This is where I spent the morning:
That’s the back door to my dentist’s office. I was going to show you the sign in front of his office, but I’m also planning to whine a lil about dental stuff in this post, so I didn’t want him to catch any flack from that so Doc will remain nameless this morning.
My dentist really is a great guy. I just hate dentists!
Not dentists personally, mind you, but dentists, professionally. I’m glad they exist and I’m happy to have them working for me when I need help with dental issues, but I hate dental issues.
Patooey!!! I spit dental issues out of my mouth!
My last root canal was no fun! It hurt, A LOT! Makes sense then, that I was anxious as I entered into the office this morning, but I have to say that I have a radically compassionate dentist who has mad skills. And…
…the good news: No pain today! And not nearly the anxiety I had last time I had a root canal.
Prayer Changes Things!
If you will remember, my last dentist visit I treated myself afterward with a bagel slathered with veggie cream cheese, a coffee with cream, and danishes that I brought home to my guy. That junk food that used to taste so good after my dentist appointments didn’t taste good when I ate it last visit, and it had so many calories–a horrendous carb load that offered dismal results in the way of pleasure sensors.
This morning, I treated myself again, at this place:
I went through the drive-thru and I ordered an iced decaf with cream and splenda, and 3 munchkins on the side. I’m sorry, but when this place makes lil balls of pumpkin spiced dough and wraps ’em in a sugary glaze, heck yeah, I’m stopping and I’m having me some. After a harrowing root canal procedure that couldn’t be completed in one visit, yeah, I’m getting a treat. Call me weak, if you must.
A couple of weeks ago I mentioned that whenever I have a medical (in this case, dental), procedure done, my health provider is always obligated to do it the old way with the rusty tools. That phrase is a stab at dark humor by me, and a way of saying that weird things happen when I seek medical help.
The old adage proved true again today. While doing my root canal, I became concerned when the dentist wasn’t able to see all the channels in my tooth root. I didn’t understand everything he was saying to his assistant, but I know tone, and I know concern when I hear it. Not only could his handy dandy machine not detect the channels he was searching for, but an xray taken to help him out was also unable to find it.
Long story short: some medication to dissolve the channel clogging “stuff” in my tooth root was shoved up in the cavity made by the drill, and a temporary filling was inserted. Are you sick to your stomach yet? I know. Believe me, I know…
I’ll now be going back in two weeks to have Root Canal-Part 2 done on my poor tooth.
Like I said: Old way with the rusty tools! 😉
Do you ever treat trauma with food? What necessary medical or dental procedure do you absolutely dread?