I posted this elsewhere, but figured I'd post here, too, after lurking for a long time. Based very, very loosely on real-life experience, this story may be used for any purpose without attribution to me.

I was driving for hours down the same road, in the southern USA when I just couldn't take it anymore. My tooth had been killing me all day, and I decided to do something about it. As if by fate, the next sign I saw read "Dental Health Center", and I pulled off into the parking lot.

It was getting late on the Friday night, but the lights in the large single-floor building were still on. The parking lot was mostly empty, but a couple of the cars suggested I still had a chance to catch someone. I locked my car and walked to the main door.

While the building was pretty big, I walked into a small waiting room. Comfortable chairs were spread across the walls, and a large desk separated the reception area from rows of files. An aquarium, full of fish and coral, took up a whole wall, which I spent a minute just watching. An open door by the aquarium led back to a hallway, and presumably, the rest of the office. A woman in a light blue-green scrub top looked up from the desk.

"Can I help you?" The woman asked, in a light southern accent. She had long, brown hair, a big smile, and a name-tag identifying her as Morgan.

I explained my situation. "I'm Alex Johnson; I'm just driving through town, but have a bad toothache. I don't have an appointment, but I'm hoping someone could take a look?"

Morgan thought for a minute. "You're from out of town? Not one of our patients?" I confirmed that I was a stranger here, and not a regular patient.

"Well, why don't you have a seat and fill out our registration paperwork and standard consent forms, and I'll go ask Dr. Savannah if she can see you." I took a clipboard full of paperwork, as Morgan disappeared into the back.

I took the paperwork to a nearby seat, and began looking over the forms. There was a lot there; I think Morgan must have just given me all their standard forms. I read the first few, filled in the obvious stuff (my name, medical history) but there seemed like there were lots to go...

Right about then, a woman appeared in the doorway leading back. "Alex? I'm Dr. Savannah. We're all done for the day, but we can fit you in. Why don't you come on back with me?" She wore a a pair of blue scrubs, dark blue, not like Morgan had. Short blond hair and glasses over equally dark blue eyes made her quite the sight. If I'd been from around here, I'd be switching to her practice right now. I stood up, but hesitated... "I haven’t finished all this paperwork, yet..."

"Oh, don't worry about that, Honey.” She wasn't that much older than me, maybe early 30s, but had a particular way of speaking; maybe she usually dealt with younger patients. “You can go ahead and just sign the last page, and leave it on Morgan's desk."

Easy enough; I flipped to the last page, signed, and left the packet of papers of the reception desk. Taking a deep breath to gather myself, I followed Dr. Savannah back, through the door and down the hallway.

"Let's go right in here." She indicated an exam room, which we stepped into. "Take a seat, and I'll be right with you.”

We were in an entirely normal dentist's exam room. The center of the room had a dentist's chair, curvy and covered in blue vinyl fabric. A white post sat to the left of the chair, with everything one expected to see attached; all the hand-held tools of a practicing dentist, a tray for instruments (which already held some tools which looked like picks), a little cup full of water and the tiny sink for spitting. I thought the drill might be in my future, but my tooth already really hurt.

Walking to the chair, I noticed, with a little amusement, that the ceiling was painted with a mural; fish and water and plants that reminded me of the aquarium in the waiting room. I took a seat, while Dr. Savannah pulled on a pair of white latex gloves from a box on one of the counters, and grabbed a white surgical mask. The chair didn't have armrests, so I put my hands in my lap, nervously.

“So, Morgan said you had a tooth ache? Tell me what hurts.” She asked as she returned to the chair. Pressing some controls, she raised the chair slightly, and tipped it backwards a bit. My head crinkled against a plastic cover that covered the head rest as I settled into it.

“It's a dull ache, in my lower left. I'm not totally sure which tooth...” I explained, as she tied on her mask. Dr. Savannah turned on the overhead dental light, and aimed it at me.

“Let's see what your teeth look like. Open, Honey.” I opened wide. Taking a pick and a mirror from the tray, she began to survey my teeth, my gums. Each tooth got a poke. She made some non-committal noises as she inspected. “Hmmmm.” More picking. “Good general hygiene, Alex. You still have your wisdom teeth, did you know that?” I made a non-committal noise of my own. Some more picking, a few seconds on a molar on my right before moving on. Then picking on my left side, near my pain. I felt a pick press into the teeth on my lower left. When she came to the last molar, it caught, and really hurt. When I jumped, she removed the pick.

“Well, Honey, I have some good news and some bad news.” She untied her mask, removed her gloves. “The bad news is that you've got a big cavity there, at least.” I groaned. “The good news is that we can fix it right now. If I can catch my assistant Janet before she leaves, we'll give you a little laughing gas, then get right in.”

I wasn't sure that sounded like a good idea. “Maybe I can wait until I get home, to my own dentist? And I don't know about gas...”

