" When he felt the gum around the tooth was gaping nicely, he gripped the tooth with pliers and tried to yank it out. For some ungodly reason, my molar stuck on like the Rock of Gibraltar. The quack tried again and again without success. He seemed frustrated, if not disgusted, to the point of cursing under his breath. But my stubborn molar would not give in and come out. Then, he used a technique that could not have been in any texbook of dentistry. He broke the molar into pieces to my screams and the shivers of my mother. The quack was unstoppable. My mother pleaded with him to stop but he took no heed. I reckon he felt his reputation was at stake. He said it should be alright; to bear with him. I was asked to wash my mouth of the continuous flow of blood and spit into the spittoon so many times that I lost count. By then I was more dead than alive"
taken from page 16 of Glimpses and reflections of a past president of Singapore. Been reading this again as my bedtime book.