Okay, so right off let me tell you in case you didn't already know . . .I greatly greatly dislike dentists! I mean really dislike! So going to a dentist at 9:30 this morning was not one of my New Years Resolutions, or one of the things that I would include on my Bucket List. It was hardly visible on my 2009 calendar. It was there in very small print . . .9:30 T Dentist. And furthermore, this wasn't your normal everyday teeth cleaning kind of appt, this was a stinkin' root canal folks. I had one about 10 years ago in which during the procedure my tooth broke into three pieces, had to be pulled instead of fixed, requiring bridgework to avoid the huge gap between my teeth, which resulted in temp bridge work being swallowed (and thrown up), and finally in permanent bridge work on the back right top of my mouth.
I had been having pain since before Christmas. I had become an Extra Strength Ambesol Addict. Advil and I were tight - meaning I knew where the bottle was at all times so I could continue my constant drugged state. On Monday, I casually asked at my local dentist when they could possibly get me in to look at this. Now ,my "friend" Jody says. (remember I dislike the dentist). I get to the office and sure enough my loving dentist informs me that she believes I need a root canal and I will have to go to the special dentist in Nashville to have it done. Jody was nice enough to call said special dentist and they were able to fit me in today. Wasn't that just sweet of them?
So for the last two days I have dreaded this morning. If I was one to believe in omens and such, I would have turned my truck around this morning right after I got on I65. There seemed to be an accident this morning about 10 miles up from where I got on the interstate. Yet traffic was sitting still where I got on. Yikes! I decided that I wanted to get this over with and took some side roads to bypass the interstate chaos. I got behind the Hubcap Heaven van on Peytonsville Rd. and went winding over the river and through the woods to get back to the interstate. We followed a tractor for some bit of time also. The whole time I am thinking that surely if I am late they will have to reschedule this and I will just go back to Ambesol and Advil - that wouldn't be so bad. I am sure there is a support group for addicts of Ambesol that dislike the dentist like I do. However, Mr Hubcap and I successfully made it back to the interstate and I was flying again.
The special dentist office was actually located in Green Hills. For those of you not from the area, Green Hills is special all on its own. Luckily I wore my best in an effort to blend and not look like the small town hick that I am. I kept thinking if they check my clothing label they are so going to kick me out of here. The dentist office was in this little village area and for the life of me I could not find the building with the right number. I drove in circles - all the while feeling ill with the anticipation of what was to come. Finally I found the building number. I pulled over quickly, threw the truck into park, and then realized there was a meter by my truck. This meter said that I would need to be 25 cents for each 7 and a half minutes I was parked there. SAY WHAT? Okay, I am guessing I couldn't afford to shop much in this area but now I can't even afford to park to go receive said root canal mis-treatment?!?!?! What up with that?
As I am analyzing the situation, I notice a parking garage sign. So I get back in the truck and find that behind the cute little village buildings is a parking garage. Free at that. Woo hoo! I am now right at the time my appt is to have started. I find a map in the garage and begin to look for my suite number - it is not even on the map. I look two and three times before deciding I will just have to call and tell them I am lost. When the girl answers and I explain to her where I am standing, she says just walk up the stairs in front of you and turn right, we are at the end of the hall. Wah-lah - only 5 minutes late after all the chaos - I arrive for my unwarranted punishment.
The dentist man ended up being really nice and was very understanding about the fact that I didn't like him and we wouldn't be friends. He also understood how he couldn't explain any gross details to me in case I was to pass out. He gave me about a zillion shots and left me to watch TV. Yes, TV , there was one for each patient in their little cubicle area. I could watch whatever I wanted. (I had seen this before but at the pediatric dentist - whoever thought of letting grown ups have TV's also, I do like them). One thing I make sure I do while at the dentist is keep my eyes closed. I have no need to see all the needles, pliers, hammers, drills, and other strange devices going in and out of my mouth. I chose CMT to have on during my session so I could listen to some soothing country music. During a quiet point (there were not many), a song came on the TV called Some Beach. The jist of it some guy is talking about his bad day and wishing he was on Some Beach instead. Well, one of the things he had to do during his bad day was go to the dentist, wait a long time, wasn't numb enough, yet the dentist drilled anyway. I did open up and look as the video was playing and my Mr Dentist and Ms Hygienist were looking at the TV and smiling. If it hadn't been for the odd contraption keeping my mouth open, I probably would have laughed with them.
I sat nicely for the procedure, at least I think I did. Although there was no treasure box with a prize for me at the end. Unless you count the lady who asked me to pay up for the session of misery. What is up with that - charging me for letting you cause me pain? That is messed up.
As I sit here my mouth is still numb. Which I think is probably a good thing since Mr Dentist gave me a script for Tylenol with Codeine and said I would want to take it before bed tonight. I will be - don't worry.
In closing, I want to plead with any of my super smart readers out there - if anyone out there has a really big brain that you don't know what to do with it - PLEASE PLEASE invent someway that the dental patient does not have to hear the sounds of those drills in their head while the torture is being done. I didn't feel anything . .. but oh the sounds! I hate those sounds!
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