Pain-Killers
by Geoff Lowe
All that he could see was part of a pretty coloured ceiling and little forests of nasal hairs. Len had his face tilted upwards and his mouth wide open for close examination by the dentist with dominant nostrils.
“No wonder you’ve got toothache,” said the dentist, “one or two of your teeth are in rather bad shape. You’ll need an extraction.”
“Shall I have to have gas or injection?” asked Len, nervously.
“Neither!” replied Dr Walford. “I don’t believe in synthetic drugs and chemicals – they can be dangerous. We’re going to use your body’s own natural pain-killers.”
“Oh?” queried Len, “What’s all this then – something new-fangled?”
“No – I didn’t, but next time I go to Tunisia I’ll bear that in mind.”
Len was fascinated by the thought of all these endorphins floating around his body just waiting to bring him instant pain relief whenever he wanted. “But how do we get them into action?” he asked the dentist.
“It’s easy. You just start off by gently stimulating a few pain receptors anywhere on the body surface. Look – let me show you.”
Dr Walford took a long, sterile needle and began to insert it first into Len’s earlobe, then into his forearm. “See what I mean?” said Dr Walford.
“Well … yes,” said Len squintingly, as he watched the dentist drive the needle through his nose.
“Did you feel any pain?”
“No, not really,” admitted Len, somewhat nasally. “But having a tooth pulled is an excruciatingly painful business. I need stronger proof that it’s going to work.”
“Right!” snorted Dr Walford. “Take off your shoes and socks.”
As soon as Len had his feet bared, the dentist took a sharp silver knife and sliced off Len’s big toe.
“How about that then?” asked Dr Walford.
“We—ll,” quivered Len, “I didn’t feel any pain, but you took me a bit by surprise. It was sort of cheating.”
“OK! OK!” fumed Dr Walford. “I shall tell you what I’m going to do. I’m going to saw your right leg off below the knee. So you won’t be surprised now, will you?”
Dr Walford seemed to enjoy using his larger instruments. He had big, muscular arms, and to the driving rhythm of a well-tuned rip-saw, he soon sawed through Len’s leg.
Len wasn’t saying much now. But Dr Walford could see from the glazed look in his eyes that Len’s endorphins were working well. Like a heroin addict, he was probably as high as a kite.
Dr Walford himself was also pretty fired up by now, as he grabbed hold of a top-of-the-range axe and hacked off the remainder of Len’s limbs. High endorphin activity also stimulated blood coagulation, so there was very little spillage and mess.
Len was really impressed. “There’s only one thing that worries me, doctor,” he said, “I sometimes get palpitations in my chest whenever I have a dental job.”
“No problem!” boomed Dr Walford, and with his favourite scimitar he severed Len’s head from his torso.
“Now, how do you feel?”
“OK,” said Len rather resignedly, “that lot didn’t hurt – but I’ve still got toothache!”
“Yes – that’s because toothache is not really proper pain. It’s merely an annoying signal telling us to do something about it. Right – I’ll soon have the offender out. Sit down then.”
“I can’t.”
“Oh – I see. Well, don’t move then. Now then, which tooth was it?”
“That one,” said Len hopefully.
“This one? There we go – out it comes.”
“No – that wasn’t the one, doctor.”
“Never mind – but I bet you didn’t feel any pain, did you?”
“No – I can’t say I did – but please get that bad tooth out.”
“Well, which one? Point to it, man!”
“I can’t.”
“Hmm … we’ll have to try this one then. How’s that?”
“’Fraid not, doctor – I’ve still got an ache.”
Dr Walford worked furiously and soon had all of Len’s teeth out in the dish. “OK. That’s it. Now how do you feel?”
“Fine, Doc – really fine. Yes, I’ve got to give it to you, Doc – these endorphins really do work. No pain at all. But could I ask you a favour?”
“What’s that?”
“Just scratch my nose for me, will you?”
Geoff Lowe - a bits and pieces man. His stuff crops up in various places at odd times, and in odd places at various other times. Geoff lives in Hull, where for many years he was founder/editor of Psychopoetica.
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