After my tongue discovered a rough crevice on a back molar this weekend, I made the dreaded appointment to see the profession most associated with suicide.
I got to my dentist (the best one I have experienced) and he said,
"Oh you have a hole in your tooth, doesn't that give you any pain, it looks like it should hurt, we may need to do a root canal."
Hmm I thought, "Yes, I felt the hole, no it doesn't give me pain and thank you for telling me that it looks so bad I should be doubled over holding my face."
I told him I didn't want any play by play commentary and just do his best and let me know at the end how things went.
After a topical numb-er and 2 shots of novocaine, i felt only pressure. When i felt the nerve, I opened my eyes (like the guy in Star wars when the Millennium Falcon lands on the sky city landing pad), and Dr. Daniels detected I needed another shot coupled with more topical on the nerve he was medicating/extracting.
My whole body sat tense with hands in a death grip on my ipod. He did manage to squeeze a bit of cheery commentary here and there, "This is worse than I thought, the cavies is deep, we'll need another x-ray", etc. I just turned up my ipod to full volume. He finished rather suddenly and the patient was free.
So the prognosis was: It was "FOuR times as bad as he thought", "the tooth was melting with decay, had I not come in I likely would have had the mother of all tooth aches in the next 6 months", and he thinks he can "save the tooth but it will take 2,3 or 4 more visits to do it"."
Oh joy, more compression testing for my ipod.
When I told my denture loving mother in law about it: she happily chimed, I am so happy with mine, all they have to do is chew! She was smart and had all of hers pulled in her mid to late 20's.
I have JUST BEGUN TO FIGHT!