANKFULLY, Derek soon returned from the curtained-cubicles-of-phlebotomy, and he and Ma exited the lab whilst she whispered the fervent prayer..."Please don't let those guys be going to the same place...please..."

Her recent petition agreeably answered, the death-defying duo returned to the oral surgery facility and plopped themselves and their various study materials into waiting chairs. Chairs appropriately placed out of eyesight of the obnoxious television and it's annoying program, The View. Unfortunately, said program could still be heard, as well as the wails of some poor tyke who was not responding adequately to his or her applied agent of sedation.

No matter! Entomology and The History of Mathematics were studied. At times the strident voices of women mixed incoherently with the child-not-responding-to-meds, yet bugs and ethereal sums were pored over, examined and reflected upon. It was all so surreal, and yet so dreamlike.

Then, came the call..."Derek?" 'Twas a nurse; practitioner of comfort as well as purveyor of doom.

With leaden steps, mother and son proceeded to the room of tooth-outingness. It was prep time. It was crunch time.

It.

Was.

TIME.

(thus ends, Teeth of Wisdom: Part the Second )
 

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