Dreading the Dentist

Oh yes...I'm just like everyone else.  Like so many, I hate going to the dentist with a passion.  I don't know what it is...the sound of the whirring drills *shudder* or the smell of burning enamel or what, but let me tell you, going to the dentist is not on my top 10 list of favorite things to do.  Just the thought of going and sitting in that chair that looks like an octopus met the Star Trek Borg freaks me out.  I'm serious!  Look at the chair next time you get dragged into the dentists office, it's got arms out the wazoo, mechanical gadgets and gizmos...then tell me it doesn't look like some half-mechanical animal come to get you.  The uncomfortable x-rays, you name it, I could probably come up with a very large laundry list of why visiting the dentist is not my favorite thing in the world.

However, you can't stay out of there forever, you've got to do your checkups, be scolded that you don't floss enough, and the other things they admonish you for doing to your mouth when you visit every six months.

When I was a kid, I didn't have great teeth.  My mother (before anyone knew any better) let me fall asleep with milk in my mouth, which as you can guess, did little good for my teeth.  As far back as I can remember, every trip to the dentist was painful and very scary.  

I have to give a positive though.  I can't be all negative in my post...

I have a really great dentist now.  He's very sweet.  The first time I went to see him 3 years ago, I freaked out and started bawling my head off.  He was very patient and took his time gaining my trust so that I would allow him to work on my teeth.  He checks on me all the time to make sure my experience in his chair is always positive.  So, whenever I have to get big work done which sends my anxiety into the stratosphere, he gives me Valium to take before I get there so I'm chilled out and prepared for the experience.

Well, it's time for my checkup anyways and lucky for me the dentist's office called, because I cracked a tooth recently.  I was chewing on a piece of Nicorette not too long ago and pieces of tooth ended up in it.  Yes, you're supposed to cringe and go 'oh gross!' You think I was thrilled about it?  Um, no.  I wasn't.  I was just as wigged out as you are now.

As I sat in my dentist's chair yesterday afternoon, he came in and looked at the x-ray the technician took, the whole back side of my molar is now gone.  He looked at me and said, "It's going to need a crown, but with your history, every time we do a crown, it ends up needing a root canal."  I wasn't up to dealing with this tooth over and over again, so I went the very brave and smart route and told him, "Let's do it all and just get it over with."  He agreed, took off the dental bib and we walked out into the checkout area.  As I was checking out, all of the nurses and techs in his office told me how great I looked.  It's amazing what losing 20 pounds will do.  They set me up with antibiotics, pain meds and my usual script for Valium and sent me on my way.

Well, you ready for the story?  You know I always have one for you...

Well, the tooth that broke has some backstory, and oh gods I wish it didn't.  You know who's going to come up!  I'd rather go on and on more about KP than revisit the story of my cracked tooth, but today isn't about KP unfortunately.  I wish every single day was about KP, but no, today it's about this silly tooth and that damn lemon I was married to.  I wish I could get amnesia so I could forget about my ex and never have to write about him again!!!!  Argh!  

I need to go on record for just a moment to say to all my Canadian friends that I adore y'all a whole lot.  It's that damn lemon I married that taints everything up north to no end.  So my ranting isn't about you guys, it's about him, so don't take it personally.

Ok, set the way back clock for six years ago.  You know where I was, *exasperated sigh*  Montreal.  One day, I get a toothache.  The genius I married takes me to his dentist.  The phrase "couldn't of found his ass from a hole in the ground" would be appropriate right around now to describe the quack I got taken to.  We also know what a flying P.O.S. cheapskate (insert long string of explicatives) the ex was.  OMG.  My ex was a headcase when it came to the dentist (he loves the neon tooth that some dentists have...go figure on that one.)  The ex flossed every night and he did it in the most vile way, always within reach of me to get hit with flying pieces coming from the floss.  I'm almost certain he did that on purpose.  The ex flossing was the noisiest and most disgusting ten minutes a night I had to deal with...blech!!!  Feel free, shudder with me.  But, as I'm sitting in the chair, the dentist says, "you really need a root canal and a crown on this tooth."  The ex clears his throat and instructs that I don't get anything fancy, the dentist just has to fix it up as is.  OK, are you feeling me yet on why I don't like my ex very much????????  Oy veh. *shakes fists*  So the dentist goes in, fills it best he can and I end up with 3/4 of a molar filled in.  As a friend would say "G friggin' G".  Good Game.  Yeah, the dentist, when he filled it, bisected the tooth twice, once vertically and once horizontally, so my molar ended up looking like a crucifix in my mouth.  Yeah, and then six years later, people are wondering why one of the corners collapsed and ended up in my Nicorette.

So, this afternoon at 1pm, I get to sit in the dentists chair AGAIN.  You guessed it, I'm having a root canal and a crown placed on a tooth that was frigged up because some cheap ass bastard didn't think I was worth enough to have it fixed properly the first time. You'll have to forgive me guys, I don't mean to be so venomous...but really, that's got to go down on someone's list of 'inexcusable things to do to your spouse'.  So, even though it's been a year since the ex's locust ass ran off with the Bassett Hound Faced Bitch, I'm still having to deal with the aftermath of his idiocy.  I'm the one that's in pain and I'm the one who's going to be in a hell of a lot more pain tomorrow afternoon because of him and his lack of foresight.  

*Jumps up and down*  Damn it!  Damn it!  Damn it!!

Getting reminded of the ex AND being faced with a severe phobia are not setting me up to get the optimal nutritional value out of my day tomorrow!  To be denied my positive, uplifting nutritional value for the day...oh, that's enough to tick me off royally.

I HATE POTHOLES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Yes, yes KP, I hear you.  Build a bridge...I know.  

But damn it, this is two things at once and I can't build two bridges simultaneously yet, I'm not to your level of heart and soul engineering!  I'm trying.  I swear.  

It's just not easy.  But no one ever said it would be.

But, here's the proposed list of nutritional value I'll get from the experience:

1. I'll be braving the experience on my own.  No one to hold my hand or prevent me from getting the care I need.  I get 'brave points' for the day.  I can say I'll have courage.
2. The tooth won't bother me again.
3. I can say that I've bounced through another pothole and lived.

Yeah, that's it.  I've got to keep moving forward.  It'll be a day I can be proud of myself for and chalk up to another experience of not only surviving but triumphing.