By Ken Rickard
Advertiser Columnist

When my oral surgeon stuck a rubber wedge in my mouth to keep it open during the procedure, I knew that there was trouble ahead.

Anytime someone asks you to bite down on something, it surely means that pain is about to follow. Think of every movie scene that involved whipping as a punishment. ("Bite down on this, son. It helps. Trust me.")

Not that I was being punished. Well, maybe I was, for not seeing my dentist in a couple of years. By "a couple," I mean seven.

It wasn't the actual procedure that I was nervous about, rather the impending pain that would follow. I try to stay away from pain as much as possible. At least unnecessary pain.

I'm not saying that I was scared. Fear and suffering are separate matters.

I have faced many of my fears. I leaped from a crane in Las Vegas over a parking lot with nothing but a glorified rubber band attached to my waist.

There was the time I met that bully in the park after school, even though I knew I was gonna get whupped.

I even jumped out of an airplane before a friend's bachelor party because it was a bold male-bonding event.

All right, that second one wasn't true.

Why didn't I do that?

Because I knew it was gonna hurt.

Guys go out of their way to avoid things that hurt. But when the pain sets in we will devolve back to boyhood and whine all day long.

How many men have you seen force themselves to get sick, after drinking too much, in fear of the dreaded hangover? It seems pretty unmanly until you see the same guy having to endure said hangover.

He'll wake up in the morning with that trademark moan. Following a stop in the bathroom and a glass of water, he'll curl up in bed all day (after calling in sick) watching rerun sitcoms like a third-grader avoiding a spelling test.

How about that guy who got suckered into helping someone move? Even though he hasn't done anything more physical than push the power button on his computers since college, he believes he can lift the sofa all by himself.

The next morning, he finds he's lost all movement in his arms and pulled both hamstrings. There's nothing he'd rather do that day than read Green Lantern comic books and suck down condensed chicken and stars, like he did when a tummy ache was enough for a one-day vacation.

As for me, I had to have a tooth removed and some "bad tissue" excised from my gums. There was no avoiding this.

Even though the doc had numbed up the area pretty good, I was still making faces that implied discomfort.

"Does that hurt?"

"No," I blurted out like any man would.

"Drill, please."

I closed my eyes until it was over.

Between the ice packs, gauze and the Vicodin, I hoped to hold off the pain for as long as possible. (The pills have a label on them that says "may cause drowsiness, alcohol could intensify this effect." Is that a warning or a suggestion?)

"That wasn't so bad, was it?" the assistant asked as I left the office.

"Nah."

It wasn't that bad. But I'll be in the elevator crying if you need me.

Reach Ken Rickard at krickard@honoluluadvertiser.com.