Dr. Savannah shook her head in disapproval. “That's up to you, but it's only going to get worse. Better to let us take care of it now. And there's nothing to be afraid of with the gas; it just helps you feel relaxed and makes treatment easier for you. We love the gas here.” She laughed. “We'll take extra special attention, I promise! Alright?”

I still wasn't sure, but I wanted to get the tooth fixed. I reluctantly nodded my assent.

“Wait right here; I'll be back in a moment.” She told me, before disappearing out the door towards the hall.

I sat for a few minutes, alone, just stewing in my nervousness. It was clear that there were no other patients here anymore, and I was impressed that they'd accommodated me. But I really wasn't looking forward to getting Dr. Savannah's extra special attention.

Eventually, another young woman appeared at the exam room's door. This woman wore light blue-green scrubs, and had long blond hair pulled back into a pony tail. She was pushing a cart with a small machine on it; a gas machine. I'd expected that they'd have to get one, but nevertheless, my throat caught.

“Hi, I'm Janet. You're Alex? The doctor told me about you, and sent me to give you a little gas.”

“Yes...” I stammered. “I have a cavity....”

“A little bit of nervousness, I see. Don't worry, the doctor told me you get extra special attention.” She smiled as she pushed the machine to my left, slightly behind me. I turned to look and to watch her as she connected tubes and turned dials. The machine looked really complex, with lots of switches, scales and knobs connected to several different colored cylinders of different sizes. I heard a quiet hiss as she turned up three of the dials. A big green bag partially inflated on one end of the machine, which was attached to two white tubes, which ran to a small, blue rubber mask.

“There's nothing to be nervous about, I promise. Face forwards for me, and I'll put this over your nose.” Janet picked up the mask, and with a practiced motion, looped it over my head.

I reluctantly turned my head back forwards to accept the mask over my nose. “Just take regular breaths through your nose. We'll start really slow, and turn it up until you feel really good.” I took a breath; it didn't seem so bad, just a slightly sweat smell. Maybe a hint of chemical, but nothing scary.

Janet adjusted the mask until it felt snug against my face. “That's great; keep breathing. Let's connect you to the monitor; can I have your hand?” I held out my left hand, and Janet slid some sort of sensor over my pointer finger before putting it back in my lap. “Dr. Savannah will be back in a few minutes. Until then, just relax and breath.”

For a few minutes, we just sat there; Janet occasionally turning a knob, and me just breathing. I looked around, looked at the aquatic mural on the ceiling. This seemed like a nice office. While I'd been nervous, now I felt happy that I was going to get it over with. I thought I felt a little bit of tingling in my feet, which was pleasant.

More movement at the exam room door (the door, to my left, was hard to see with my head held in place by the nasal mask) and Dr. Savannah was back, carrying sealed bags of sterile instruments. “How are you feeling, Honey?” she asked.

“Good, I think, Doctor.” I said.

“A little bit higher, please, Janet,” she instructed, as she placed the bags on the tray. Janet nodded (I think, I could barely see her to my left) and the chemical smell got a bit stronger. I didn't really mind. I was starting to feel a little hazy; a good haze. The tingling had spread to my hands.

More movement at the door, and I recognized Morgan had joined us. She was pushing an odd table, about two feet long, thin on one end, with two machines mounted on the thick end. There was some other stuff on the table, a small metal pole sticking up, a pad, some kidney-shaped dishes, but Morgan pushed it near the wall on my right, so it didn't seem important. Morgan nodded at me and joined Dr. Savannah donning gloves and masks. I guess she was helping out with my filling. My arms and legs were starting to feel pleasantly warm now. The feeling made me smile.

Dr. Savannah, gloved and masked, came to my side. The doctor mentioned another adjustment to Janet, then turned to me.

“Alright, Honey. Open wide for me, please.”

I opened, and Dr. Savannah reached into my mouth and placed a blue rubber block between my right molars. It pressed against my cheek, and forced my mouth to stay open as wide as I'd had it. A tiny chain led from it to a clip, which she attached to my shirt. It was really uncomfortable, and I tried to mumble something about it. It came out unintelligible.

“It's all right, Honey.” Dr. Savannah patted my cheek with her gloved hand. It felt reassuring. “Just breath in the gas and it'll all be OK.” She looked at Janet, and the chemical smell grew slightly.

I realized a few moments later, that I was becoming dizzy. It wasn't a pleasant feeling. I thought Janet maybe had the gas up too high; I wasn't just relaxed, I felt like I was losing control. I didn't want to accidentally pass out. “And just a little bit more, please, Janet.” Dr. Savannah started opening the bags of tools onto the tray. I crinkled my forehead in confusion; didn't her instruction mean to turn the gas higher? That wasn't what I wanted. I felt fear for a moment, but my next breath of gas brought a stronger chemical smell, which washed it away. My mouth, prop-ed wide open, felt very dry, but the next breath pushed that concern away, too.

