Genetically, my chompers are fucked. I can count on one hand the number of relatives of mine that have kept their real teeth after they hit 30. If that hand was missing 3 fingers and the thumb, it’d be even more accurate. So, in an effort to once again be the first at something, I’ve been going to the dentist more often; last time I was there was exactly a week ago, and I can proudly say that it was 1 of 3 times in my life that I’ve not needed fillings because of cavities. No, instead, one of my fillings kind of splintered so stuff can get stuck there and potentially cause a cavity, so that I’m getting that taken care of next week.
I also had a psuedo-argument with my hygienist over an abscess, because apparently if you taste/smell it, it has to be a periodontal abscess. As it turns out, I was right, she was wrong, and I was in there today getting yet another root canal. Though, this time, there were 2 roots involved because it was on my mandibular 2nd molar, and only one of the roots was dead. The guy did a nerve block, and opened my tooth up, then did pokey pokey and when he hit the good pulp it was pain. Then he injected some anesthetic right onto that one. Then it all went fine, excepting my roots not wanting to be very cooperative; he spent about 45 minutes cleaning them up.
The lidocaine wore off and pain started settling in, and let me tell you, for some reason, it’s REALLY fucking painful right now. Luckily, it’s like a pharmacy in here with all the analgesics at hand, so I should be able to kill it quite effectively.
On that note, my dental assistant is cute, though a bit slow.
“So, how’re you feeling?”
“That’s a bit of an oxymoron, isn’t it?”
“You’re asking him how his gum is feeling after we numbed it.”