Hope Darby Writings

Deep breath in.

Long breath out.

whoosh!

It’s been something of an insane week, I must say. My article was turned in—ahead of deadline, might I add—despite my slight trauma on Monday. What trauma, you ask? Two words:

The dentist.

While I acknowledge that going to the dentist is quite necessary and should be nothing more than a minor inconvenience for an adult, I also have to admit that I had to be forced into going. See, the last time I went to the dentist, it bloody hurt. And I mean the “bloody” in the most literate sense possible. All for a cleaning. A cleaning! This was a few weeks before I had to have all four of my wisdom teeth cut from the tender flesh of my gums, so there for a good month and a half, I was in severe pain. Thanks to dentists.

So, I think my reluctance for a repeat performance should be pretty understandable.

Nevertheless, I was coerced into making and keeping a torture session dental appointment this past Monday. I’ve had a bit of an achy mouth lately, so I figured a few pokes with the pointy metally scrapey thing, some disapproving clucks of the tongue, and perhaps a stern lecture on fluoride pastes and proper “up and down circular motion” brushing techniques. An hour of having latex-covered fingers poking in my mouth, trying to answer questions without moving my tongue in odd and perverse-looking ways. Why do they always ask questions when their hands are elbow-deep in our mouths? Anyway. Despite pepping myself into a confident saunter as I strode into the office, things did not turn out as I’d hoped.

Oh no.

Let’s talk removal of an old filling because the dentist who put it in almost two decades ago blessed me with an overly-large filling that was causing problems for the tooth surrounding the silver filling. One good thing, the dental hygienist was a quick-draw with the nitrous oxide mask, so I did get to float on the ceiling for quite some time. Unfortunately, they were extremely busy that day, so after the dentist had happily removed the offending filling, I was left with a remote control, a pat on the head, and a “Feel free to change the channel of your TV while you wait. It won’t be long,” for almost 45 minutes.

I have to admit one thing: Blue Lagoon is pretty darn entertaining when you have enough nitrous oxide in your system to power an illegal street race.

The bad side, however, was that Novocaine injections don’t stay effective after such a long wait. So when the dentist (who, while I may consider him the Torture Master—and his vast collection of swords and other lethal blades hanging on the walls in the office’s hallways lends credence to that title—is actually a very nice, very soothing, very funny gentleman) came back with the announcement, “We’re drilling your tooth down and giving you a crown!” and commenced drilling, I literally came up off the chair, clutched the armrests, and instinctively tried to stick my tongue between my tooth and that wildly whirring instrument of dental destruction. I don’t recommend that, by the way.

At this point, the NOS-happy assistant blurted, “She’s hurting!” and the menacing whir ceased. “I thought that might happen,” said Dr. FeelPain. In went another shot. Little waiting, with him trying to cajole me off the ceiling and back into the chair (I swear, I felt like a cat being threatened with a fire hose at this point), and then back to drilling.

Thank goodness for the assistant. She cranked up my NOS a bit, bless her.

Over three hours after I entered the office building, I staggered back to my car a few hundred dollars lighter (thank you, insurance . . . otherwise I would have been almost a grand lighter!) with a very ghetto-fabulous silver crown on my back tooth, and an appointment to be back in two weeks for the permanent enamel crown to be applied.

Three hours after that, I stopped looking like a stroke victim as the right side of my face began to regain feeling and capability of motion. I still looked like a chipmunk planning a six-month hideout, though. And that lovely “goosed in the face with a steel-toed boot” sensation didn’t dissipate until yesterday.

Oh! And lucky me, I get to go back!

Woo.

Hoo.