As a result, I had my first official root canal on Monday. And I have to say it was two hours of suck.
Suckage #1: I didn’t get to see my regular hot-dentist-man as he was already booked that day, so I had to see one of his associates. Who wasn’t pretty on the eyes to me: he was a tall, lanky, ginger man. But he was pleasant enough and managed to work me into his schedule.
Suckage #2: After X-rays were taken, it was decided that the tooth itself couldn’t be repaired directly. Which left my options at either have the tooth pulled, or have a root canal and shape and fill the tooth in preparation for an *upcoming* procedure. Because this is the same side I had the previous tooth pulled on, and I’m already missing the back molar, hot-dentist-man’s plan was to use this now-broken molar as an anchor for a partial. So I really needed to keep what I could of it. Damn. There goes $1300 I didn’t have to play with.
Suckage #3 and #4: I’ve mentioned it before, but I’m not a fan of needles. (I wonder if anyone really is?) So when Ginger Dentista started jabbing needles into my gums and injecting whatever he injected to deaden the area, I was slightly unnerved. The nitrous really wasn’t doing anything for me other than making me feel tired, but it was making me feel anxious. Actually, I think I was more unnerved because Ginger Dentista had his finger in between by teeth and my lips and was doing this weird shaking thing to it while he was doing the injections. Which made me think I was being fishhooked.
After which I was left sit for about 5 minutes for the numb to kick in. This was the view I had while I waited:
Suckage #I-Lost-Count: Then Tooth Assistant Lady put this rubber door opener thingy into my mouth to wedge it open. Not happy about that I was. And then she started attaching this rubber sheet dam thing around my tooth and attached some scaffolding to it on the outside of my face. From my viewpoint, I thought I looked like a Predator. Not Chris Hansen Predator, but the Predator from those Ah-nold movies. I wanted to snap a picture, but I couldn’t.
So now I’m laying there with my mouth wedged open, half my face numb, and a nasty-tasting rubber sheet touching my tongue. Saliva city! Of which I had a difficult time swallowing thanks to the numb. I thought for sure I was going to choke a few times.
And they haven’t even started the procedure yet!
But when they do start the procedure, whatever Dremel attachment Ginger Dentista was using made the loudest noise in my head I have ever heard. And not a good noise either. I can’t even begin to describe it. But I shall attempt to. Imagine golf cleats grinding down a chalkboard, amplified 1000 times. While river dancing. Yep. That’s pretty close to what it sounded like. With a little reverberation to boot. Kind of like listening to Yoko Ono having an orgasm. Underwater. While being humped by a whale. Or listening to Ke$ha.
That lasted a good hour. Or it felt like an hour. I think I was internally deaf by the time they were finished.
Ginger Dentista got the tooth root out, and made whatever changes he had to make to the tooth to pack it with some substance that will stay put until I go back for an “upgrade” at some point down the road.
Then sent me home with instructions to take ibuprofen every 6 hours until my face stops hurting.
Which it hasn’t. Yet. For the most part.
Until next time...