Today I went to the dentist for a consultation about a root canal. (Yes, I know that he is not just a dentist, but I don’t feel like getting the card so I can spell out what he is.) It started out normal. Take and x-ray, look at the tooth, poke at the tooth, talk about the tooth.
This is when the program deviated from it’s regularly scheduled programing. He broke out the q-tip with the pink goop on it. I quickly asked if he planned on doing the procedure today, he smiled, and said of course, that is what they scheduled you for.
Panic set in. This is not what I had planned. Shawn was supposed to be here with me, not in Colorado. I quickly decided that since I was already there and didn’t have time to get worked-up about it, to go for it.
Let’s just say that he used a whole lot of pain killer on me. My tooth was so decayed that the filling I got in ‘01 or ‘02 was actually floating in the tooth. I’m lucky that when a piece fell out the day of BB’s party here in the Sticks, that I didn’t get and stay sick.
Two hours later, lots of drilling and poking had gone on, and I was completely relaxed. I actually came out more relaxed than when I went in.
So now I get to eat things like this for dinner, and lunch, and breakfast.
That would be an egg salad sandwich, cut into 16 pieces. Which were still to big for me to eat in one bite. I must be 80.
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