So I started this blog yesterday after my root canal and a vicodin... I became a little "groggy" so will wrap it up today.
A root canal. Those three words can make anyone cringe. For me it conjures up a dirty homeless person who doesn't take care of their teeth. I mean only someone that has lost their confidence, their house, their car, their family and their toothbrush, could allow such a thing horrendous thing. Yet here I am, a "moderately" (if you don't count the 3 milkshakes I have had these last two days) healthy young woman, with three toothbrushes, a couple of flavors of mouthwash and a viable reel of dental floss, getting the old one- two root canal crown combo.
And I gotta tell ya, it wasn't pretty. You know after having kids I seem to measure all pain and uncomfortable situations to labor. I kinda figure if I can push two small seven inch round heads of of a one inch hole, then I can handle pretty much anything. And I today while in the dentist's chair I kept having to remind myself. "OK T, you can do this just a little longer, don't worry your tongue is not going be permanently glued to the roof of your mouth, you are going to be able to swallow soon, the drill is definitely not going to hit your jaw bone, and you will get a chance to reach up and wipe the drool off your chin once this is over-- suck it up girl you have had two babies...you can handle this".
All of this after a pretty wonderful morning. It was picture day for Mac and Cheese...so I sent them to school looking ever so glam. I have to admit I was feeling pretty good about myself, no real battles to speak of for having two little girls with attitude. I mean nothing like the battles we had on picture day when I was a kid--just suffice it to say I had long thick hair, my mom had a one of those curling iron brushes, and scissors usually came into play. Which is why in most of my school pics I have my hair in barrettes, because one side was ALWAYS shorter than the other. So again, feeling pretty good about the day ahead, kids were off and I was actually on time to the dentist. And today I brought my secret weapon, my ipod.
At first it wasn't so bad, admittedly the ipod was a brilliant touch. I was almost actually enjoying myself. There was no place I had to be, my out of office email was turned on, and I was comfortable in my "reclining" chair, just me and my music. I even was chuckling to myself when "Baby Got Back" came on, dancing in my head...staying very still on the outside. When bang my mouth finally joined the party.
Hey, wait, I felt that, ouch, and that. Holy cow, did the Novocain actually wear off? Certainly it couldn't that quickly I was only 6 songs in to my appointment. What was Dr. Doom and the Black Mantra actually doing to me? All the sudden I became much more aware of my surroundings everything began to hurt... my teeth, my jaw, my back and the feeling in my fingers from holding on so tight to the chair. What was even more disturbing was the songs that started playing while I was being drilled to death. It started with Linkin Park and "Bleed it Out" and followed with Queen "Under Pressure", after that I think I blacked out...
Finally it was over, the demolition duo was finished battling their way through my mouth. And I hobbled ever so slowly over to the receptionist... my shirt was wet from drool, my fingertips numb and little pieces of tooth in my hair. I had been defeated. My wit, my confidence, my great day and the feeling in the right side of my mouth were all LOST. As I reached over the counter for a pen, I am pretty sure I mumbled out loud (out of the left side of my mouth, of course), "that is the worse $600 I have ever spent." To that the receptionist gave me a smile and a appointment card... "see you in two weeks." WHAT? I know she has nothing to do with the one of the most uncomfortable mornings in my life, but I wanted to throw my ipod at her head...I mean seriously why can't I?
