Oops!

There are no words in the English language more terrifying than oops, damn, and oh crap. Simple paltry words, true, but they can strike terror in a person when spoken in the wrong setting. Every time I look in the mirror, each of those words haunts me. If you have a little time, I’ll be happy to explain.

Going bald can improve some men’s looks. It sets them apart from the rest. Bruce Willis, Yul Brynner, and Telly Savalas not only embraced baldness, they made it their trademark. Kojak wouldn’t be the same if he had a head of hair. John McClane, the main character in the Die Hard series, may have had a receding hairline in the first movie but was totally bald by the last one. Each of the men I mentioned possessed a face that worked well with no hair, but not me.

I searched for a remedy for my malady. Friends suggested Rogaine, others recommended frequent scalp messages. A few people proposed hair transplant surgeries. Not having the money for surgery, I opted for regular messages. That’s when I heard the first terrifying word, “Damn”!

When I asked what was wrong, the masseuse showed me two handfuls of hair. Damn indeed, the shocked look on my face said it all. She apologized profusely and then suggested I try a wig. The wig idea was just too bizarre for me. Disheartened, I resigned myself to being partially bald for the rest of my life.

I had just gotten used to seeing strands of hair stuck to my pillow in the morning when the next malady struck. A bolt of pain in my jaw caused me to wake from a sound sleep with a start. The pain persisted throughout the day. I wasn’t able to book an appointment with a regular dentist, but a local school for dental hygienists was accepting walk-ins. I decided that if they could help ease the pain, why not?

Two students and an instructor positioned me in the dentist’s chair. The teacher told her charges what to do and stepped back to observe. Just before a student began working on my teeth, the instructor was called away. The novices were unsure if they should proceed, then went for it. They took turns scraping and poking my teeth while I did my best to ignore the pain. I had almost reached my maximum pain threshold when we all heard one loud snap.

Oops, was what one tech said while the other offered an apology. Several of my front teeth had splintered under the pressure, leaving me with what looked like a row of needles for teeth. They called the instructor, who immediately reminded me of the waiver of liability paper I signed. She handed me a card for a dentist who did discount implants and escorted me to the door. Furious, I left the school vowing to return with my lawyer. A lawyer I didn’t have.

Several months passed, and I needed to renew my driver’s license. The DMV clerk informed me I had flunked the eye test. Before my license expired, I went to see an eye doctor. He told me it was time to remove my cataracts. The doctor assured me it was a standard operation using a laser and some eye drops. Considering my recent experiences, I’m sure you understand why I was hesitant to have the procedure. Unfortunately, I needed my license, so I reserved a time for the operation.

All appeared to be going well until I noticed the lights flash extra bright. The startled look on the doctor’s face, along with an excruciating pain in my left eye and the words Oh Crap, told me everything I needed to know. The power surge had fried my eye and it needed to be removed. They offered me a glass eye, but I find it uncomfortable and rarely wear it.

Because of all that I’ve been through, my facial skin has sagged. When I look in a mirror, I resemble a zombie. I got a call from the producers of The Walking Dead yesterday. They said I’d be a natural for a zombie part they have. Maybe I’ll finally catch a break!