I have information for sale and I think it's worth a helluva lot of money to
The circumstances leading me to her began commonly enough. I've been getting crowns installed on a few teeth. I couldn't sleep Friday night because of intense pain on the left side of my mouth in the area of newly placed temporary crowns. The pain radiated through my jaw, up to my temple and down my neck. I called my dentist Saturday morning. He told me to come in. I did and also complained about a super sensitive front tooth. He examined me and said I needed a root canal on the front tooth. He numbed me and did the root canal - not comfy, but it was tolerable.
Yesterday morning (Monday) the pain was horrific again so I called Dr. Tatasongwatchai and he told me to come right in. He looked under the temporary crowns and said I needed a root canal on one of the back teeth. He doesn't do root canals on back teeth, so he made an appointment for me to go to the dental clinic at the hospital where an orthodontist comes down from
She calls herself, Dr. Sudsupalux. Obviously, it's an alias and a clumsy one at that - who ever heard of a Thai name ending in 'lux'? I met her once before. She did a rather painful root canal on me on my birthday. It went reasonably well. I wasn't suspicious of her at the time so I didn't scrutinize her. I think she was prepping me for the next visit. She looked Thai and had a pretty convincing Thai accent, so I cuddled myself into the green vinyl reclining lounge chair yesterday expecting another endurable, mildly painful experience. What followed could only have been performed by an expertly trained torturer. She called the procedure a treatment, but if there was any treat involved, it was all hers.
My favorite sight while sitting in a dentist's chair is the floating descent of a syringe loaded with anesthetic gliding past my nose. It's my favorite elixir in those circumstances. I know that it contains a liquid angel of mercy and the initial prick of the needle is a prelude to the bliss of numbness. Not so yesterday... the syringe whizzed past my nose like a scud missile whose speed and trajectory had gone haywire. Its jabbed landing exploded in my gum and made my ass arch off the chair.
"Oh? Hurt?" Dr. Lux asked, with a certain knowing in her tone. (She spoke those two words often throughout the ordeal - sometimes gleefully.)
A few minutes went by while she and her assistant messed with their drills, clamps and devices. I think the orchestrated clinking metal noises were intended to instill an initial fear to tense my body. It did. She poked a metal tool around the gum area where the scud needle had landed and asked, "Can feel?" 'Yes,' I nodded and gestured with my hand. She removed the tool and I rubbed my finger around my gum saying, in my best Thainglish, "Not numb. Jep (pain). Can feel." She seemed to ignore my comments and began removing the temporary crowns covering the trembling roots that were about to be drilled to oblivion. Wire clamps and an armature with a green rubber trampoline were then quickly stretched over my gaping mouth. Her rubber gloves caught on my beard and caused me to jump again. "Oh? Hurt?" I tried to gesture with my hand that her dry rubber glove was pulling my beard out hair by hair and it hurt like hell. She didn't get the message and thought I was protesting about the clamps. She brushed off my complaint.
I think she thought that by now the anesthetic had done its job and she began drilling. It hadn't. I felt no numbness at all and now there was no way for me to tell her, because my mouth was wired open and covered. (I later realized that she knew all along that there was no anesthetic in that syringe and my gums would never be numb.)
From then on it was a repeated cycle of aggressive drilling, my hands going up and my ass jumping out of the chair, followed by her knowing question, "Oh? Hurt?" I wanted to shout at her, 'Oh no, not hurt, bitch; I've had this condition that makes me sweat, my arms flail and my butt gyrate uncontrollably every two minutes all my life!"
I didn't think it could get worse, but it did. As she got into the root, the syringe came out again and she began plunging it directly into the root. I think she wanted me to believe that she was anesthetizing the root as she went along, but I wasn't buying it. By now I knew the syringe was loaded with a cayenne and acid solution. The needle jabbing into the root was some of the most excruciating pain I've ever felt - which was kind of apropos, since yesterday was the one year anniversary of my fifteen foot fall through a roof and the agonizing pain that followed. (I'm now thinking that an ex-wife - maybe all of them - hired a psychic to put a crystal contract on me that will cause me unthinkable physical pain every August 20th. I must admit that the incidents are creative, however, so it must have cost them a lot of money.)
My ass jumping up and down, my arms becoming more and more animated and my gargled moans as I fought for consciousness finally caused her to say, "I think enough today. We finish next time." Next time is September 10th. We are going to have a long talk about anesthetics before I sit in that chair again though. I have a relatively high tolerance for pain. My gums never did get numb.
She never fooled me. She's Mengele's daughter alright. When I listened closely, I could detect a slight German accent and there was a faint hint of sauerkraut on her breath. She looked Thai and it was a good makeover, but the palms of her hands were white, I saw a few blond hairs near her scalp and no Thai lady has breasts that large. And Dr. Sudsupalux? Where the hell did she get that name - off a box of laundry detergent? I'll string along with her and let her have her fun with me one more time, but her days are numbered and the last laugh will be mine.
I'm going to auction off the whereabouts of Mengele's daughter on EBay - and then I will have enough money to go back to the
