9.29.09 My Roots are Dead

I awoke before 6 again this morning. It has become regular now. I rarely sleep in. I guess this is a normal development. I mean, I am getting older. Older people seem to wake up with the sun all of the time. Add this to the list. It is becoming official. The anxiety began shortly after I brushed my teeth.

My tooth is hurting badly. My dentist appointment is for 10 AM. I know, by the pain I am experiencing, that a root canal is going to be required. My dentist is going to basically climb inside my mouth and needle, and drill, and poke, and pinch, and grind, and stick, and drill, and drill, and drill, always the drill. The anxiety level just went up another notch.

Be a man! Yes, that is what I would tell my son if he was whining about the dentist. Be a man, accept your fate, take the pain, toughen up, stop your whimpering, be a man. I'm pretty sure my dentist hates me. He is going to hurt me. Anxiety continues to rise.

I try to drink my gourmet coffee. Life is good, until I take the first steam laden sip. The pain sends me reeling from the cup in horror. The left side of my face feels as though, well, it feels as though there is an open nerve inside my jaw that has a huge infection all around it.

I rush to the kitchen and swallow two tylenol. I also grab the ice pack from the freezer and pin it to my face. That's nice. I feel the coolness roll across my entire face and the pain deadens a little. It is going to be fine. 10 AM will be here soon.

I walk into the office at 9:55 AM and announce my presence. The lady behind the counter says hello and smiles a warm smile at me. That is comforting, but my tooth hurts enough to not want her comfort. I want a dentist, now. Of course, I say nothing except hello and turn to go sit down in the waiting room.

There is an older woman, maybe 55 or 60 years of age. She has blond hair and is wearing a sweater and a pair of dress sandals. Her feet are well manicured, but they are old. I'm guessing she used to work on her feet, or she is older than I think. Her feet looked old compared to her face. She is reading a Women's World magazine. I smile at her and sit down, she smiles back.

There are a couple of Sports Illustrated's sitting next to me and I actually get to almost complete one of them when the lady behind the counter calls me back. It is now 10:40 AM. The pain in my mouth, for whatever reason, has subsided. For this I am thankful. Maybe the Tylenol was working. I'm taken to "the first room on the right" and the assistant puts a lead vest over my chest for the x-rays.

The dentist comes in and says "He's back!" in a jovial voice like he is surprised to see me. He knows me better than I know myself, I guess. I answer "I had to come back, my tooth is killing me."

He explains he thought that may happen and it looks like a root canal will be required. He asks if I would like to know first how much it will cost me and what my insurance will cover. I ask "Do you have a payment plan?" He laughs. I do not.

It turns out it will cost me almost $500 for a root canal and new crown. They do take my request for a payment plan seriously and offer to have me pay half today and half when I have the permanent crown put on, in three weeks. For some reason this makes me feel better, and my anxiety actually drops a little bit at that very moment.

I am very happy when he moves towards me with that long, sharp, skinny needle. The numbness is felt almost immediately. I feel it first at the point where the needle enters and slowly, but surely, spreading over the entire left side of my face.

His assistant moves in and has me open my mouth wide. She puts a rubber dental dam around the tooth they will be working on. I suddenly realize this will keep things from falling into my throat. Wait a minute, this is a good idea. How has this never been used on me before? I hate all of my past dentists now. How could they not have thought of a dental dam?

What came next was the least disturbing episode of any tooth work I have ever had done. There was no pain, there was no gagging, there was no swearing, and there were no promises to find him late at night and and gouge his eyes out for what he had just put me through.

We finished up an hour and a half later. My tooth no longer hurts, and I get a new tooth in three weeks time. Life is good.

Codsey out.

PS. Five things:

1. Painless Dentistry
2. Dental Dams
3. Flexibility
4. Good Friends
5. Pot Roast in the Slow Cooker.