Dr. Savannah opened the bags of tools and started arranging them on the tray. I watched as she connected a drill tip to her high-speed tool (which I felt strangely detached about). I watched her load a large metal syringe with a cartridge of some local anesthetic. She put a fresh tube on the suction device. I'd had a filling before, and that all seemed familiar. But then, she arranged several large pliers, forceps. She opened a bag that had what looked like tiny chisels. One held a little metal hammer. A scalpel. This wasn't right. I had to get out of here. There was a buzzing in my ears now, which was growing louder with each breath...

But Morgan was there, now, over to my right. I forced myself to turn my head slightly as my attention turned to her. I was still dizzy, and the motion made the room lurch dangerously. She'd taken my right arm with her gloved hands, and was rolling up my sleeve. Janet was now holding my other hand, which was comforting... or preventing me moving.

I'm not sure when, but Morgan had wheeled the odd table closer to my right side; it was right up against the chair, and at shoulder height. I frowned as she placed my arm in the middle of the table, on a long pad that pressed against the back of my elbow. Dr. Savannah was there now, wrapping an elastic around my upper arm while Morgan swabbed the inside of my elbow. From one of the kidney-shaped trays, Morgan picked up a short needle. The needle looked blurry, which was... odd. Why was there a needle in the first place? I tried to review my memory of if there was supposed to be needles, and was pretty sure the answer was negative. This was wrong, wrong, wrong. I could pull my arm back, but it had become really heavy, like the rest of my limbs. Morgan held my wrist, too.

Noticing my interest, Morgan looked up from what she was doing. “Just a little pinch here, Alex,” her light southern accent was barely audible above the buzzing that was filling my head. Even through the blur of the gas, it was a big pinch as she pushed it into my vein. A really big needle. Morgan taped the needle in place, onto my arm. She removed the elastic, and Dr. Savannah's reassuring hand was on my cheek again.

“It's all right, Honey. All of this is fine. Just relax and we'll do what's best for you.” Her voice sounded distant. I didn't think she was telling the truth, and despite the wave of happiness that washed over me every time I took a breath, I was getting more and more upset.

By now, Morgan had connected my IV to a bag of saline, which hung from the little pole attached to the table. From the other kidney-shaped dish, she retrieved two syringes; one full of a clear liquid, the other a milky-white. I wasn't supposed to be getting an injection, I didn't think. But I couldn't think straight, couldn't be sure... and couldn't really resist in any case. I felt so helpless.

Morgan inserted each of the syringes into one of the small machines mounted on the other end of odd table, as I noted that Dr. Savannah was laying out a green cloth, some sort of drape, over my whole chest, from my waist to my neck. She looked at Morgan. “Please start the infusers; I want to get this surgery started before it gets too late.” It sounded like she was far away, and the buzzing was even louder, but I could understand her. I watched as Morgan pressed some buttons on the small machines, and saw liquid leave both syringes, travel down some tubes, and into my IV. This was so wrong. I wasn't even sure why I was here anymore, and was so scared. I'm a grown man, but I'm pretty sure I started crying.

Dr. Savannah was there again, and a big metal syringe of novacaine. “Just close your eyes, Honey.” She said. I know she could see the helplessness and confusion in them. “It's almost over now.”

“Pull that tray, closer, Morgan” Dr. Savannah was talking to someone else now, but I couldn't remember who that was. “We'll extract the four wisdom teeth and the two molars with inoperable cavities. Suction, please.”

My last truly coherent thought was that while I now I was being gassed, being drugged through an IV, and was apparently about to have teeth dug out of my head, that this dentist's office had seemed so nice when I'd arrived.

“Not much longer, I promise,” someone said to my left. I think it was whoever was still holding my left hand, which was nice. I couldn't see her; my vision had narrowed to a tunnel; I could see the mural on the ceiling, Dr. Savannah aiming her syringe, her white latex glove, her glasses, her blue eyes. Then I couldn't even see that. The room suddenly blurred, my eyes completely unfocused. As if on cue, someone placed a drape over my eyes, and everything went dark.

I couldn't be sure if my eyes closed or not, but the buzzing noise, that had been so loud, disappeared. I felt like I was falling backwards, off a cliff, towards a deep, dark ocean. The dentist office was gone, the chair, gone. The doctor, her nurses, gone. There was nothing but falling. I tried to reach out, to grab something, but it was a moonless night, and I couldn't see anything to grab onto. I fell for seconds, minutes, maybe hours, until the ocean quietly engulfed me.

“He's out. Let's get started.” A woman's voice reverberated in my head, and for a time, I floated. If I felt the pinch of a needle or the slash of a scalpel on my gums, it was immediately forgotten. The crunch of tooth and bone, the taste of blood, even the whine of the drill never reached me. Once, I thought I might have heard the ringing as chunks of wisdom tooth were extracted into a metal tray, but another breath and that was washed away with the tide.

When I woke up, woozy, bloody, and numb, I didn't remember much after I'd first met Dr. Savannah in the waiting room. But I'd signed all the consent forms...