Hey Ash, here's a disgusting story you don't want to hear:
In my early 20's due to dental health necessity, I had to get braces. Terrible. Even more unfortunately, this meant having two impacted wisdom teeth and my four front pre-molars removed - that's right, count 'em: six teeth removed. Thankfully this meant being put under - I am glad I didn't have to be awake for what was done to me. I'm sure it was horrible. I remember arriving at that oral surgeons, and that is it. I remember coming to, and sort of remember going home, but I was on so many wonderful drugs, basically the next week is a total blur. I had a great hallucination about Isabella Rossellini.
Anyway a couple weeks later I am all better, and I notice a small paper bag has mysteriously appeared in my sock drawer. My curiosity peaked, I open it, look inside, and when I see what is in it, I run to the bathroom and puke rainbow colours. Seems that while slipping under the anesthesia I requested that they save my teeth for me, and during my drug filled haze that afternoon, brought them home and stuck them in the drawer. In that I have no memory of any of this, opening a bloody bag of teeth was a horrible, disgusting surprise.
Then I spent two horrible years looking like a teenager.