Not What I'd Planned

The look on the dentist's face as he examined my x-rays was not one that any dental patient would want to see. It was the look of one bearing ill news. He sucked air quickly through his gritted teeth and said frankly, "Well, it looks like you're in an awful lot of pain." "Yeah, it feels that way too," I laughed weakly. I was trying to be brave but was terrified, for good reason, of what he might say next.

A root canal was the order of the day - that very day, in fact. The dentist insisted that I have it started within the hour, hoping only one operation would solve the problem. I began to cry. All the pain that I had been trying so hard to hold back was released, mixing with tears that signified my terror at facing the root canal.

The bad news: they wouldn't, though I begged, put me to sleep for it.
The good news: they promised that it would all be over by lunch time.

Lunch time? I think I can handle that, I told myself. But I cried all the same. For the next hour while I waited I sat in silence, only speaking when spoken to and certainly not drawing out my answers. "This isn't how it's supposed to be!" I thought indignantly. "I'm on vacation! Why am I stuck in a dentist's office?"

For all my crying and worrying, it went pretty well. My mother-in-law sat with me the whole time for support. She's wonderful. The dentist and his son (who actually did the root canal) were both very kind, and did everything they could to make me feel comfortable. Of course, no matter what, root canals aren't exactly comfortable - but they did the best that they could. Only a few times during the procedure did my knuckles turn white from clenching the chair arms and did the pain squeeze silent tears from my eyes. I'm sure there have been worse root canals in the history of the world. :)



Honestly, it was the feeling ill and vomiting from the pain medication for 3 days afterward that really got to me.