Random ReflectionsOn The LossOf #2

Dateline: 14 April 2016

It was seven months ago that I wrote here about the experience of having a tooth extracted (Pride, And Missing #13). Now, alas, I have had to have Dr. Brady remove #2.

The procedure was performed three weeks ago. I'm doing fine now, but had to take it easy for a couple of days.  And I had to take some high-strength prescription ibuprofen every few hours. I'm thankful for pain relieving medications like ibuprofen.

While my former #13 had only a single root, #2 had four roots.  The tooth came out in pieces, and I could tell from the effort being exerted on my jaw that at least three of those pieces didn't come out easily.  When it was over, Dr. Brady told me again that I had extremely dense jaw bone. 

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On this visit, before yanking my tooth out, Dr. Brady asked me what I did for a living. I'm never sure how I should answer that question. I told him I wrote books and had a mail order business. He seemed interested in that.

The conversation ensued, and I came to realize that Dr. Brady was interested in my story because he is a fellow entrepreneur. 

It so happens that Dr. Brady and his wife (who is also a dental surgeon, and a competitive runner) started a granola bar business. His wife developed the bar recipe for herself and it is made with some high quality ingredients. In time, other runners expressed an interest in the bars.  A home business was born (see the gRUNola Facebook page). The Bradys were making batches of bars in their kitchen. They were looking to expand the business.

I say they "were" (past tense) because the fledgling gRUNola business came to an abrupt end 18 months ago when they lost their home to a fire. That was, as you might imagine, a real crisis, in a lot of different ways. So, gRUNola bars are in limbo.

Anyway, yes, of course, I told Dr. Brady that I invented Granola bars back in 1975.

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Years before I became non-famous (and non-rich) for inventing granola bars, I had a conversation with my friend John Sauro that I have never forgotten.  It was the summer of 1969.

We had just graduated from 5th grade and we were exploring in a large ditch on the edge of the housing development where we lived. The ditch ran behind Linda Jenson's house. I was in love with Linda at the time (but I don't think she ever knew it) and we decided to sit at the top of the ditch, on the edge of her back yard, in hopes that she might be home, and see us, and come outside. 

That never happened, but John and me had a memorable conversation that had a profound effect on me. It started when I asked him what he wanted to be someday. To my utter amazement, he told me that he wanted to be a dentist.  

John's father was not a dentist (dentists, and other such professionals, did not live in our working class neighborhood). But, for some reason, he seriously wanted to be a dentist, and he knew this when he was 11 years old!

As for myself, I didn't know what I wanted to be. Oh, I had long imagined that I would be a secret agent, but I didn't admit that to John. It seemed kind of silly compared to being a dentist. 

I took my future plans much more seriously after that conversation. Before the first day of 6th grade, I had my mind fully wrapped around the goal of being a doctor. I've written about this before. It was my goal for the next three years. I never got better grades in school than I did in 6th to 8th grade.  But that all changed in 9th grade, when my family moved out of suburbia, to this rural neighborhood where I still reside.

I made a clean break with all my boyhood friends when we moved. So I don't know what became of John. But I'm sure he must have done well for himself. 

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When my co-worker Tom was going to have his prostate removed, I went to YouTube and watched a video of the procedure. It was so disturbing that I had to stop watching, and go lie down. I felt sick.

When my friend Mary had to have a hip replacement, I went to YouTube and watched the procedure. It didn't affect me like the prostate surgery, but it was still visually traumatic enough that I couldn't watch the whole thing.

Perhaps it's best I didn't become a doctor.

But, come to think of it, I felt similarly nauseous and disturbed when Marlene and I butchered our first chicken. And now, after butchering hundreds of them, it's no big deal. 

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So, naturally, I watched some tooth extraction videos on YouTube. Watching a tooth be removed is not nearly as disturbing as watching a prostate be removed.

I discovered that YouTube has an astounding number of videos showing people pulling their own teeth, using regular pliers, or ViseGrips, or a Leatherman tool. 

Which reminds me... Fellow agrarian Scott Terry is an avid Leatherman user. He speaks of it often on his podcast. The Super Tool 300 version is what he likes. You can read his review here: Scott's Leatherman Super Tool 300 Review. One of these days I'm going to get me a Super Tool 300. But I digress.

In this next video (which you must watch) the man pulls his own tooth out with ViseGrips. I'm no dentist, but I'm pretty sure he's removing his #2 tooth.

The film is amazing for a couple of reasons. First, the guy has a remarkably nice set of teeth. Second, the four-rooted molar comes out in one tidy whole piece. That man does NOT have dense jaw bone.

The endearing part of the clip comes after the tooth is out (at 2:45 into the clip), as his wife sincerely thanks God for the success of the procedure. Then, as the movie ends, she says, "Let's pray."  That man is blessed with a godly wife.

What would possess a person to resort to pulling their own tooth? Well, I suspect the combination of poverty and pain would do it, though I question, from the looks of the tooth, whether the guy in the video above was suffering tooth pain.

And then there are YouTube videos of friends pulling teeth of friends. That's how they do it in East Texas. It's kind of a community event ...

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So, I'm wondering.... 

How young (or old) were you when you knew what you wanted to do? 

And have you ever pulled one of your own teeth?