What's more fun than a root canal? A root canal done in two stages. I'm sure many of you were not filled in as to my dental dilemma prior to departing to Europe, so first, some background information. My body sure knows how to time things- it decided to hit me hard with a toothache two mornings before my flight to Madrid. As most would do, I brushed aside the thought that I should call the dentist, reasoning that their schedule would be packed with such short notice. As the day wore on and the pain failed the subside, my mind's worry grew more immune to that reason. Thus, the desire to call won, and I phoned the dentist begging them to squeeze me in for a quick peek. They said, as I had assumed, that their schedule was packed tighter than a sardine tin (ok they did not literally use the sardine tin comparison). But, given my circumstances, they took pity on my and said they could fit me in for a brief look.
Well, that brief look required the aid of an x- ray, which displayed a potentially dead nerve beneath the malicious little tooth. The dentist informed me that I needed a root canal. Oh, the joy that brewed within me! I had two options to mull over in my overwhelmed brain: I could mosey out of there with pain pills and antibiotics and wait until my return to do the procedure. Or, I could do part one of a root canal, which involves opening the tooth and removing the dead nerve, then they would temporarily seal it and do the rest upon my return. The issue with option one is I would run the risk of extreme pain flaring up in the tooth when in the plane, as altitude is notorious for causing such things. Shockingly, the idea of being in head-splitting pain for a combined total of 10 hours of air travel did not appeal to me. So, door number two, please! Let me just say, I hate novocaine shots. I could make a list of hundreds of unpleasant things I would prefer to do before get a novocaine shot. Yes, I love the result of the shots, but the actual thing... Ouch. I always clench up and dig my nails into the hand of the poor, unsuspecting dental assistant attempting to calm me down. Part two of the procedure, which I had done today, called for three of them. I felt tears welling up behind my eyes, by my pride forced them to stay put. At least it it is behind me now!
Well, that brief look required the aid of an x- ray, which displayed a potentially dead nerve beneath the malicious little tooth. The dentist informed me that I needed a root canal. Oh, the joy that brewed within me! I had two options to mull over in my overwhelmed brain: I could mosey out of there with pain pills and antibiotics and wait until my return to do the procedure. Or, I could do part one of a root canal, which involves opening the tooth and removing the dead nerve, then they would temporarily seal it and do the rest upon my return. The issue with option one is I would run the risk of extreme pain flaring up in the tooth when in the plane, as altitude is notorious for causing such things. Shockingly, the idea of being in head-splitting pain for a combined total of 10 hours of air travel did not appeal to me. So, door number two, please! Let me just say, I hate novocaine shots. I could make a list of hundreds of unpleasant things I would prefer to do before get a novocaine shot. Yes, I love the result of the shots, but the actual thing... Ouch. I always clench up and dig my nails into the hand of the poor, unsuspecting dental assistant attempting to calm me down. Part two of the procedure, which I had done today, called for three of them. I felt tears welling up behind my eyes, by my pride forced them to stay put. At least it it is behind me now!
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