That Damned Tooth

I went to the dentist today just to make sure that all was well. He tapped on the tooth that just had the root canal and I screamed and grabbed his hand. Oops. He is very kind and said, "I'm sorry! Did I hurt you?"

I gave him a sheepish smile and said, "No-- I just wanted to hold your hand." We both laughed. I've come a long way from flinching every time his hands came near my face.

For whatever reason, I have an infection in my mouth under my gums that won't go away and he had to redo the root canal. This is so not exciting. I didn't have the usual pain medication that I get beforehand and I was not feeling well at all afterward. He is so good to me and apologized, and told me to get to the pharmacy and home ASAP so I could take whatever he gave me. I didn't waste my time but I started throbbing en route home.

Such is life-- at this point I feel no pain!

I love his office. This particular room was overlooking the parking lot but it was still pretty. I love all the dentists there. I gag at plastics in my mouth, dental dams no exception and he kept taking tissues and wiping under it so I'd not get too gross or grossed out. He smoothed back my hair or his hygienist would and tell me how well I was doing. At one point I had to ask a question. I started writing and they waited until I was done and didn't try to finish what I was saying. That has to sound silly that that would move me, but they are the most considerate people I've met.

At the end he realized that most of that molar was down pretty low and he asked if I'd had pain and I said yes. I used to be a dancer-- I explained that I dance through pain. (I have also often complained at dentists and doctors. Since I like him-- I really didn't want to upset him!) He said that a tooth that has too much build up "is an alignment issue. Would you dance if your leg had an alignment issue? Don't think of your teeth in terms of pain. Think alignment." He figured out how to speak my language.