The Ol' Tooth in the Arm

Recently one of our dogs--the ever cranky and old (I can relate!), Mr. Loomis--developed a weird swelling on the pads of one of his paws. The vet studied, hypothesized, poked, guessed, eventually did a biopsy, and hundreds and hundreds of dollars later proclaimed it as a "hamartoma."

I asked my all-knowing and wise wife, "What is that?"

"It's basically abnormal cells that grow in the wrong place," she said. "It's why sometimes people find a hard spot in their arm or something and go, 'hey, it's a tooth!'"

"Gross!" I said.

(Later, my wife found out she'd been mistaking a "hamartoma" with a "teratoma," which is a growth formed from all three germ layers {and why do we need so many?}that can contain structures like hair or teeth. This is all new to me. The only Toma I'm familiar with was a crappy '70's cop show starring Tony Musante. But no matter the "toma," it's all still very gross.)

Can you imagine the ramifications of finding a tooth in your arm? First, I'd scream. Second, I'd pass out and hit my head. Third, I'd be rushed to the ER and be charged a kazillion bucks. No...wait... FIRST, I'd pass out. Then I'd wake up and then scream. Finally, I'd pass out again and fall down and hit my head, etc.

Guys. Teeth don't belong in arms. But germ cells disagree. Apparently, they're "pluripotent," able to produce all kinds of different tissue, including hair, muscle, bone, and even elements of a nervous system. Almost like parts of a fetus.

And, true, teratomas have lead to the discovery/creation of important stem cell harvesting. But I still counter with GROSS!

Just imagine that you're on a date that goes exceptionally well. You see this person on NUMEROUS other occasions before spending the night with them (because that's the kinda person Mom raised us up to be, nudge, nudge, wink, wink). Then the next morning your partner watches you brushing your teeth before attending to the tooth embedded in your arm. I imagine what once could've been the start of a wonderful relationship would come crashing down.

Furthermore, would you have your dentist check out your arm tooth as well? 

"I dunno, Doc. I've got an awful pain in my arm. Do you think it's a cavity? Can I have some laughing gas?" Then the dentist screams, passes out, falls down and hits his head, etc. etc.

Do you...um...do you have to feed it? Can it chew gum and blow bubbles to the entertainment and wondrous joy for your little nephew, Kevin? If the tooth grows crooked, do you get a single brace for it, just so...you know...you make a good impression the next time a date goes swimmingly well? Would the Tooth Fairy hurl all over your bed at the sight of your arm? Do I need to get my dog's paw cleaned by a doggy dentist, for God's sake?

The Cronenbergian body horror is just a little too much for me to handle.

And if you think that's a little hard to handle, the grue and gore flies in my darkly satirical tale of werewolfery in the corporate sector, appropriately titled, Corporate Wolf. Read the book that one critic said, "Hey, I thought this was the basis for The Wolf of Wall Street with Leonard DiCaprio. I cry rip-off!" Go on! Get ripped off right here!